Sowing Season
Page 24
Even in his youth, he realized life had dealt him a pretty fair hand, all things considered. The people sharing his company in that den weren’t afforded the same experience. Their families had been murdered, lost, some of them detained in Unity's prisons for life. They had much more reason to be angry than he did and they had much more fuel with which to stoke that anger. They had bottomless quantities of fuel comprised of hatred, vengeance, and personal sorrow. It was like oil, black, the fuel of fossils; old dead things and broken memories, broken childhoods. They drilled into themselves, into their emotions, and stoked the fires with the hatred they excavated daily.
The clock ticked eight-twenty-nine.
"Devices are ticking their last!" Nelson shouted over everyone, raising his own speaker’s volume until the announcement all the chattering Zealots could hear it.
Stone thought of the guard, "Please God, have mercy on David. Just another man; just ignorant. Please, Christ, have mercy on him." He signed his heart with the crossing of his right hand. David was likely chatting over coffee with the other employees, having spent the majority of the night alone. Stone imagined it was his favorite time of the day, close to the end of his shift, and shared with his coworkers. He also began to think of the female guard and wondered what sort of pain she herself must have kept, looking for intimacy in a networking closet with an IT guy.
As for the doctors, though, he imagined their clawing and grabbing tools, their pills of death. Stone thought of the clinic faculty that saw nothing the least bit wrong with Unity's laws, the forced compliance of their patients. Sobbing mothers, scared fathers, the babies who would still die anyway. He knew his murder was no more justified. There wasn’t anything he could draw from, the emotions within him formed like a twister against a shack, sending its parts all across the plains of his conscience.
…
His ears listened, and he imagined a soft bang far in the distance, with the same loudness as a pen drop. The clock ticked forward and read eight-thirty.
“Detonation successful. Connection to devices lost.”
The Zealots stood and cheered. Stone sustained the faux-smile upon his face as he remained seated on the couch, watching for the headlines to change. Everyone stood waiting, eyes fixed to the screen, silent. Minutes passed and the Zealots were surprised. Eddie and Francis lost their bets; it took longer than five to ten minutes. Fifteen minutes had passed before the anchorwoman’s face finally distorted, bewildered and confused about what she read and by the news spoken through her Auris.
“Ladies and Gentlemen…we…um, there seems to have been a sort of attack!” She hadn’t delivered breaking news of this scale in the entirety of her career. "I understand you all would like some information…so would I." She stumbled over herself until more details were shared. "It appears that bombs have detonated at STORK clinics…everywhere…we aren't sure who the culprits are..." The poor anchorwoman had very little to offer her viewers, it was so early in development.
The men and Debra jumped around excitedly, hugging one another and offering words of congratulations. Jeremy brought Stone to his feet and placed his arms tightly around him like a bear, “You did an outstanding job, I’m very proud of you. You handled it really well. Glad you were there to help me!”
“No problem.”
“Debra and Nelson, great jobs you two. Man, this is wonderful,” Jeremy gushed, watching as aerial footage of flames and ambulances began to flash over the screen. He poured himself more champagne.
They watched and waited, flipped the news between stations from regional channels to local ones. The news anchors in Birmingham were sobbing, weeping over the footage they played for everyone. Woodlawn, Northside, Glen Iris, and even Mountain Brook's clinic were in ruins. The buildings were emptied of all window glass. Glass shards spewed outward into the parking lot that people walked over carelessly in the chaos. Bricks were diminished to rubble and dust, blackened and smoldering. Clouds streams and billowed from the buildings into the frosty sky above as helicopters and drones buzzed overhead. Stone looked for the guard, only to find bloodied unidentified bodies lying in the parking lot and hanging from what was left of the building's walls.
A crushing gravity crashed into Stone, heavy and dizzying, he stood and left the downstairs apartment. The noise and excitement of the others kept them unaware of his absence, as he went to reassemble his sanity over the calming smoke of a cigarette.
"What have I done?" Sirens filled the air in every direction, fire trucks, and ambulances, police cars. Everyone sped along on different courses for the same reason. “What the hell have I done?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Earlier that morning, before the sirens made the city aware of any calamity, Isaac awoke feeling fully refreshed. He gained happiness with every crunchy spoonful of cereal he consumed, fully rested and with Susan’s company. She had been working on her make-up. Her eyes deepened with eyeliner, making her green irises pop from beneath her long lashes. The eye-contact she made melted parts of his soul with each loving glance. Susan wasn’t always so sweet to him, but she was always beautiful and he never went a moment without loving her. She was in a good mood, ready to get taken care of by her doctor at the STORK clinic.
“Love you.”
