Your hand buckled under two metal cuffs into a position where you couldn't jut out. You stare at the commander as he bears down upon you in the storag... room of the small towny jailhouse."John you know damn well I didn't want to catch you stealing from Mr. Timms local grocery store." The man said wearing basic cop wear, a cheaply produced blue t-shirt with a rusted badge above his heart."I really don't know what you mean. I was just looking at the new bags of chips that Mr. Timms got in stock.". It still has that small town charm where the most hustle and bustle you will see is the elk and deer in the meadows. Its six hundred residents are some of the best around with a humble reputation to please.So, to Clark Fork I went looking for my mother. Last time I had been in town was when I was sixteen years old, almost ten years before. So the risk of someone recognizing me as the grandson of the Sorensen's was almost non-existent. At that time I was a young city boy who spent his summer. Fitzgerald was still a mystery to me. I had not seen much of her those first few weeks. She would come home from work, make some food for herself or her husband if he was home, then retire upstairs for the evening. The woman was extremely anti social but I was still fixated on her. One morning, I noticed something out of the ordinary. I was mowing the lawn on one of the hottest days of the summer and I stopped to wipe the sweat from my forehead using my shirt. I turned to see Mrs. Fitzgerald. It's the first thing she has said and it is a lie. Her real name is Kristy. I know this because she is my girlfriend, and as I watch this interview with her, she is sitting beside me here in my dorm room at the college we both attend. She is visibly nervous and biting her nails, studying my reaction but afraid to say anything."Well hello Katelyn. And how old are you?" Nineteen." This is true. She'll be twenty in a few months. We've been dating a little over a year, not that the unseen.
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