New to The Dalton Files? Start with The Empty Envelope.

Dalton File #1:

The cries of desperation from Martha. My feeble attempt to reach her. I have always blamed myself…and God.

On the Beach

Martha was the one woman in my life that I truly loved. We were to be married in September.

It was a hot August day, not unlike most summer days, and we were at the beach. The beach was our spot. Some people like to go out to dinner and go dancing, others like to go to a picture show. But Martha and me? We loved the beach.

I first met Martha on the beach. She was having a vanilla ice cream cone at a little ice cream stand. I bought a chocolate cone and introduced myself. She had a large white sun hat on and when she turned to me it scraped against my cheek. I still remember the way she smiled at me and told me her name.

We fell in love at the beach. Whenever we needed to get away for a little while we would head down the coast to our favorite spot, and let the cares of the world disappear. When we were there nothing else mattered. We were happiest at the beach. Sometimes we would go to the beach when it was raining, and just sit in the car and watch the waves crash on the rocks.

We were going to get married there in just a few weeks, and we hoped to have a small place on the beach someday. Nothing fancy, just a little house overlooking the ocean that would be our special hideaway.

That Day

We spent the whole day at the beach that day; laying in the sun, swimming, and eating ice cream from that same little stand where we first met. We had hamburger sandwiches for dinner at our favorite little food shack, next to the ice cream stand on the boardwalk. We decided to watch the sun go down from the rocks on the shore.

The waves were crashing against the rocks and we were getting wet. We didn’t care, it felt good on a hot day. We were climbing on the rocks and exploring. We loved finding the different things that were left behind on the rocks by the waves. Shells, small crabs, you know, things like that. Sometimes Martha would throw the crabs back into the ocean so they wouldn’t be stranded.

Suddenly a huge wave hit us and Martha was pulled off of the rocks and into the ocean.

She hit her head on the rocks on the way down, and I didn’t know if she was conscious. But then she came up and I heard her yell, “Jerry!” She was the only person I ever let call me that. I didn’t like the nickname when others called me that, but from her it sounded so sweet and innocent. With her everything was always okay. I was Jerry.

I reached for her outstretched hand but couldn’t grasp it. The waves kept pounding on the rocks and she was being tossed around.

The waves were pushing her against the rocks and she kept going under. Every time she went under, she stayed under longer. I managed to grab onto her hand once and tried to pull her out, but when I tried to strengthen my grip she slipped out of my hand. It was no use, I couldn’t reach her hand again so I jumped into the ocean too, but it was too late.

The tide was pulling me away from her and forcing me against the rocks also. Eventually I managed to pull myself to safety but I couldn’t find Martha. I didn’t hear her screaming anymore.

The only thing worse than hearing her scream was not hearing her scream. Why did I wait so long to jump in? I should have gone back in the water, I should have done more, I should have…but I lay exhausted and alone on the rocks. I couldn’t move.

I Accuse God

She was gone, the one woman I ever loved. How could God do this to me? What type of God would allow a perfect woman like Martha to die in the prime of her life? And in such a horrible way? We had plans for a family and God took it all away. It wasn’t fair! God isn’t fair. I don’t need or want this type of God!

I angrily walked away from God that day, and decided never to give my heart to another dame. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing somebody else. I even distanced myself from my family and friends. They tried to console me but I didn’t want to hear what they had to say. I was bitter towards everybody and at everything.

I started drinking. The bottle became my friend. The only friend I needed. Whiskey didn’t ask questions and it didn’t expect anything from me. For years I drank myself to sleep. I couldn’t sleep at night without getting so tight that I passed out. Drinking was the only way to keep the nightmares away when I did fall asleep. I was too drunk to dream or to care. I couldn’t forgive myself for that night on the beach, and I couldn’t forgive God.

I lost my job on the police force because the booze gave me a bad attitude and a short temper. I was angry at everybody and flew off in a rage easily. I was meant to be a copper. I enjoyed being a copper, and now that was gone too. God took everything from me. I had no girl, no job, and no reason to care. But I needed a job because the hooch doesn’t come cheap.

I became a private eye because I didn’t know how to do anything but police work, and I was too toxic to be hired by any force. The funny thing is, this is the first time I’ve ever admitted my responsibility in what happened to me. Before that night Mary walked into my office I thought it was always God’s fault–he must have had it in for me.

My Life Since Mary

I have never been back to the beach again. There are still too many painful memories there. I didn’t think about dames or God again until Mary came into my life for one brief hot and rainy summer night.

I thought I was helping her find a man, but she was looking for a savior. And believe me, that savior wasn’t me. I’ve come to think of that rainy street as the beginning of the road to my salvation. I started out by helping her after she slid an empty envelope to me. She promised me a reward greater than I could imagine. How could I possibly have known what she meant? I only saw dollar signs.

I started out looking for wealth, but I ended up finding something much greater. Now, instead of being haunted by that day on the beach all those years ago, I look forward to a new life. I have accepted the forgiveness that came with letting go of my former life and putting my life in the hands of Christ.

I came home from church that morning, finally at peace for the first time since that day at the beach. I didn’t understand how at the time, and I am still learning today. Distant memories I tried to bury in the bottom of a bottle no longer haunt me.

I’m working on myself. I no longer drink, and I’m cutting down on the cigarettes. I still need a butt once in a while. I’m still a little rough around the edges and use colorful language. I still say things I know I shouldn’t say, and I say them at the wrong time. But I’m trying.

I’ve been told this process takes time. Nobody changes overnight, but Christ is working on me and I’m making progress. They tell me even Paul in the Bible struggled and sometimes did what he knew he shouldn’t. That gives me hope that I can continue to change.

One thing still bothers me, I need to find Mary. I wouldn’t be here without her, in fact I’d probably be dead by now, and I never thanked her. She was gone before I knew what had happened. Literally.

I need to say thank you for that empty envelope that was full of all hope and promise.

But I also need to know more about her as well, I need closure. There is so much mystery around her: Who was she? Why did she come into my office that night? Was it because she knew I needed a savior too? If so, how did she know? Why the empty envelope? How did she know it would entice me? Was she even real? I have so many questions about that mysterious night.

So now I am putting my investigative knowledge to work. I swore off dames all those years ago, but now I will not rest until I find Ms. Dolen. I hope you will come along for the journey…

Coming June 27th: The Dalton Files: At the Police Station