by Brian Ewing
First, I lose my crepes, now I am losing Ama? He asked himself.
“He asked me to dinner last night after our debrief. Just, you know, to go over the case and stuff.”
“Are you two dating?” Sisto blatantly threw out in the open.
“What? No. I mean, no. We are just having dinner as friends. Sisto, all I have is you and Ojibwe. I don’t hang out with my day job people. The only people I interact with are on the task force. Fitz is an interesting person and he just wanted to hang out.”
“Have you hung out before on these non-dates you are describing?”
“We have had coffee, lunch, saw a movie once. We are just friends. You are acting very jealous,” Ama assessed, smirking and pointing her finger into his chest, taunting him.
Sisto tried to dodge it, but within the confines of the passenger seat, there was really nowhere to escape. As Ama’s gesture touched him, he got a second visit from The Reels. The vision was the exact same as he experienced last year when he had accidentally invaded her personal space. It was a vision of trauma and sadness and Sisto had no idea how to go about bringing it up to Ama. It was a huge source of tension and awkwardness for Sisto when trying to open up and get personal with Ama. He was embarrassed but also ashamed to peek in on one of her most personal moments.
The Reels brought Sisto into a bathroom with a flickering light. He could see through Ama’s eyes herself within the mirror. She was in a hospital gown and had the fluorescents from above intermittently revealing blood on her hands and right cheek. Sharp pains were stabbing her in the stomach, radiating into the cerebral cortex that Sisto hijacked. She was bent over the sink, rinsing cool water over her face. She stood up from her hunched over position, to reveal in the mirror a very full-term pregnancy belly. The pain shot through the memory once again, causing Ama to buckle down to the ground and shout out for a nurse to run in and help.
The vision always started at the same point and ended at the same moment. It angered Sisto at first that he was forced to see one of the worst moments of Ama’s life and wasn’t able to comfort her or console her, without admitting a breach of trust and friendship. Sisto held onto the secret for almost a year. A year of trying to forget. A year of trying to get past it. A year of trying to figure out how to tell a woman he grew close to, feelings for even, that his gift accidentally crept in on the moments before a brutal miscarriage. Sisto had not been able to find the right way to say it, nor did he have the desire to potentially have Ama look at him differently, as if he couldn’t be trusted.
“Sisto, are you okay?” Ama waved her hand across his face to break the trance.
Sisto played it off. “I am just wondering where we can go for lunch.”
CHAPTER 14
The ride following lunch to the campgrounds went with minimal interaction among the riders. Andrick was able to get lost in the herd of cycles, able to get lost in his thoughts of how he would pursue his bonus kill, ridding his life of the pest known as Mole. There were many thoughts that swam through Andrick’s head. His hope was the campground had a hiking trail or ravine that Mole may accidentally slip and crack his skull or something, allowing undesired recent attention on Andrick to disappear. A flash of Troy Boatman came and went in his mind.
Andrick had remembered riding down the exact strip of the interstate year after year, trying to slowly feed his cravings from time to time. Andrick had always approached life the same way he rode his motorcycle: Always be careful, always be confident, always cover your tracks. The years on the I-83 had given him what he needed. The Sun was out on a beautiful afternoon, cool breeze from the transition of winter weather still lingering into the current season. Andrick thought about how each year he became less and less satisfied and it was not frightening to him, but problematic. He remembered, in the beginning, he could kill someone and go a year or two before he had to need to unleash again. The frequency increased and desire rose. Andrick knew if he kept on the path he was headed, it would not be a question of if he ever got caught, but when.
There was a large sign off the interstate telling the travelers that the exit to the Sienna Grove National Park, was only three-quarters a mile ahead. Andrick regained focus as his trail of leading cycles veered into the right lane, exiting at the next opening and hooking a left. The sound of hundreds of blinkers, none in unison, overtook the sound previously held by the gusting winds of the fresh Midwest air. Andrick saw Mason two cycles in front of him, Mole to Mason’s right, and the other lackies behind them. It wasn’t until Rug and Freddy started veering left, that Andrick had noticed it was the two of them directly in front of him. He made a note to himself to try and refrain from zoning out or driving on autopilot too long and letting his mind run freely. After exiting the interstate, the flock of riders continued North another five minutes before halting. Whoever had set up the reservation to have the event pitstop at the campgrounds, must have coordinated with their contact.
