Towering

games. She never neglected me.
    What if Wyatt too was imaginary, like Sarah had been? What if I was slowly losing my mind?
    No. The thing about Sarah was, she always did what I wanted her to do. Always. And that was because she was me, and I was her. She never disappointed me. She always showed up. Wyatt disappointed me precisely because he was real. He was a real boy who could not climb my tower in the slippery rain.
    I walked to the window and opened it. A blast of cold air met my face, but I was still warm from the fire inside. I stared down, remembering yesterday, the feel of my feet on the sodden, snowy ground, the first time I had felt it since I had come here so many years ago. I glanced at my bed. The rope was under there. So strange, to have the means of escape at my disposal yet not go. Was I really not leaving because I wanted to stay? Or was it because I was afraid to leave this, my comfortable cocoon? If Wyatt didn’t come back, would I continue as I had been before, all alone, no contact with anyone? Could I be content to stay here alone? Had I ever been?
    I gazed into the moonlight and saw that the rain had ended. Indeed, it was snow falling now, giant, lacy flakes that had already begun to whiten the trees.
    I glanced at the rope again. Would he come tomorrow? I pulled the rope out from under the bed and tied it using the figure eight knot. Then, I threw it out the window so it dangled and fell all the way to the ground.
    I closed the window as best I could and went to bed. In my darkened room, I tried to imagine he was there. After all, I had seen him before, in my dreams. But now that he had been there in the flesh, I could dream him no longer.
    That’s how I knew he was real.

Wyatt
    When I woke the next morning, it was still dark. The house was quiet. Still, I opened the window, half expecting to see Danielle again. Nothing there. But by the slim circle of moonlight, I could tell it had snowed all night long, snowed deep enough to obliterate any memory of grass. I stood for a second longer, listening for a voice on the wind. For a second, I thought I heard it. Then, it faded away. I started to put down the window. It was old and hard to pull up on, and as I struggled with it, I felt a chill run through my arms. Then, my entire body. At the same time, I noticed a car pull up in front of the house beside a bank of snowy evergreens. Its lights went out, and it disappeared. This was strange. Few cars passed in the morning. Eighteen wheelers, yes, but few cars, and fewer stopped. Probably, the driver was waiting for someone. Still, I’d remember to look when I came down.
    Now, I dressed quickly in warm clothes, bringing extra jeans and a sweater in case of another mishap. I crept into the hall. Mrs. G. wasn’t up. I’d beaten her, for once. What luck. I tiptoed down the dark stairs and left a note telling her I was going skiing with Josh.
    At the last minute, I went into the hallway coat closet and found a coat. I was careful to choose one from the back, so Mrs. G. wouldn’t notice it missing. I took the car keys and stepped outside.
    The car was in the garage, which was an old one without an electric door. But the driveway was completely snowed in. That meant I had to shovel it first. The road was already clear.
    As I shoveled, I noticed the car was still there, out on the road, far in front of the house, motor running.
    Finally, I put down the garage door and pulled onto the road.
    The car followed me.
    The road was otherwise deserted. I glanced at the dashboard clock. Six thirty. I decided to change my plans and go to the grocery store the next town over, which was south instead of north. I found a safe place, then pulled off the road without signaling. The car soared past me. It was some kind of sedan, an Accord or Taurus, dark blue or black. I made a U-turn and sped in the opposite direction.
    A minute later, I saw the same car, behind me again, its lights blazing in the window.
    Finally, I reached the grocery store. Again, I turned off without signaling, without warning. Again, the car soared past me.
    I had to wait a few minutes before the store opened at seven, but I could see the employees inside. I knew the guy would be back in a minute. Then, he was. The light was good enough, now, that I could see it was an old, dark blue Taurus. Whoever it was stayed in the car. The store opened its doors, and I walked around, choosing random items, fruit and donuts for breakfast. Why would anyone be