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Novelo Rectangle

She vanished just as the year ended, the cold snap of December 31st freezing her last footprints in the snow before the wind could erase them. Donna never missed a New Year's Eve party in 15 years and was always laughing, always staying to help clean up the confetti-strewn floors and half-empty champagne flutes. But this year, she was gone without a word. James sat in his La-Z-Boy, alone, and stared at the muted TV replaying the ball drop-the very same countdown he had watched every year since he was a boy. The cheer in the room had turned into an unnerving quietness, the kind that amplifies each creak of an old house. Missy Dawg laid her chin on his knee, her big eyes straying toward the door as if expecting Donna to burst in at any moment with her tray of homemade hors d'oeuvres and her warm, teasing laughter.But Donna wouldn't come. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again.The police had come once, an unpleasant punctuation in what otherwise should have been a fun evening. "Positive she didn't say anything peculiar? No disagreements, nothing different? A sign that she might be disturbed?" Officer Pearce had asked as she flipped her notepad back and forth in obvious impatience."No," James had replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Donna doesn't just leave."And she didn't. Donna was the glue in the neighborhood-the one who knew everyone's birthdays, everyone's secrets, but kept them locked away in the same loving care she gave to stray dogs and squirrels. Her husband, David, had called James earlier that night, panic choking his words as he explained Donna had gone out to feed the birds around 4 p.m. and never came back. James had gone running to help search, flashlight in hand, his breath visible in that bitter air. He and David had followed the trail of footprints leading to the backyard, but there it was, under the sycamore tree, where the feeder stood, that the tracks simply stopped. Just… stopped. As if Donna had been plucked from the earth by some invisible hand.They weren't the type of police to take things too seriously. "People wander off," Pearce had said, professionally but dismissively. "It's not uncommon, especially in winter. They get lost in the woods or disoriented in the cold." But James knew better. Donna wasn't people. She would never wander off without leaving some note or telling someone where she was heading for. Now, as midnight passed and the world moved on to January, James felt the familiar gnaw of guilt in his stomach. Could he have done more? Said something? Noticed something earlier? Missy whined softly, and he stroked her head, the repetitive motion the only thing grounding him in the silence. Across town, David sat on the edge of their unmade bed and stared at the open closet.Donna's clothes still hung neatly in their place, the faint scent of her lavender detergent hanging in the air like a ghost. He hadn't slept, hadn't even sat down until James had forced him to take a break. Now it was suffocating him in reminders of her absence-the empty birdseed bag she had meant to refill, her Bible lay open on the kitchen counter at a passage promising hope, and her favorite slippers sat by the fireplace, awaiting feet that may never come again.David fisted his hands, his mind racing. He had been married to Donna for over 40 years, and within that period, he could not remember any single moment when he did not know where she was. Even when they argued, she would go for a walk and come back with the same loving eyes and gentle hands that could calm even his worst tempers.Now, she was just gone, and it was as if his chest had been scooped out.He replayed their last conversation over and over in his head, searching for some sort of clue."Birds don't stop eating just because it's cold," Donna had said, tugging on her boots with a grin. "If I don't go out, who's going to feed them?""I'll do it tomorrow," he'd replied, without so much as lifting his eyes from his book. But Donna had laughed and kissed his cheek. "By tomorrow, they'll be starving. You know I can't let that happen."It wasn't much - nothing special, nothing that would show she wasn't going to come back.By morning, the neighborhood had mobilized-small groups of volunteers combing through the nearby woods and fields with flashlights and drones. The search dogs came out, sniffing at Donna's gloves and scarves, but they too seemed to lose her scent at the sycamore tree. James joined in, Missy trotting beside him with a focused determination as if she too could sense something was wrong.The woods were eerily quiet, the only sound the crunch of boots on frozen ground and the occasional, distant call of Donna's name. James's mind was racing, thinking of all the possible explanations: an accident, an animal attack, foul play. But none of them made sense. Donna was cautious and smart. She didn't take risks, especially not with her life.He stopped suddenly, his flashlight catching something glinting in the snow - a small, silver charm in the shape of a dove. He crouched down to pick it up; his heart pounded as he did so. Donna had worn it on her bracelet for as long as he'd known her. She never took it off. "David!" James called, his voice cracking in the stillness of the air. "Over here!"David hurried over, his face pale and drawn. He saw the charm in James's hand and dropped to his knees, clutching it as if it were Donna herself. Weeks went into months, but there was just no hint of her anywhere: no traces, no letter of ransom-nothing-no dead body either. The neighborhood went quieter; the groups of searching went smaller, and then left only James and David continuing that search along all the old trails, frozen fields. The police generally gave up their pursuit of it and passed her case over to be one of some accident that has happened.But James couldn't let it go. Donna wasn't just a neighbor; she was family. She'd taken care of him whenever he was sick, fed him when he couldn't afford to buy groceries, treated Missy like she was her own child. The world felt wrong without her in it. It had been weeks since James sat one evening by that firepit Donna always loved. He looked upward, trying to search from the star-laden evening sky for reason amidst the unreasonable. Missy, curled at his feet, stirred in sleep softly; her twitching nose leading the dance. Suddenly, Missy's ears perked up, and she sat bolt upright growling softly. James followed her gaze to the edge of the yard where the sycamore tree stood black against the moonlight.Then he saw it-a pale flickering light, candlelike, soft glowing beneath the branches. His breath caught, and he stood, his legs trembling, as he moved toward the tree. The light didn't move, didn't fade but seemed to pulse softly, like a heartbeat.As he drew closer, he saw something that he couldn't explain-a small circle of snow was perfectly melted, and in its center lay Donna's scarf, folded neatly with her dove charm laying on top. The light seemed to emanate from the charm itself, an ethereal glow that caused the hair on James's arms to stand on end."Donna?" he mouthed, his voice barely audible. There was no response, only the flicker of a light once, twice, then to blackness with James left standing alone. He picked up the scarf and charm and clutched it tightly, not letting go while the tears coursed down his face. Yet he did not know what exactly happened to Donna, whether she was dead or migrated to some region of the atmosphere. But somehow he seemed to feel that at that moment she was right behind him, even reaching out her arms and saying into his ear: "I am still here with you.". This would be a mystery to haunt James and David forever, haunting the neighborhood with questions such as: What took Donna? Is she alive or is this a sign from wherever she went, her soul finally found peace? All the answers are never to be given, keeping the story as cold and open-ended as that winter night.

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When the Year Stopped Cold

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James L Wells

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When the Year Ran Cold

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James L Wells

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