Less than ten minutes later, a movement started again, and Andrick and his new squad were escorted along with everyone else to designated reserved spots. Going no faster than a bicycle, the uncountable engines purred gently as the event infiltrated the park. To his left, Andrick saw some news trucks set up to interview the people running the event. Andrick made a note to ensure he was not captured on film in any capacity, avoiding that area of bikers that had started setting up camp in that region. Luckily, Mason appreciated the ability to have private conversations and went to the reserved spot that was furthest North of the park, equivalent to taking the back seats on the school bus.
Andrick parked his Harley next to Mason’s and turned off the engine.
“Freddy, that perch over there.” Mason pointed to an elevated patch outside the general firepit area, “Let’s get our team setup there.”
Freddy took his sleeping bag and camping tent, along with Mason’s gear, and started heading to the outskirts area as Mason instructed.
“You are staying with us,” Mason directed Andrick, no room for debate.
Andrick simply nodded his appreciation of being included. He grabbed his sleeping bag and tent from the back of his bike and started to follow when he felt a direct shove come from his right. Mole had stepped in front with a grim, ingenuine smile.
“Sorry about that, Andrick. I didn’t see you there. I am so happy you are staying with us tonight. I feel like there is so little we know about you. Can’t wait to hear all about your interesting life.”
The unshaven man with his matted, greasy hair couldn’t hold up his front longer than that brief statement, immediately losing his smile and resuming his signature glare at Andrick. Andrick always appreciated the hunt, as much as the kill. Andrick just smiled back at the man’s childish act and empty threat.
“Mole, I literally couldn’t be happier to share my stories with you. It will be a hell of a night.”
CHAPTER 15
Sisto got a call while he was being escorted in the luxury vehicle, following a hearty lunch. Being that Sisto’s phone would connect to the Bluetooth in Ama’s car first, the call came in over the premium speakers, abruptly cutting off a live rendition of Eric Clapton’s Layla. Annoyance filled Ama’s eyes as she was reminded, thrown in her face even, that Sisto had somehow overtaken her Lexus NX. The caller ID showed up on the dashboard to reveal the perpetrator of interrupting the classic strings from the Fender guitar was none other than Reese Culpepper. It was Ama’s turn to twinge in discomfort.
“You two dating now?” She joked.
“I’d rather date Edna from processing, than lay a finger on Bell, Jr.”
“Edna is in her seventies.”
“Oh good, you know her. So, you understand how large my distaste for Culpepper is then.”
Ama smiled and answered the phone through the dial on her steering wheel.
“Tom Sisto’s answering service. This is Ama, how may I direct your call?”
The phone lay silent a moment, as Culpepper was probably thrown off guard.
&nb
sp; Clearing her throat, ‘Uh, Ama this is Officer Culpepper.”
“Reese, we can see you on the caller ID,” Ama said.
Another silence, which both Ama and Sisto could insinuate had been due to the dismay that her title of Officer had been stripped from her when being addressed.
“Culpepper, it’s my day off. Why are you calling us?” Sisto interjecting, breaking the awkward silence.
“Boss wants you to stop by the station tonight for an update.”
“Why doesn’t Boss just call me himself for an update?”
“Sisto, don’t give me any shit. He wanted to go over stuff in person. You want me to tell him you said he can drive to your apartment because you don’t want to meet up?”
It was Sisto’s turn to sit in silence a moment.
“I am doing errands. Tell Sir Lordship I will text him when I am on the way. Won’t be until six or seven.”
“I’m not your secretary, Sisto.”
“No, you’re Bell’s. Deliver the message.”
Ama ended the call on Sisto’s behalf before Culpepper could reply with a snide comeback.
