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Beth Lytle
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I remember the day clearly because my overactive imagination was getting the best of me…again. It happened near Front Street at the edge of town. I was taking a morning jog and enjoying the crisp morning air with the sun beating down on my back. I felt invigorated and all of my senses were heightened.
I’d only been running for about ten minutes when I noticed a presence behind me. I could feel his gaze burning into my back and it sent chills up my spine.
I felt a spurt of excitement as I realized I was being watched and followed. What could he possibly want? I wondered to myself. This wasn’t the first time I had felt a presence behind me and so instead of taking my normal route, I quickly darted of the path I usually took and down an alleyway.
I could hear his footsteps behind me, but when I turned and looked there was no one there. Panic rose high in my chest and sweat began pouring down my temples. I came to the end of the alleyway and swiftly hopped over a fence.
Inwardly, I got a charge out of that. Would my abductor turn out to be as agile as me? I began running faster and the pavement stung the bottoms of my feet as I heard him clear the fence. Now what? I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, sure that he would never catch me. It was then that I came to the end of the road and realized there was nowhere to go.
I stopped suddenly, remembering something I’d seen on TV once. I spun around, facing my attacker and put my hand up in the air.
“Don’t I know your mother?” It was the first thing I could think of and I remembered that an abductor would hesitate at the idea of the woman he was planning on attacking being able to identify him or knowing his mother.
The man that stood before me was handsome and in blue jeans and a bright blue t-shirt that brought out the intense blue of his eyes. He was panting, I noticed, and holding something out to me.
“No, you don’t know my mother, but you dropped these outside of your house”. My face flushed red as I recognized my house keys. He studied my face for a moment and I knew my face was on fire. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
I grabbed the keys from his hands and turned by gaze past him. It was a coping mechanism I’d learned a long time ago when I was embarrassed about something.
“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I never heard you.” He smiled then, taking me by surprise and the sun shone off his dark hair. He stuck his hand out to shake mine.
“I’m Ethan and you really gave me a run for my money. Maybe we can jog together for real some morning. I see you out here every day.” I smiled and this time my face turned red with interest.
“I’d like that.” Shaking his hand, it occurred to me that this was the start of a long friendship. Several years from now, I’d be looking back at this day recalling how I met my adoring husband and how he literally chased me down.
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