The Jogging Lady

By Eddy Bryant

Ross Mallorys perfect life ended a year ago when his wife Jenny died. That was when he gave up, and began waiting for death to come for him as well.

Now things have changed, and not all of it for the better. Now that he has met his neighbor Susan, who is suddenly obsessed with jogging.

Ross soon falls into her obsession and along the way the mystery that is Susan grows. Where is she going? Why is he being forced to go along with her? How can he be falling in love with this woman? What are these living shadows that have invaded his life with fear? And is Jenny really coming back from beyond the grave to stop him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 22, 2003
• ISBN: 9781462842414

Eddy Bryant

EDDY BRYANT was born in Atlanta, grew up in Missouri and now resides in Daytona Beach Florida. He has been writing stories all his life, finishing his first novel at the age of twelve. His hobbies are refurbishing old houses, and touring cemeteries. He is currently working on his next novel, WAIT.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

S. MILTNER

THE PROBLEM WITH those great moments in life, the moments that change us from the people we were into the people we are, is that we can never see them as they happen. We can only learn to enjoy, regret, love, or hate those moments later on in time as they are played out as a memory.

Ross Mallory took in a deep breath of fresh early morning air. He had come out onto his front porch to see what kind of day God had decided to give His world. It was a good one. The sun was shining, and there were only a few cotton ball clouds floating in the sky. There were two birds hopping around on his front lawn, tweeting whatever gossip two birds might have to tweet about. All in all, this was the perfect spring morning.

There is only one day like this each year. A day where you can tell by the first sun filled breath that spring has arrived and the winter cold is finally over.

It was the first day of spring, not the one marked on the calendar, but the real one. The day where there is just a feeling in the air that anything can happen, the loneliest man could find love, the biggest loser could finally win. And maybe, just maybe, even a bit of magic could arrive to transform a life or two.

Good morning. The sound of Ross’ voice scared the birds into flying away, but only to a tree across the street. He smiled a half smile, the best he had been able to do for quite some time. It was a wonderful morning, yet the only thing he could think of was how much his late wife Jenny would have loved this day.

Ross had been married to Jenny for twenty-seven years when she lost her long hard battle with cancer. She passed away nine months earlier, and every day since, he couldn’t help but think about how cruel life was, and how very cruel it was to him. He was only fifty-three years old and already alone in the world. He never regretted the fact that they never had any children until the day he needed to share his grief with someone who truly understood his loss, and no one was there.

For the last nine months all Ross had in his life was missing Jenny and counting the regrets. Mostly he regretted the decision to sell his hardware store just over a year ago. He sold it when Jenny’s condition had gotten to the point where she could do very little on her own. He could have hired a nurse to stay with her, but he knew her time was short and he wanted to be with her as much as possible. The problem was that she didn’t last long after that. Before she died, he hadn’t given any thought to what his life would be like without her, when he no longer had anything left to fill the endless hours between sleep.

Ross had been awake for less than an hour and already the little bit of happiness that came with the new spring day had given away to feelings of self-pity and hatred for his life. He gulped down the last of his coffee and was about to go in for a refill when the sound of a slamming door came from the house to his left. If he had been in a better frame of mind at that moment he would have surely burst into hysterical laughter at the sight of what was bouncing down the front stairs of his neighbor’s house.

A short fat woman wearing bright green shorts and a pink T-shirt that was so small on her that it looked as if it was about to explode off her huge chest and her even bigger belly. She had on dirty white tennis shoes over knee length socks striped with every color of the rainbow. She had to have been the strangest creature he had ever seen.

Hi, Ross said, as he waved just to be friendly. He wasn’t sure if she had seen or heard him. If she had, she was ignoring him. He couldn’t blame her if she were. They had been living next door to each other ever since she had moved into town two years ago. The only things he knew about her were that her last name was Miltner and that her first name began with an S. He only had that bit of information because of the red letters that she painted on the side of her mailbox the day after she moved in.

He never had gotten around to going next door to meet S. Miltner and he knew Jenny would be disappointed in him. For the first time he wondered if Jenny even knew about S. Miltner. Jenny had been in the hospital with a long stint of painful treatments when their neighbor moved in. At the time Ross had been her main source of information. He was sure that if he had told Jenny about S. Miltner she would have made him go over and learn all he could about her hopefully new friend. That was Jenny’s mission in life, to meet as many people as she could and make a friend out of each and every one. As far as he knew, she had never failed.