“That bitch is on my last nerve,” Ama admitted.
Sisto chuckled.
“I am serious. It’s weird how she takes brown-nosing to the next level.”
“Agreed,” Sisto stated. “So, we got my gear for this operation. Got breakfast, got lunch…what are we missing?”
“I don’t know, maybe we should look for a place that will give you a crash course in riding a motorcycle, just in case?”
The thought never crossed Sisto’s mind and for that, he was once again impressed by Ama’s resolve.
“Nah, I have my brace and sling. It will be a good enough alibi.”
“I get the brace, but why the sling?”
“I don’t want to go in there all hot, people trying to fist bump or shake my hand. Do you know what kind of degeneracy I would fall victim to if that happened? As it is, I will no doubt have many of those mongoloids shoulder-fuck me into a dark recess of their memory, courtesy of The Reels, and be traumatized for life.”
“You haven’t brought up The Reels lately, aside from our debrief. You think your gift is fading?”
“If it is, it couldn’t come quick enough.”
“Sisto, people would love to have an insight like you have.”
“What, you mean everyone is itching to get the taste of Italian dressing coat their throat when someone around them starts to panic? Or when you are having sex and your excitement and adrenaline throws the concoction of grape and steamed asparagus in your face? Or how about—”
“Okay, okay.” Ama cut off a signature Sisto rant. “There is a downside, I get that. But it is an incredible gift. You have to focus on that.”
Sisto rolled his eyes. “So, you sure you and Fitz aren’t dating?”
“We aren’t dating, but what would it matter if we were?”
Sisto chose his words carefully. “I don’t want turmoil within the team is all. I don’t think it would be good if you two got together and something happened. One of you would end up leaving and we would have to replace one of you and—”
“And you don’t like change?” The corner of her lips asked while simultaneously going into a smile.
“Hey, I am fine with change. I am just really enjoying the vibe from our current team.”
“Uh-huh,” Ama said, knowing she had him backed in a corner.
Ama was one of those special people that Sisto didn’t want to lose, to anyone. She once dated some older guy, older than him at least and she said he looked like a banker with graying hair. He had joked once that she shouldn’t be messing around with people like that and should look closer to home, insinuating himself. She hadn’t really responded to it one way or the other, so he never brought it up again. Plus, she was not a rebound girl.
He didn’t want to rush something with her as he was just finally getting over Caden. He realized he would always have a place in his heart for Camille Caden, but people die. They come into your life; they leave your life. It’s the way of the world. Sisto was starting to accept that and felt he was getting closer to admitting his feelings to Ama but wanted to feel it out a bit more. He didn’t know he would have to go up against someone like Fitz. The thought of fighting over Ama’s affection between him and someone that walked off the set of Wild Hogs instantly annoyed him.
“Okay, so it’s two-thirty now. We got a few hours before my meeting with Winter. What are we doing? I am sick of driving around aimlessly.”
Her comment cut through Sisto’s intricate analysis of modern love.
“You want to go to the zoo?”
“What?!” Ama asked confused. “Are you serious? That came way out from left field.”
“I have been wanting to go. Did I ever tell you back when I was a bartender, I always said my dream job would be working at a zoo?”
Ama gave him a signature look of reservation. “Are you serious? You wanted to be an Anthrozoologist or a Mammalogist?”
“I don’t know what either of those words mean,” Sisto stared at her blankly. “I always said if money weren’t a factor, I would love to put in my headphones and just walk around feeding the animals, cleaning shit out of their cages, that type of stuff. That’s the life.”
“Now, you have more money than God and you interject yourself in dangerous situations, like the one you’re entering tomorrow.”
Sisto smirked at the correlation he never put together. “Young and naïve, I guess.”
Forty minutes later, just North of the Saratoga City Science Center, was the SCWZ: Saratoga City Wildlife Zoo. It was starting to wind down, as it only took them ten minutes to find a spot instead of the normal twenty. Sisto paid their admission and he and Ama started along the outer ring of the path, working their way through the exotic Parrots, over to the Meerkats and Porcupines. After an hour they took a break by the Orangutan section and leaned over, perched against the manufactured sanctuary.
