Page 99 of Good Dirt

Places People Go

2002

B ecause this was the way of the world.

There were places.

Where a man with money could hide his resources from public scrutiny.

There were places.

Where a man could go to hide himself.

There were ways.

That a man could disappear.

Be feared lost forever amid a disastrous event.

Be searched for, but never found.

Find himself walking away from a coffee shop, stunned, but safe.

Then running in the other direction.

There were times.

When a widow might leave her old life behind.

To distance herself from a tragedy that had left her alone.

To retire to a quiet offshore estate.

Far from the unrelenting gaze of the media.

Take her jewelry with her.

Take her late husband’s art collection.

Take a lover who resembled her husband.

Though he was different.

Tucker’s hair had been the color of a darkened room.

Black with hints of gray.

Her lover’s hair was blond.

Bleached bright as the midday sun.

Glinting above his middle-aged forehead like the promise of a second chance.

There were places.

Where, throughout the ages, people have been able to go.

To live without accountability.