The Man at the Door

Refusing to get out of bed, Alan stared up at the ceiling fan and watched the blades spin with a low hum. His procrastination was brought on by something he tried to avoid whenever possible: family drama. Unfortunately for Alan, that was something he would have to face today. Just not in the way he expected. Alan was also not looking forward to enduring the thirty-year high temperature forecasted today. But the weather would be the least of his worries.

Savannah, Alan’s seventeen-year old stepdaughter, was caught with some friends in the school parking lot with a bottle of Vodka before the spring dance the night before. Alan’s wife, Emily, received a call from the school to come claim their daughter. 

“What were you thinking?” Emily said, glaring at Savannah in the back seat through the rear view mirror on the drive home. Savannah immediately tried to brush this incident off as “no big deal” since other kids do the same thing, they just happened to get caught. When they got home, Savannah stormed up to her room after Emily grounded her for the foreseeable future, leaving the two parents alone in the living room.

“Look, all I’m saying is that Savannah is a good kid,” Alan said. “ She got caught doing some stupid stuff with some friends. You remember what it was like at that age. We’ve done things we regret or are not proud of. Cops weren’t involved and no one got hurt.”

“This time. No one got hurt this time.”

“I doubt she will do something like this again.”

“It doesn’t have to be something like this next time. She needs to understand that although she is young, one decision can impact the rest of her life.”

After last night’s excitement, Alan was expecting Savannah to spend the entire day in her room hiding. But when he came downstairs, he was surprised to see his stepdaughter getting ready to head out.

“Bye mom, bye dad. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” said Alan, who then turned to Emily with a questioning look on his face.

“She has the school play, remember? They have their last big rehearsal today. She doesn’t know what the punishment will be from the school and she understands they might remove her from the role. But she wants to show support to everyone else who has worked on the play. We had a very good chat this morning so I said she could go.”

“That’s great to hear,” he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. 

Emily grabbed the remote to turn off the TV in the living room.  Before she could hit the power button, she paused as a new report flashed on a screen.

CLOSING ARGUMENTS TO BE HEARD IN THE JANICE MARTIN MURDER TRIAL

“Thank God this circus is coming to an end. That poor girl. I can’t imagine what her family is going through,” Emily said.

The murder of Janice Martin took the country by storm. The daughter of Randall Martin, the tech billionaire, Janice frequented the tabloids with her rebellious behavior that included late-night parties and run-ins with the law, mostly on the account of drug use and a few DUIs. 

In the end, the prime suspect turned out to be an old boyfriend from before Janice really leaned into the rich and famous lifestyle. Janice was last seen getting into his car and her blood was found in the same car when the authorities found it abandoned two days later.

“Okay gotta run,” Emily said and turned off the TV. 

“Try to stay cool out there,” Alan said. “It’s gonna be a hot one.”

“It already is!” Emily kissed her husband before she left for the morning. Alan smiled as he watched his wife leave.

Alan walked out the front door ten minutes later, where the initial shock of the heat stopped him in his tracks. Alan took a breath in an attempt to fully adapt his body and mind to the sweltering heat. It would in fact take Alan a few more breaths before he was mentally prepared to leave the front porch. But before he could walk to his car, Alan saw a man coming up the driveway towards his house.

The man was older, with thinning gray hair along the sides that had a few strands combed over to try and cover his mostly bald scalp. He wore a black suit that was a few sizes too big (which he probably filled out better in his younger years), with the tie loosened at the collar to fully complete the disheveled look. In this heat, he looked like he was about to keel over.

“Can I help you?,” Alan asked the stranger.

The man stopped and placed his hand on Alan’s Chevy Traverse in order to steady himself, bent over at the waist. “I’m sorry…I’ve been walking for quite some time. I’m extremely tired,” the man said between deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Alan’s initial reaction was one of worry. Here was an elderly gentleman who seemingly appeared out of nowhere and needed some help. “Is there someone I can call?” When the man didn’t respond to the last question, Alan became more direct. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No, no I do not.” The mere implication of involving an ambulance seemed to restore the man’s energy and appearance. He rose up, straightened out his tie at the collar, and met Alan with the smile of a professional salesman. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed the sweat on his face. “I do apologize if I gave you a scare. I’ve been walking for quite a while and I’m not as spry as I was in my younger days. Plus, it’s a little warm for this time of year, is it not?”