S. Miltner had been jogging for several minutes and had only gotten just past Ross’ house. He had never seen her jog before and he believed that this had to be the first morning she had done so. By the looks of her, it would probably be her last as well. Her hair was already matted to her neck with sweat, and she looked as if she could drop over at any minute. She was leaning forward as if she was trying to do a hunchback imitation. The fat on her arms were slapping her bulging shirt as she pumped them back and forth. They actually made a clapping sound as she went down the street.

Ross wanted to go in, but he couldn’t stop watching this jogging lady stumble down the street to her own applause. She was like the hypothetical car wreck. You don’t want to look at it, but your eyes are mysteriously drawn to the horrific sight.

With a smile, Ross thought about how she looked like a human beach ball, a beach ball that was partially deflated. Just enough air had been let out to make it totally useless. If you tried to throw it, it would just flop off to the side, not even close to where you wanted it to go. That was also how she seemed to move. She kept swaying back and forth. It was a miracle that she hadn’t fallen.

As that thought formed in his mind, a black pickup truck with an almost bald teenaged boy hanging out of the passenger window slid up along side S. Miltner. Whatcha running for? That big scary thing chasing you ain’t no monster . . . it’s your ass! The kid hanging out the window began to laugh so loud at his comment that Ross missed what the driver had yelled. Whatever it was that the other one said, it must have been a good one by the way they were laughing as they sped away. They were laughing so hard that Ross figured at least one of them was about to die from a busted gut.

The smile faded from Ross’ face. He was filled with embarrassment and guilt. He was embarrassed for S. Miltner and guilty for the things he had been thinking of her. He wanted to run after her and apologize to her for the things that were said and the things that he thought.

With shame he took one last look after the jogging lady and realized that he no longer felt bad for her. He was beginning to feel a great deal of pride for her. She just kept on going, acting as if the boys hadn’t bothered her in the least. For a brief second he wondered if perhaps she was deaf and hadn’t heard a thing they had said. He shrugged that thought off. Even if she couldn’t hear them, it would be impossible to miss what they were saying.

Ross shook his head as he watched her turn the corner. She still looked as if she was about to drop, but he knew she wouldn’t. He wished Jenny would have had the chance to meet S. Miltner. He also hoped that she had seen his wave.

Ross took another deep breath and then went back inside for his third cup of coffee of the morning, not realizing that he had just lived one of those moments that can change a life forever.

Two days passed and each morning would find S. Miltner jogging down the street. Each morning Ross would wave to her, and each time she would ignore him, as well as everything else. She looked so determined. It was as if she were the only soul in her own little world.

The jogging outfits S. Miltner wore each morning were better than the one before, but only slightly. Ross still had to fight back the giggles at the first sight of her choice of apparel for the day.

Ross had yet to see his neighbor return from her run and was curious as to how long she was gone each day. He didn’t believe that she could go far, but at the speed she started at and figuring that she had to slow as she went, it could take an hour just to jog a couple of blocks. Today he decided to wait for her to return. Maybe after her daily exercise she would want to talk. It was well overdue for the two of them to meet.

Ross sat on his porch all morning, except for a quick bathroom and refill the coffee break. When two hours had gone by and there was no sign of S. Miltner, he thought that she must have sneaked in while he was getting his coffee. He was about to give up and go inside, but the sun was warm on his face and it was so nice just sitting there. He would wait just a little longer. It was sad, but waiting for S. Miltner to return home was the most interesting thing he had done in months.

S. Miltner appeared back around the corner just before noon. Her motion no longer even came close to resembling a jog. She was swaggering from side to side. Her feet coming very close to tripping themselves up. Ross was sure all she wanted at that moment was to get into her house without falling, and busting her face in the process.

Sweat was flowing like a river from her forehead and dripping like a waterfall off her nose and chin. Her blond hair was now dark with wetness. Her jogging clothes were soaked so completely that she could have just climbed out of a lake and you wouldn’t know the difference.

She finally reached the bottom of the four stairs leading to her front door. She grabbed at the rusted railing and her legs seemed to give out at that same instant. She pulled herself up and dragged herself the rest of the way along the railing. It looked as if this was taking more energy than anything she had ever done. The look on her face was that of pure pain.

Have a nice run this morning? Ross asked as she unlocked her front door. She looked at him and waved her left hand as if to say she couldn’t or just didn’t want to respond. Ross figured that it was a bit of both, even if she could answer, she wouldn’t.

Ross went in after that. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. He understood the way she must feel about him, and that made it even worse. Too much time had gone by to begin the good neighbor routine and he knew it.

