The Anniversary by Amy Gutman

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    tried to break the fall with her hands, but she wasn’t fast enough.
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    Her face smashed into the earth, and her mind seemed to im-14
    plode. There was a moment before the pain hit, when everything 15
    went still. Then, as if someone had hit a switch, sensation flooded 16
    her body. Tendrils of pain rushed through her. Everything seemed 17
    to blur. Her mind, her body, the sky, the earth — none of it made 18
    sense.
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    Somewhere dimly above her, she heard the sound of breathing.
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    Her nails dug into the hard dirt path as she struggled to climb 21
    to her knees. But just as she raised herself onto an elbow, a foot 22
    pressed into her back. A foot and behind it a body’s weight. She 23
    heard the cracking of bone. She flung out an arm in mute appeal, 24
    grasped at empty space. She tried to scream, but she had no breath, 25
    and her cry was a soft yelp. Then, the weight bore down on her, 26
    knees clamped around her sides. She saw a pair of heavy muscled 27
    thighs encased in black denim. She felt something around her 28
    neck, twisting slowly tighter. Fear spilled into the pain, and she 29
    couldn’t think anymore. She wanted to live, to live. Her lungs 30
    fought for air.
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    Hands rolled her roughly onto her back. She was choking and 32
    crying at once. Her eyes traveled up past the black shirtsleeves 33
    until she saw his face. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her 34
    without blinking. Even with the beard, she recognized him. She 35 S
    never forgot a face.
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    T H E A N N I V E R S A R Y
    You, she thought. Why you?
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    She really wanted to know.
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    Then the thing around her neck grew tighter, and she couldn’t 3
    breathe again. Above her the wind rustled through the trees, 4
    and she was floating toward them. An explosion of colors behind 5
    her eyes, and she thought of Dahlia Schuyler. The last thing she 6
    thought before the sky went black was, So this is how she felt.
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    h
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    He stared at her sprawled on the ground, his heart still heaving 10
    from the struggle. He was filled with a sense of exhilaration that 11
    he’d never known before.
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    Of all that is written I love only that which is written in blood . . .
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    The words of the great German philosopher bloomed red in his 14
    mind.
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    After another second or two, he reluctantly glanced at his 16
    watch. The large hand pointed to the number two, the smaller 17
    down by six. It took another moment for him to realize that it 18
    was just 6:10. Could it really have happened so quickly? It 19
    seemed impossible. With a start he wondered if his watch had 20
    stopped. What time was it really?
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    It was then that he noticed the gold watchband circling her 22
    pale wrist. With a gloved hand he turned over her arm to see the 23
    face of the watch. He caught the name Cartier on the watch’s 24
    face. Even he knew that name. It must have cost thousands —
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    five or ten grand — to the $29.95 he’d paid for his. But the time 26
    on both of their watches was the same. He found this satisfying.
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    Timex. Cartier. It didn’t matter. Time was one of the few things 28
    in life that was absolutely fair.
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    Life isn’t fair. He’d grown up hearing that. As if it were some-30
    thing you had to accept. As if you were powerless. Well, by God, 31
    he wasn’t accepting it. He was a man of action. Maybe you 32
    couldn’t change the past, but at least you could avenge it. Over 33
    the years, he’d come to conclude that people were essentially 34
    weak. They’d prefer to whine about what had happened instead S 35
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    A M Y G U T M A N
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    of doing what had to be done. They didn’t seek out opportunities, 2
    they sought out excuses. How many of them would have had the 3
    guts to do what he’d just done?
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    Can you be judge of yourself and avenger of your law?
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    Yes and yes and