 “It is. But is there anything I can help you with? I’m just leaving for work and I’m already behind schedule,” a slight exaggeration on Alan’s part. But it was the first excuse he could think of to end this now awkward encounter.

“If I could trouble you for a glass of water? I’ve walked quite a ways, and I didn’t prepare for the length of my journey and this excruciating temperature.”

Alan sighed, looking at his watch (now trying to hide his annoyance), “I suppose. Let me go back inside real quick.” 

When Alan returned with a glass of water, he saw the man who only a minute earlier looked as if he was going to topple over, appearing rather energetic for someone his age in this oppressive heatwave.

“Ah, thank you, good sir!” The man said.

Alan walked down the porch steps to hand the man the glass, not saying a word in response. Alan wanted to make sure the man was in fact healthy enough to continue wherever he was going, but at the same time was not in the mood for any more pleasantries. However, after the man took a few gulps, Alan considered he could still add further assistance if necessary.

“So where are you headed? I was just on my way to work. But I still have a few minutes, I could give you a ride depending on where you need to go.”

“Actually sir, I'm right where I need to be,” the man said smiling, revealing yellow teeth that had seen better days.

“Excuse me? I…I’m not following.”

“I assume you are Mr. Alan Sterling.”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Name is Richard Watkins.” The man extended his hand to Alan, who did not accept his greeting.

“And what do you want, Mr. Watkins?”

“We should go inside to talk, Alan. We have much to discuss.”

“Listen, I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling. And if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”

Alan began to move around the man to the driver’s side door. As Alan took a step, the man put his hand on Alan’s shoulder. “What I have to say concerns you and your family.”

This stopped Alan cold. “What the hell do you mean?”

“Alan, it will be a lot better if we discuss this inside,” the man said, gesturing toward the front door.

“My family? What the hell are you talking about?! You need to leave now Mr…Whoever the Hell You are!”

Up until this point, The man who calls himself Richard Watlkins had been trying to strike a friendly and conversational tone. But after Alan raised his voice, his pleasant demeanor disappeared and was replaced with a scowl and piercing eyes.

“Now Alan, I’ve come a long way. There is a discussion that needs to take place. And quite frankly, if today was the last day I would ever see my wife and daughter, I would want to know.”

Alan entered his house leaving the door open for Richard Watlkins to follow him inside. As both men sat down across from each other at the kitchen table, Alan saw the calm and gentle side of Mr. Watkins returned as if both were neighbors having a nice morning chat.

“I gotta say, you really have a lovely home.” Richard then pointed to a family picture that hung on the wall next to the kitchen table. “Oh wow! That must be Emily and Savannah, you have a really beautiful family. You must be extremely proud.”

Alan ignored the complement and stared intently at Richard. 

“Now Alan, I do understand my appearance today and the information I’ve insinuated about your wife and daughter is rather shocking. But please know I get no pleasure from being here today. You took something from me a long time ago. Now I’m here to confront you, so you understand.”

“Confront me?” Alan leaned forward in his chair, putting his arms on the table. “I’ve never met you before in my life! What could I have possibly done to you?! I don’t know if you have me confused with someone else.” Alan got up from his chair to head to the front door to show Mr. Watkins out.

The old man stayed seated, his gaze fixed on the chair Alan had just left, knowing the family man would return when he uttered the following words: “Drake Road, 1998.”

“What did you just say?” Alan stood holding the door open, slowly letting go of the knob, as he was hit by a flood of memories he had long suppressed to the point Alan forgot they even existed.

Alan sat back down, and raised his voice at Mr. Watkins, “WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?”

“Your reaction tells me all I need to know,” Richard managed a slight smile. “You see, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but at my age…well, let’s just say, my time is nearing an end. So I needed to take this chance.”

“But how…after all this time…how did you know?” 

Alan was now reliving what he worked so hard to forget -  the worst night of his life.  He was at a bar celebrating a friend’s birthday. No drinking for Alan. He needed to turn in early since he had work in the morning. He got in his black Chevy Blazer, pulled out of the parking lot onto Drake Road to head home. Drake was a long dark road that stretched for about five miles. The moon provided some light as the road curved around the lake for the last mile or so, but other than the sporadic light provided by mother nature, the road was pitch black.

Alan had taken his eyes off the road momentarily as he pager went off. THUD! Alan slammed on his breaks as he felt his Chevy make contact with something. He assumed it was a deer, but when he got out and walked behind the vehicle to see what he hit, he was staring at the body of a girl.