“So, you say Ojibwe gambles with the best of them?” Sisto asked, trying to comprehend what he was just told.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. Slots and Roulette.”
“I love Roulette. I will have to take her out on a night on the town one of these days.”
Ama gave Sisto a warm smile, which caused a bag of emotions on his end. Sisto wanted to pursue her but wanted to be fair to her as well. He lost too many people over the last year and couldn’t risk losing Ama from jumping into something he couldn’t handle.
“Tell me something interesting about you, Ama?”
The question threw Ama off guard.
“What?”
“We have known each other for almost eight years, been actual friends for almost a year now. I don’t really know much about you other than you are Native American and—”
“Sisto, I may be an eighth Native American. That’s primarily Ojibwe’s culture and she shared that with me while growing up, which I loved. I am Spanish and Lebanese primarily and grew up in California.”
Sisto, feeling his white ignorance rising, “Oh, well, see, I just learned something new.”
“What about you? Tell me something I don’t know about you, Tom Sisto.”
Thinking of anything she probably hasn’t been able to read off his face, or experienced while interacting over the last year. “My favorite movie is—”
“The Departed.”
“Yeah, I guess you would know that. Did you know my favorite genre of movies though is—”
“Underwater creature features? Yes, I knew this about you.”
Defensively, Sisto replied, “Hey, if you don’t like Deepstar Six, Leviathan or Deep Rising, I don’t even want to know you.”
They both laughed and Sisto looked at the time on his phone.
“What time do you have plans with Opie?”
Ama knew the reference was to Sons of Anarchy, as Sisto made her watch the season three finale with him a few months back. Opie had been a brut force on the show
and had a similar lumberjack beard as Fitz Ackerman.
“Eight-thirty.”
“Isn’t that a little late for Fitz to redeem his early bird discount?”
“You talk about him like he is older than Ojibwe. You realize he is only a few years older than you, right?”
“Fuck me, are you serious?”
“Fitz likes you, Sisto. He knows about the stories and thinks you are a great person and just wants to be your friend. He has done a lot of bad things and surrounding himself by you and helping out the task force, is his way of finding redemption.”
“He wants to be your friend,” Sisto retorted. “More than friends, it seems.”
Ama smiled and her jaw opened a bit, “Sisto, do I detect jealousy?”
She playfully smacked his arm.
“You can do what you want. I am just saying what I see.”
“Uh-huh,” Ama answered. She checked her smartwatch and noticed the time now. “Should we head back to Corden and drop off your gear, or do we have any other stops to make?”
“No, we should be good. I may go up to Flashy Jack’s later.”
“With whom?” Ama projecting false outrage. “That’s our thinking spot!”
“I told Mitchell and Wallace I would meet up for a drink. They wanted to go to Chrome Canyon, but those people are too busy fucking each other in the pantry to give any good service.”
Ama looked confused at the statement but rolled it off as a Sisto-ism and let it go.
The last time Sisto went there, a barely legal hostess kept eye-fucking him, while the waiter was attempting to do the same to Caden. They had gone there during the Vinnova case to go over theories and forensics and have a bite of dinner, only to leave with Sisto feeling like he attended a mental orgy.
“That sounds fun. Maybe Fitz and I will meet up after dinner if that’s alright?”
“I’ll text you when I get there.”
The next hour, due to rush hour, left Ama and Sisto listening to a playlist that Ama re-iterated as chaotic. They got less serious and more fun, the usual tempo for their friendship, and just relaxed until they pulled into the gated parking lot outside the Corden Palisades Apartments. Sisto started walking out of the gated lot when he noticed something. The beat-up ’93 Honda, Pearl, as he lovingly named her, had some extra spunk to her. The car no longer had a sheet of dust layering it. Holding his bag of thrift good findings, he moved in for further inspection.