“I love you too, darling,” she replied, brushing her eyelashes with mascara and curling them with her gold-toned eyelash curler.
"Seems we've received an update on our STORK case!" Isaac viewed the email within his Visum. His vision darkened when he opened the update and he began to read aloud to Susan. “Dear Mrs. and Mr. Lewis, we are pleased to inform you that you have been fully approved and qualified for your Custom STORK Child.” Susan squealed with joy over the news, as Isaac continued reading, “Fertilization should be complete within five to seven days. You will receive updates once a week on the status and health of the fetus as it grows. Be sure to give me a call if you have any questions. Sincerely, Jocelyn. P.S. Congratulations, I’m so excited for the two of you!”
“That’s amazing! Seriously? We were approved? I have to call my mother! I can’t believe it! Are you serious?” Susan threw down her various beauty tools and stood up from the oversized kitchen table.
“Hang on, Susan.” Isaac chuckled, his heart rejoiced from her reaction, “I know you’re excited, but wouldn’t you like to tell them over dinner or something? We could make a feast of it!”
She looked saddened, frustrated with his interruption. Impatience afflicted her as she began to tap it out rapidly on the tiled floor with her foot. Susan crossed her arms once she canceled the phone call, “I guess you’re right. But, would you invite your mother as well?”
“Yes?” he laughed.
“My mom has yet to forgive her. I’m hoping the news might break through the drama."
“Really? It’s been three years since that New Year’s Eve fiasco.” Isaac shook his head, and continued, “I mean, I guess we could just take her out some time, just the three of us. We could tell them separately.”
“If we do, we must tell mine first. Mother would be really pissed off if she were last to hear.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Mine’s more reasonable. Heck, she’ll just be happy about being a grandma finally.”
“Do not ruin this, Isaac.” She glared at him, her green eyes looked like heated embers.
“Sheesh, it’s a joke.”
“I just, I mean, can you believe this news? It makes no sense to me. Do you think there may have been a mistake?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s been over a month and no one came by or anything. We haven't been investigated like she said we would be. It's as if they're just handing it over to us. Doesn’t that seem a bit unusual to you?”
“You’re welcome, Isaac,” Unity whispered, “but remember, what is given can be taken away.”
“Well, maybe we just made a good impression in our first meeting. Maybe the AI investigator they talked about saw that everything checked out? I d
on’t know.”
“Yeah, I’ve just never heard of it being so simple. Hope there hasn’t been a mix-up or mistake.”
“I’m sure there hasn’t been. Jocelyn wouldn’t have emailed us. And you can give her a call if you’re really worried.”
Susan wasted no time and called the woman immediately, sharing the audio with Isaac’s Auris, and received a quick confirmation. “It’s been cleared,” the woman answered Susan’s question promptly saying, “someone very important really cares about y’all.”
“Who?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, only that they said your husband should keep up the excellent work he’s been doing.”
“Huh?” Her face squinted.
“The person who approved the request has been keeping a close eye on Isaac’s work. This person is very impressed with him and hopes he continues to do as well as he has been.”
"Oh…" Susan smiled at Isaac the same way she had so long ago when they first met. Fresh love bloomed from her face as she looked at him. Tears came to her eyes and she shook her head, "Thank you, Jocelyn. Have a wonderful day."
“You too, sweetie. Holler if y’all ever need anything.”
Susan ended the call and looked at Isaac, her make-up was only half complete with one set of lashes curled and the other straight. Her husband embraced her and gave her a hug and kiss, rubbed her back, enjoying the feel of the soft material of her nightgown over her warm skin.
“I told you I’m working hard for us,” he chuckled.
“I know, I love you. I’m sorry I ever doubted.”
“We’re going to be parents to a beautiful little girl.”
“Yes, we are. And our lives are going to change forever.” She wept tears of joy that soaked his shirt.
“Trust in me, Isaac.”
“Hey, why the tears?”
“I’m just so happy, so excited. Our girl’s going to be the best. We’ll have to decorate…and paint and I want you to move your office downstairs. The skylight in that room will be great for the baby.”
Isaac sighed, “Alright, fine.”
“We need her room to be close ours and there’s no way we’re moving the gym downstairs.”
“Okay, okay. We’ve got a few months to get all of this done. Chill.”
“I will. I’m just excited. My dreams are coming true!”
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you too. Ah, look at the time! Gotta finish getting ready. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
“Are you nervous at all?”
Susan returned to her place at the kitchen table, before her vanity mirror. “About our daughter?”
“No, I mean about today -- the appointment. Doc said it’s not going to be pretty.”
“No, just ready to get there already. Shame it doesn’t open earlier.”
“What time is our appointment?”