Alan remembered the panic and helplessness he felt. This woman needed help. Christ, she looked no older than he did. As Alan gently laid her down in the back seat, he saw he was already too late. The girl’s lifeless eyes stared back up at Alan. The girl was dead.

As he returned to the present, Alan muttered, “There was nothing I could do.”

“You could have done the right thing.”

“And what would that have mattered?! She was dead! There was no one around! What was she doing there walking down that road?! Oh God, why are you here bringing this up after all these years?!” Alan shouted as tears rolled down his cheek.

“She was my daughter. And her name was Sarah.”

He wanted to tell Richard how sorry he was then, how sorry he was now. But apologizing would admit fault. That would mean to Alan that his whole life that he worked so hard to build, was based on a lie that he was worthy of this life. 

“So why are you here?” asked Alan, trying to sound matter-of-fact as possible..

“I wanted to face you. To tell you about Sarah, who she was, what she wanted to be. What you took that day. And not only did you take it, but you left her by the side of the road like a filthy animal! She deserved better than that! She was loved! Yet she died as if no one cared for her! Her death destroyed my family! I came here today to tell you that.”

“Why today?” Asked Alan, through the guilt crushing his soul.

“I’m not the only person who knows what you did,” Richard said, trying to calm himself. “You were able to keep this secret for over twenty years. But unfortunately for you, your old car was used in another crime. Do you follow the news? If you do then you no doubt know the terrible crime of Janice Martin’s murder.”

After Alan hit Sarah and stashed her body off the side of the road, Alan cleaned out the car as best he could and sold it on Craigslist, title and all, for $900. He knew at such a low price no buyer would question the damage to the front of the car. It just so happened that the guy he sold it to was moving back east. Alan sold the car three days before Sarah’s body was discovered. The evidence was long gone.

“When they did forensics on the car belonging to Ms. Martin’s boyfriend,” Richard continued, “the authorities found blood stains belonging to Janice, her boyfriend, and a third set they could not identify. They ran the DNA against a database that included unsolved crimes. And wouldn’t you know, it came back a match for my Sarah. By tracing the ownership history of the car through DMV records and questioning the fella you sold the car to, they determined you were the owner at the time of Sarah’s death.”

“So what happens now?”

“I got here as fast as I could so we could have this chat. An old friend of mine in the department tipped me off they were ready to make an arrest and if I wanted to speak with you, I should do it now. It took me quite a few bus trips and transfers plus walking a few miles which is no small feat at my age. But if I were you, I would call Emily.”

Alan closed his eyes and nodded his head in agreement.

“Well this concludes our business. I shall leave you now Mr. Sterling.” Richard got up from his chair and walked to the front door.

“Mr. Watkins,” he said as Richard was beginning to exit the house.

“Yes?”

“I truly am sorry about Sarah. I know it doesn’t mean much now. But you should know that.”

“I know you are. You’ve led a good life. You’ve done right by your family, your community and your colleagues. I looked you up before I came to meet you today. Unfortunately, we all have to face the consequences of our actions. It just doesn’t always happen on our terms.”

Alan nodded and hung his head, trying to fully absorb the enormity of this morning’s revelation. He needed to call Emily, he just didn’t know what to say or how to begin. A mistake he made so long ago, was now about to alter their lives. 

Alan attempted to remain practical in his thoughts to preserve some sense of control. Could they prove I was the one driving? As long as I don’t confess, and I lawyer up, the defense should be able to provide some shred of doubt over a conviction. After all, it was so long ago. His mind raced through every possible scenario he could imagine. He even thought about the Glock he kept in the bedroom safe.

As his mind raced and his heart rate went into overdrive, what brought him back to his emotional center was the same photo Richard Watkins pointed to when he first sat down.

Alan was too distracted by the presence of Mr. Watkins to notice earlier, but it truly was a lovely picture of the three of them. It was taken when they went camping last year by the lake. Savannah didn’t want to go originally, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at the photo. Her smile lit up the picture as she was wrapped in Emily’s arms with Alan at her side. 

His wife and step daughter meant the world to him. Which is why they had to hear the truth about what happened all those years ago from him. Not from a police officer, not from a newspaper article, and not from an obituary. He would not run again. As he heard the faint sounds of sirens in the distance, he picked up the phone to call his wife.