Chapter 3

I got into my car and started it up, feeling the emptiness of the neighborhood in the weekday morning. Everything seemed so bright and clear, and the air had just a slight touch of warmth to it. I rolled down my windows, feeling the light breeze, and focused my mind firmly on the sensation of freedom. Nobody to tell me where to go, or even to ask. I drove to the corner and hung a right, twiddling with the radio to find something to match my mood. I skipped through station after station before finally turning the thing off. Silence reigned in the car, and I found that matched my mindset just fine. I enjoyed the feel of the breeze through my open windows, and the relative quiet of the suburban traffic. I came to a complete stop at every stop sign, enjoying the feel of taking my sweet time. For the first time in my life I felt absolutely free.

I took the long way to Wall Market, using back roads and cutting through suburbs. I swung into a parking space, cutting a wide arc and feeling some pleasure at lurching to a stop and turning off the car. I sat for a moment in the stillness, then made my way into the store. I walked through each aisle, completely alone, and window shopped for perhaps the first time in my life. I just strolled up and down, looking at clothes of all kinds and styles, sticking a few in my cart, forcing my mind to not have a care in the world. I made my way up to the registers at the front of the store, but not before traversing the entire place. As I drew to the front, I could see that there was only one register open, and I headed that way.

The light was on above the register, but I found it vacant. Bemused, I stared around, looking for signs of life. I spotted a small, auburn-haired girl hurrying my way and smiled at her.

"Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

She blushed a little but slowed her pace. She came up and around the register and tapped in her code, unlocking the computer. Slightly out of breath, she began to swipe the clothes across the scanning eye, a muted beep accompanying each item.

"I... I'm not sure if this is going to work. I haven't used this card in a while, and payday's not for a few days."

She glanced up at me and shot me a quick smile as she scanned the last shirt and rapped the Total key. The balance showed on her screen as $26.73, and I stepped over to the card reader. A quick swipe later, the word 'Approved' displayed, and her register chattered out my receipt. With a professional swipe of her hand, the clerk handed me my receipt with a small smile.

"Thank you, Sir. Have a good day."

I smiled back at her, enjoying the sight of her flipping an errant lock of hair out of her eyes as I took the proferred receipt.

"Thanks. I'll do my best."

I made my way home for a shower and a change, and adopted the same leisurely pace I had used to get to the store. I pulled up in front of the house and grabbed the bag with my clothes inside. I locked up and was heading for the door when my mom pulled up. It was still before noon, so I was very surprised she was home from work. She waved to me through windshield as she parked the car, and I waited on the step for her. She got out and made her way towards me with a serious expression on her face.

"I've been wondering where you were... a man called me at the office and asked if I knew where to find you. I said you were staying with me for a while, and he asked for the address. Something in his tone made me wonder, so I came home to see if everything was OK."

"I just got here myself, actually. I had to go buy some clothes to change into."

I held up my bag as proof of my tale, and she gave me a quick smile. As she started to speak, though, a small red pickup truck pulled to the curb, drawing our attention. A greasy-looking man climbed partway out and called up to us.

"Mister Allen?"

I squinted into the sun just a bit, trying to get a good look at the man.

"Yes, Sir?"

He gave a nod and slumped back into the seat, turning off the truck and grabbing a manila envelope. He clambered back out and made his way across the lawn towards where we stood.

"Mister Allen, my name's James Gromwell. I've got some papers that I need you to sign here. Do you have a pen?"

"Wait just a second. What kind of papers? What's this all about."

"It looks like your wife is filing a restraining order against you, Sir, and a Divorce agreement as well here for you to sign. If you're willing, Sir, I'd be happy to witness your signature here... and here... and initials here. Ma'am, if you would also be willing to sign as a witness?"

"Sure, if it's needed."

My brain was completely short-circuited by the rapid-fire speech of the man. Restraining Order? Divorce Agreement? My eyes flitted across the sheets, catching a few keywords and the overall gist of both documents. I turned to my mom, wide-eyed.

"Jen's claiming domestic abuse, and is filing for an accelerated divorce. I can't go within 500 yards of her..."

"Oh honey," she said, pulling me into a hug. I put my arm around her, not knowing how I should feel. I couldn't think, and could barely breathe.

"Sir? Will you sign?"

I looked at the man, who was waggling a cheap plastic pen at me. I nodded and took it. I turned and placed the papers against the pillar of the porch and signed both forms where he had indicated, and initialed at the bottom.

"In addition, Sir, since you've signed the Divorce Agreement, would you also be willing to sign this Waiver of Notice?"

"What's that for?"

"It's agreeing to waive your right of notification when the divorce is finalized."

"How long does it usually take to finalize everything?"

"Usually about a week, in a case like this. For all intents and purposes, with the agreement you just signed, you're divorced. The judges in this state just stamp orders like these wholesale, and then that's it."