Rosalind by Stephen Paden Page A

cruiser and they sped off down the road. They took main street out of town and came to a road that only turned one way. They turned left on it and then a mile down made another left into a dark driveway with a single tree in the front yard. There was a red barn on the left-hand side and behind it was a cornfield that reeked of neglect.
    The house itself looked warm and inviting. Two windows rested on the top floor of the house, and both lights were on, as well as the light in the dining room. And in the window Rosalind saw a n empty basinet next to the window in the dining room. She smiled and thought of her brother Jared. He probably would have liked that basinet much better than the tomato crate.
    Susan led her into the house and put her red suitcase on the floor. A man in a suit and tie stood at the base of the stairs facing the door and smiled. He had a pipe in his mouth and smoke was coming out of it. She had only ever smelled cigarette smoke until now and the aroma coming from the pipe was new and smelled strange to her. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, but it was strange.
    " I've fixed up the nursery for you," the man said. Rosalind thought he looked familiar. Maybe someone she saw around town. But there was something about his voice.
    Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, so Susan went to the kitchen to fix her a glass of water with an Alka-Seltzer tablet. She had no idea what effect this would have on Rosalind, only that the soothing bubbles always relaxed her. The man shook hands with the sheriff and the sheriff walked over to Rosalind and knelt down. "What you've been through in such a short time," he whispered, "is more than a person should ever go through in a whole lifetime. He stroked her hair and she pushed her head into his hands. She trusted him completely, and deep down, she could tell that Nancy's death was affecting him as much as it was her.
    Rosalind took the crumpled page from her hand and then unfolded it. She showed it to the sheriff and pointed to her name. " She showed me how to write. That's my name," she said. The sheriff pushed back the tears, kissed her on her forehead. He put his hat back on and then nodded to John and Susan, making as quick an exit as he could. He went back to his cruiser and cried.
    "Well, I'll let you ladies get set up. I hope you like the room. " He was tempting fate, but he walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She felt something uneasy, something off about him, but he'd shaken hands with the sheriff, and she trusted the sheriff more than anyone. "Please make yourself at home, my dear." The man walked over to the room off of the living room and closed the sliding doors.
    "That's his den. If you need to ask him a question, just remember to knock, okay? He hates to be disturbed." Susan leaned down and smiled at her. "Even by me," she said. Rosalind smiled and then put her hand on his stomach.
    Susan grabbed Rosalind's suitcase and carried it upstairs. Rosalind followed her as she turned left down the hallway and then another immediate left into the room. It was brightly lit and the walls were yellow. They were, as Rosalind mentally noted, the same yellow as the dress her woman wore. There was a basinet in the corner of the room that was smaller than the one downstairs. A small nightstand with a lamp on it sat next to the window she'd seen from the yard, and next to it was a single sized bed.
    "You were lucky, we had that in the other room across from ours for visitors. Even though we never have any. I'm not sure why he didn't leave it and just put you up in there. But, I guess the walls in here are brighter. And honey, you need some brightness about now," Susan said. Rosalind unfolded the page in her hand and walked it over to the nightstand. She had never had a nightstand before, so she propped the page up against the lamp and sat on the bed. It was more comfortable than the couch and no comparison to the mattress that her father had raped her on every