It wasn’t even that he would have had to go next door to get to know S. Miltner. He had passed her many times while coming home from work or just checking the mail. Before the other morning he hadn’t even acknowledged her existence with a wave. He was ashamed of himself now, but before, he didn’t even care about his private laughs he had at her expense. It seemed as if every time he did see her, she was shoving something into her mouth. Usually a chocolate bar, or at least something covered in chocolate. In fact he really expected to see S. Miltner return from her jog with a chocolate milk shake in one hand and a half eaten stack of Hershey bars in the other.

Ross spent the rest of the day in the downstairs back bedroom. When they had bought the house shortly after they were married, this room was someday going to belong to their son or daughter. When it came apparent that no bundle of joy was going to make an appearance, Ross turned it into a painting studio. This was where he had spent most of his days as of late. He did a little painting, but mostly he just sat and tried to think of something better to do. He was lucky in the fact that he didn’t have to worry about money. The hardware store had been good to him over the years. In a way it might have been better if he had to find a way to make a living. Then he would have had less time to dwell on the past.

For the last few weeks he had been painting a picture of a covered bridge. He found the photograph in National Geographic. He wasn’t trying to copy it perfectly, he was just using the photo as a guide. It was taking him a long time, but, of coarse, what was the rush. When it was finished, he was the only one who was going to see it. Anymore, the thing he wanted most was just to have someone to share things with. His thoughts, his paintings, maybe even a meal or two.

Ross was lonely and he knew that he was the one to blame. Jenny wasn’t the only person he had in his life, just the most important one. She was a part of everything, and everyone he knew. Now, everything and everyone in his life, was just another reminder that she was no longer with him. It was a reminder that he didn’t need, and didn’t want.

For days after Jenny’s death, friends were constantly at his door or on the phone. He was told a thousand times that Jenny was better off with God in peace, than on Earth in pain. Ross knew that this was true, but each time he heard that she was better off, he felt worse. Jenny’s pain was finally over, while his was just beginning.

The women all brought over fresh baked pies and casseroles in green or blue glass pans. The men were there as well, trying to talk him into going fishing, playing cards, or almost anything that would get him away from the house for a while. Ross knew that they all meant well, but he didn’t want their pies, noodle salads, or lame attempts to get his mind off what had just happened. He had lost his wife. The most important thing in his life was now gone, he wanted to remember her, he wanted to cry over her death, and mostly, he wanted to do it alone.

One day his wish came true. No invitations to ‘come over and watch the game on TV’ came by way of the phone, and no food was delivered to his door. That first day came as a shock. He waited all day with an irritated heart for the pestering to begin, and when it didn’t come, he went to bed even more frustrated than usual. The second day he just cried and was grateful for the quiet house in which to do it in. For the next few weeks, every day was about the same. That was when the quiet house started to be not such a nice thing to have around him.

Ross knew it was up to him to make the calls and the visits now, but he didn’t know how to do it. He had never been very good at the social graces. Jenny always told him what the appropriate thing was to say as well as when it was time to say it. He didn’t know how to just call up someone and say, I’m tired of mourning my dead wife now, let’s go do something. And he wasn’t totally sure that he wanted those people back in his life. They weren’t his friends, they were Jenny and his friends. Maybe having them around would just be a big reminder that she wasn’t there. When her voice didn’t interrupt the conversation with one of her comments if the political discussion got a little too heavy, wouldn’t it just break his heart all over again? He still hurt every day with missing her, he didn’t need more hurt than he already had.

The easiest solution would be just to make a new friend or two. But again, this wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He lived all his life in the small town of Potter’s Hill, Georgia, and everyone in town that he wanted to know, he knew. And anymore he didn’t really want to know anyone he knew.

That was why S. Miltner not waving back to him mattered so much. She was someone who didn’t know Jenny. He could bring his wife into the conversations when and how he wanted. He knew he should just bite the bullet and go next door to meet S. Miltner, the worst thing that could happen would be that he would get a speech on how to be a neighbor. And that was why he hadn’t gone over yet. Maybe he was just a coward, but he didn’t want to hear what a bad person he was to live next to. He already knew that, and had already given himself that same speech a hundred times in the last couple of days.

What is wrong with me? Ross asked himself as he took down the painting he was working on and replaced it with the only portrait he had ever painted. This painting was of Jenny. He was working on it when she died, so he had never been able to show it to her. This was yet another of those great regrets that he counted each day.

Why did you have to leave me, Jenny? A tear formed in his eye as he pulled an old, paint splattered lounge chair over and sat down. He leaned back and looked at the image of the woman he loved and waited for an answer that wouldn’t come.

The painting wasn’t of the Jenny that was so sick the last couple of years of her life, but of the Jenny, he had fallen in love with. She was always beautiful, even on her deathbed, but this was when she could outshine the sun. She was the awe of so many men. Ross wondered, not for the first time, how he had ever been so lucky to win her.

