Part One

Just like in all the storybooks, the day started out just like any other. We had been entertaining company that afternoon. I had started a new job not too long ago, and had invited some co-workers over to hang out. My previous job had long and awkward hours, so Tom and I were both enjoying being able to spend our evenings together. Heck, I even had weekends off, now.

After my new friends left, I decided to sneak in a catnap on our couch to refresh myself for the evening. I was certain that we would probably be going to some other friends house. We enjoyed stopping by our friends and socializing all evening long.

Tom, my boyfriend, had decided to enjoy the rest of the fall day by getting ready for bow hunting season at the back of the property where we live. He really enjoyed hunting. I’m not exactly sure what he enjoyed the most. Although, anything to do with the outdoors made Tom happy. Whether it be tooling around in one of his gardens, or walking through the woods, Tom lived and breathed the outdoors.

I had quickly fallen asleep around 4 p.m. and had not even realized what his intentions were. He had decided to take his garage sale deer tree stand out to try it before the bow hunting season got underway. He had mentioned something about a wonderful spot at the back of the yard earlier. There had been a colony of butterflies that had flown through there just the other day, and he was hoping to get to see them again. He also wanted to set up his stand to see if he needed to clear any tree limbs out of his line of sight.

When I woke up three hours later, I thought it was a little strange that Tom had not already woken me up like normal, giving me a hard time for sleeping the gorgeous day away.

Typically he would of nicely suggested to me that I wake up and enjoy the outdoors with him. I would grouchily, while half asleep, suggest that he let me sleep an hour longer. Knowing I would be awake all night if he let me sleep longer, he’d keep lovingly pestering me until I would finally decide to open my eyes.

I glanced up at the clock and instantaneously noticed the walkie-talkie on the coffee table that we often used to communicate while he was out running around outdoors and the sticky note attached saying to call if I needed anything.

I picked up my walkie-talkie. “Hey baby,” I said in a sleepy tone into the speaker.

There was no answer. I didn’t think much of it. Perhaps he had turned down the volume to not disturb any wildlife, or so as not to shock his eardrums.

I called again. “Baby?”

Still nothing.

Maybe the battery went dead, I remember thinking and, without delay, thought to call the cell phone.

Our voicemail picked up. I briefly listened to the song that I had made Tom record on the voicemail of him playing guitar and singing. Blackbird, by the Beatles. He did the song justice, ask anyone.

I hung up and dialed again.

Voicemail.

What the hell is going on? Maybe he fell asleep?

I decided to venture to the back of the property, after finding a flashlight since the sun had almost set, to give him trouble for falling asleep while setting up his hunting supplies.

He had driven the car full of supplies the quarter mile back to the tree line. My flashlight found the taillight reflectors and I made the journey on foot.

Making it to the car, I looked inside, half expecting to see him asleep in there. Or, at least, finding the unmanned walkie-talkie, which would explain half the reason he did not answer when I called.

(to be continued)