We help to get Christina settled in the house.  I make a big deal out of giving Alexis her Valentine candy.  She is elated.  We all sit around for awhile filling Jeff in on the details.  I am hoping that Larry is home.  Sometimes he works very late.

At Home - 7:00 PM: The service van still sits in the driveway.  The mail still lies between the doors.  Only an eerie silence remains.

Tuppers Plains - 7:45 PM:Mary and I finally head for home.  Mary worries aloud about her cat, hoping that he hasn't been killed on the road in her absence.

At Home - 8:00 PM:  At last I pull into our driveway.  My heart sings when I see Larry's service van sitting there.  As I back into my spot, I expect to see him coming out to greet me as he always does.  He does not come this time.

Mary and I load up our arms with as much as we can carry, and fumble with the door.  I am the first to open it.  The mail falls out at my feet.  Something is terribly wrong.  Dingo is crying hysterically from the basement.  The phone is ringing.  Even with this noise, the house is deathly quiet.  Deep inside, I know.

I drop my suitcase and rush to the phone, while Mary lets Dingo out of the basement.  It is one of Larry's coworkers.  They have been friends for years.  I can hear the panic in his voice.

"Sherry!  Where in the hell is Larry?"

"God Glen, I don't know!"  My panic is escalating.  "I just this minute walked into the house.  I don't know where he is!"

"We have been paging him all day long, and he hasn't called back.  He hasn't answered his cell phone either!"

"Call me back in ten minutes, Glen," I half yell into the phone.  " I have to look for him."

I am shaking now, deathly afraid.  Mary starts searching the house.  I do not call out for him.  Somehow, I know he is not in the house.  The silence is too pervasive.

I call his father next door.  My panic is transmitted through the phone line.  "Have you seen Larry tonight?"

"No, not tonight.  I talked with him this morning."

"He is not here.  His work has not been able to contact him all day.  I need to see if he is in his van, but I am afraid to look."

"I'll be right out."

Mary comes down the stairs.  "The gun, Sherry, see if the gun is still here!"

I run to the computer drawer, afraid to open it.  I believe with everything in me, that the gun will still be lying where it always lies.  The gun is not there.  I stand for a moment and look at the empty drawer in horror.  I open the cabinet where I keep the clip, hidden among the computer books.  It is gone too!  "Mary!  The gun is gone!" I scream.

A car door slams.  Larry's dad, searching the van.  I throw on my coveralls and boots.  I grab a flashlight.  Larry's dad is searching the barn now, his flashlight cutting through the darkness.  I run to the barn.  "The gun is missing!"  "The gun is missing!"  I cannot miss the stricken look on his face, even in the darkness.

I start searching through the pasture, the horse shed.  It is cold outside, but I do not feel it.  I start searching the fields behind the outbuildings.  The ground is slushy under my boots.  Mary is making calls.  Dingo is whining.  The dog next door is barking.  Larry's mom stands in the driveway, laughing.

I go down the driveway, cross the road, and head for the river.  I do not think he will be there.  He loved the 100 acre woods we bought, which is not connected to the rest of our land.  If he had to choose a place to die, it would be there.  I am sure of it.

Suddenly, Jeff is beside me, walking with me to the river.  He puts an arm around me, the fear in his eyes mirroring my own.  "Are you all right?"

I do not break stride.  A nervous energy drives me on.  Almost angrily I say,  "No, I am not all right!"  I realize that it is not fair to lash out at Jeff.  He loves Larry.  They are the best of friends.

Jeff tells me that Larry's dad has called the Search and Rescue team to look for Larry.  He persuades me to return to the house.  I cannot stand still and wait, but I know that I cannot find him in the 100 acre woods.  It is too rugged and steep to climb at night.

Within minutes, Fire and Rescue are here.  Lights everywhere.  My daughter is here.  She is too weak to be here.  She shouldn't be here in her condition.  The tortured look on her face breaks my heart.  My granddaughter, Larry's granddaughter is crying.  She thinks it is her fault.  She is only seven.

Mary tells me that Glen called back.  He is coming here, all the way from Chillicothe.  Larry's dad is monitoring the activities of Fire and Rescue on his own fire radio.  He is a member of the same fire department, as is Larry.

Larry's dad tells me that Fire and Rescue just called for an ambulance.  That means they found him, and they found him DOWN.  If he is down, then he is dead!  Larry would do it exactly right, or not at all.  It takes a moment to absorb the brutal truth.  We all know.  We stand silent for a moment.  They tell us he wasn't in the woods after all.  He was at the far back end of the pasture.  Larry's dad is sobbing.  They tell me that I was screaming.  I don't remember.

The shadows of people coming and going.  Friends, family, stern-faced deputies.  The coroner's soft voice.  Kneeling beside my chair, "It was not your fault!"  Something about a note staked to a tree.  The horrid note, like ice-water to the face . . . Happy Birthday.