Sally in Savannah: Part I

A Short Mystery Series

He was really beginning to hate his job. 

What used to be mildly bearable was becoming increasingly suffocating. 

Previously, his job provided him with just enough perks to make the work tolerable and sometimes, the recognition even put a little pep in his step. Now, those happy days were few and far between. 

What’s the Bob Dylan song? He searched for the lyrics as he waited for the light to change. The times they are a’changing, something something? He tried to hum to coax out more lyrics, but the noise from his blinker distracted prevented him from finding a tune. 

He never felt the weight of responsibility like his colleagues did. From the very start of his career, he made the system work for him. But now there were calls for accountability and education. There were eyes on him for the first time ever. 

It was all unraveling. 

And he could trace every thread, every loose end, back to her.

He took the exit ramp off the interstate, slowing to the new speed limit. This was the portion of his commute he loved the most. He dedicated the last ten minutes of his drive home to raging against her. All of the vicious insults that he wanted to hurl at her throughout the day, he saved, for right now. 

This was the only part of his day in which he was bilingual as well. As he made his way down the street, he shouted every vile name, any curse, in any language, to ease his pain. 

That’s when he hit the kid. 

Once, when he was 13 and driving his father’s truck, he hit a deer. It was incredibly loud and jarring. He panicked instantly. But then, miraculously, the deer seemed to almost bounce back up and just bound away. The truck barely had a scratch. 

This was nothing like that. 

He knew from the noise, and then the immediate silence that followed, they weren’t going to walk away.