In the painting, Jenny was running forward as if out of the canvas, her bare feet seemed to ride on top of the green grass instead of sinking into it. Her long brown hair was flying back and to the left in a breeze that effected her, but not the trees and bushes around her. Her arms were hanging to her side, her hands facing palm out. The yellow sundress she was wearing was pulled tight by her running, [as well as by her private breeze]. It was so that you could see the very shape of this woman. The curve of her breasts, the lines of her legs, and even the little nub that was her ‘outie’ belly button.

How was he even expected to go on now that all he had lived for all his adult life, was gone? Unless a miracle happened, this was going to be the way he would spend the rest of his life, thinking of the past, and wishing the present would be different, yet never doing anything to change it. The life of a coward can be a lonely one.

The day moved slowly on until it began to give way to the night. Ross had stayed where he was for the last several hours just looking at the image of his late wife, as if in a trance of worship. In his mind he was reliving his life with Jenny over again. Like always, the good memories were the hardest to pull up in his brain. It was those moments where he wasn’t the kind of husband he should have been, the fights, the lies, the tiny deceptions, and the pangs of hatred that popped up every once in a while mixed with jealousy, that came so freely. He couldn’t change the past, so he tried to change the memory. But instead of feeling better about those bad times, he felt worse. He tried to explain his actions to himself, yet he could never find an excuse good enough to have hurt Jenny.

There was never anything big. He had never cheated on Jenny. Why would he? He had the perfect woman at home. His biggest mistake was forgetting that. He loved her and he had very little doubt that she knew it, but maybe he hadn’t shown her as often as he should have.

Ross stood up with a sigh. It was turning dark outside. Another day had vanished in the same way so many had before, and in the way Ross feared, so many more would before his life was through.

CHAPTER TWO

RED BLOOD ON GREEN GRASS

FOR THE NEXT three weeks Ross watched S. Miltner go out and return every day. And each morning she would ignore his Good morning, and each afternoon when she returned he would receive her by asking how her run was. She still shrugged off his question, but as the days went by her wave became more of an acknowledgment of him and less of a get out of my face, jester. Or at least that was what Ross believed, even though the doubts were still there.

Ross told himself each day that he should go over, yet he still hadn’t found the courage to do so. He had thought up a hundred and one excuses to give her about finally knocking on her door, but not even one for why he had never done so before. If only she would respond to one of his greetings, then it would be a lot easier. But she hadn’t, and he was about to give up hope that she ever would. If she hated him so much that returning a wave was too friendly for her, then there really wasn’t any hope that he could get to know this jogging lady.

That morning S. Miltner came jogging around the corner a little earlier than usual. She no longer stumbled down the street like she was one of the living dead, and she no longer had to pull herself along the railing to her door. She was still fat and her fashion sense hadn’t improved, but her mixed matched running clothes were beginning to fit her a little better.

Ross was amazed at how different she looked as she went by. How could someone change so much in just one day? It wasn’t the few less pounds, that had been one of the slow changes, like her ability to make it to her front door in a straight line, instead of wobbling all over the street. This was something different. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was definitely there. Maybe it was just a really good day for her and her happiness was radiating out from her. Whatever it was, she did seem to have a bit of a glow to her.

Ross was so into watching his neighbor and trying to figure out what was new about her that he didn’t realize that he hadn’t asked her about her jog until he saw her go inside with a slamming of the door. The banging sound was so loud that Ross thought that he could actually feel the air vibrate. Well, there went his theory of her really good day.

Ross went inside as well. He was shaking his bald head and wondering where his mind had gone. A heavy feeling of guilt had come over him. He didn’t know why missing a Hope you had a pleasant run today, should make him feel so bad. Especially since his words were so unwanted in the first place.

Later that afternoon Ross was out back of his house mowing the lawn. He was wearing only an old pair of jeans that had been cut off just above the knees and a Colorado Rockies baseball cap. The temperature was in the low eighties and the sun was beaming into his bare chest and legs, darkening the tan that was started during the last couple of weeks of mowings.

Ross’ muscles were sore from pushing the old mower. The wheels were worn down from the years of use and he had to put his whole body behind it just to keep it moving. The sound of the mower was so loud that it could rival that of a jet plane taking off. It had already stopped on him five times today. He knew that he should have gotten a new one a long time ago, but he was of the belief that as long as it worked, no matter how badly, then there was no need to spend the money.

For the last few weeks he had thought about hiring one of the neighborhood kids to mow his lawn, but it was the only exercise he had been getting lately. Besides, mow day was the only break he had from his worshiping of the painting of Jenny.

