THE CAT LADY VANISHES

But she'd bet "a dime to a doughnut" that the post office would have forwarded a letter if it were made clear that the issue was urgent, even though it had returned her mail undelivered. Helen hadn't called her family because she was waiting to get settled. It's not unusual. They've gone for years at a time without being in touch with one another.

Certainly, Helen would never consider herself missing, like some common bag lady. She doesn't need to be rescued. Go save someone else.

Her life is her own and she prefers not to discuss it. She might talk about her artwork, but not now. Not when all of her work is still packed away. Her paintings are all over town, but nowhere she'll say.

The sun gradually gives way to dark clouds and startling thunderclaps. Rain pours down hard onto the dirt yard outside Helen's apartment. Helen produces little white plastic grocery bags and quickly fashions them into a covering for a visitor who must run through the rain. The inheritance doesn't mean much. She's done just fine without it. She'll thank you to stay out of her business. And here's the door.

Maybe they could meet again. Maybe they could start over sometime on a more pleasant note.

Or maybe it was arrogant to think that Helen somehow needs help because she's chosen her own path. And that there is only one possible happy ending to a story.