He was almost finished. There was just a small section of grass left to be cut right in the center of the lawn. That was when the mower died once more, and for the final time.

Ross fought with the stupid machine for several minutes trying to revive it. He knew it was dead, but there was no way he was going to let it rest in peace. Each time he yanked at the cord, his frustration grew worse. After ten minutes of this, his temper blew. A flow of obscenities flew from his lips like a river raging out of control. With each word of profanity he stomped on or kicked at the broken mower. The tantrum continued until Ross was out of breath and exhausted. He tucked his hands into his sides and tried to catch his breath.

Ross stood there looking down at the lawn mower. He had caught his breath, but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his anger. He decided that he needed to break the machine just to make his point. He lifted it over his head, meaning to smash it to the ground. As he was bringing it downward, he heard something in his right shoulder pop. A bolt of pain shot along his arm and down his back. He lost his grip, sending the mower to the ground, only not with the kind of force that he wanted. He followed it down, landing on his shoulder, sending another bolt of pain to his brain. This caused a scream to escape his mouth, along with a few more of those words Jenny hated him using.

Ross jumped to his feet at kicked at the mower one more time. The mower was laying upside down, a fact that didn’t register in his brain until it was too late. Panic struck even before he felt the blade slice through his shoe and into his foot. He jerked back before the pain had a chance to set in. He somehow got himself turned around and he tripped backwards over the mower. He landed on the ground, flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.

Ross was scared to move. He just lay there on the ground with his legs sticking up in the air. He was in pain from his back, and shoulder, as well as from his cut foot. For the moment he couldn’t even breathe. It was during that moment that he heard the soft laughter. It was the kind of laugh you would expect to hear coming from a cartoon chipmunk.

S. Miltner was in her back yard working in her garden. She had watched her neighbor having his fit. She tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. The sight of this man cussing out and trying to beat up his lawn mower, and apparently loosing, struck something in her. It was the funniest thing she had seen in a long time. In fact it was the first time she had laughed in a very long time.

The anger that Ross had felt just seconds earlier was once again about to boil over. It was that laughter. He knew who it was even before he looked up. It was S. Miltner, that fat, rude, beach ball looking, jogging lady. How dare she spy on him? And laugh at his pain?

Ross sat up, ready to give miss S. Miltner the same as he had given the mower, except the kicking and stomping. Maybe.

He opened his mouth to speak a few choice words, but the moment he looked at his neighbor, the words died before they could come out. The look on his face must not have faded fast enough though. At the same instant that their eyes met, S. Miltner stopped laughing and quickly covered her face with her mud covered hands. The little bit of face that there was left to see turned bright red.

The very sight of S. Miltner made him forget all about his pain and anger, and he began to laugh. She was wearing a bright purple jumpsuit with a wide white belt with what looked like a large yellow sunflower as a buckle. There were big circles of mud on her knees.

S. Miltner joined in with Ross’ laughter. When she removed her hands from her face, there was a smear of mud across her forehead and a spot right at the tip of her nose. I’m sorry for laughing at you, it’s just that you looked so funny, she said between her giggles.

I guess I did at that, Ross replied. He had calmed down, but as he did, the pain in his foot shot into the moment with a vengeance. Blood was seeping through the cut in his shoe and turning the freshly cut grass red.

I can’t believe that I’m laughing while you’re hurt, S. Miltner said when she noticed the blood. Ross could tell by the tone of her voice that she really felt sorry for his injury. He also heard something else in her voice. He didn’t know what it was, but there was some sort of memory born out of those few words, a memory that sent a pang to his heart.

It’s not bad, I don’t think. He wiggled his toes to see if they still worked. They did, and it hurt like Hell. Ross didn’t realize that he had cried out until he saw S. Miltner cringe. That was one of the problems with being alone, you stop paying attention to the sounds you make.

Do you need any help? She asked.

I’ll be fine. I just need to go in and clean it up, Ross said as he limped to his back door. Before going in he looked back to discover that S. Miltner had disappeared. He wondered if that happy, yet painful moment would be the only one he would share with his neighbor. He hoped not, but he had let the moment end without saying any of the things he knew he should have.

There was a line of blood leading from the mower to the back door. The contrast between the red blood on the green grass sent a shiver down his back. The sight made his head swim with dizziness.

Ross went in to clean up his bloody foot. As soon as he took off his shoe, there was a knock on his door. An uncontrollable smile appeared on his face as he went to answer it. It had to be her.

It was S. Miltner. She was standing at his door with a bottle of antiseptic and a couple of bandages. I thought you could use some help, she said as he issued her in. Her smile was so wide that he could see that she