“Eight-thirty, Isaac. I’ve told you this a dozen times now. But, we have to be there at eight sharp to get everything in order, plus they may be able to take me back a little earlier.”
Isaac rolled his eyes. As if ten minutes will make much of a difference, he kept his thoughts to himself. We’re going to be there for hours.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, boo,” Susan teased, her gaze pierced through the eye-lash curler, “I see you there.”
“I’ll call for a cab shortly,” Isaac offered, realizing he no longer had an appetite once he returned to his bowl of cereal. Now the cornflakes were a soggy mush. "I'm sorry we're not able to go in an undercover car like you wanted."
“It’s fine, it’s a good day. I couldn’t care less at this point.” She smiled at him.
…
Isaac spent the rest of his time waiting for her on the front porch. It was a beautiful day and the sting of winter couldn't pierce his jacket. The warmth of STORK’s news comforted him, warmed his soul just enough to reduce the chill of December to nothing more than what seemed like a breeze. Isaac smiled, the first true smile that had crossed his lips in months. Susan was satisfied, Unity came through on the promises, and all seemed truly serene. The animals outside, the squirrels that sprung from tree limb to limb, filled his heart with excitement. His appreciation was childlike as he waited for Susan. All seemed beautiful and new -- as if a long night had ended and a new day dawned upon him. He took deep breaths from the frosty air and it refreshed him like menthol.
“Thank you, Unity. Bless you,” he praised.
“I expect some real results now. Remember my words; all that is given can be taken away.”
“I will do all you say. The Zealots will be destroyed.”
“Good, Isaac, good.”
“Is it possible for me to work with the others you mentioned? I can team up with them, right?”
“Of course, Isaac. All in good timing. I’ve already arranged a meeting.”
“Thank you again, Unity.”
“Your cab is here.”
Isaac stepped into his house and called out for his wife, “Susan, our ride is here!”
Once she finally gathered her things together and made her way outside, her beauty struck Isaac once again. She never failed to dress her best, even on occasions such as a doctor’s appointment at which she would surely need to remove her clothes and put on one of those unattractive gowns. She never made excuses to go out in pajamas or with her face unmade. Sometimes Isaac complained interiorly because of all the waiting it caused. He felt as if he spent the majority of his waking hours on pause for her. But on that morning, the time she took to get ready didn’t bother him at all. Her gorgeous smile magnified her beauty and she looked at him with eyes of worship, subduing any complaints he might have had.
…
The cab took them to their destination, the clinic in Mountain Brook, and dropped both of them off at the front door. The time was seven-fifty and the staff welcomed them into the clinic before the facility even officially opened.
“You two are early!” the guard greeted them from the front desk. His badge read ‘David’.
“Yeah, she insisted that we beat everyone else here.”
"Yes, today's actually going to be a pretty busy day, apparently. Lots of second appointments due and they take longer, so say the docs. Might even be a line today once the doors open."
Isaac laughed, once the doors open. “I’m sorry, y’all must hate people like us.”
“No, I could care less! Shifts ‘bout to end soon. I’ve pretty much already checked-out mentally.” The guard laughed, mostly to himself.
“Ah, you’re night shift?” Isaac asked as Susan began filling out a form beside him at the front counter.
“Yeah, and an hour of the morning shift because the day shifter has a kid and they need that time. Which is the usual shift for guards, but I tried to see if he’d take the morning shift a little early.” The guard laughed again, “But I think he just likes to sleep in, while I try to survive off of coffee.”
“I see, I see. I work for the department. I can relate.”
“Oh, yeah? You think there’s any opening there?”
“Maybe, you interested?”
“I may be,” the guard leaned forward to Isaac over the counter, “I want to do something more exciting. This place just bores the hell out of me, you know?”
“Nothing too thrilling last night?”
“Nope, nothing. Some IT guys visited. They were only here for a little while, but nothing before them and nothing after. I just…I guess I just want to work on something that better suits me. You know? Like, I ain’t old enough for this job yet. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. You can apply for sure. We’ve got some real P.O.S’s in our group. We’d be more than happy to replace them with you,” Isaac flattered the guard with a smile, but he didn’t mean any of the words as he looked over the bulbous protrusion of the guard’s gut. There wasn’t a chance he could pass the physical unless he lost forty pounds, something he doubted possible for the
man.
“Awesome! I’ll do it once I get home.”
“Sign in honey,” Susan commanded, nudging his arm with the clipboard. She had waited for him to stop talking to the man, thinking he would never finish his conversation.
Isaac began to sign and took note of the names above theirs. The signatures weren’t typical in their form, unlike most would be. Even as a child, Isaac found the world of investigation and forensics fascinating. Due to this fascination, he developed impressive skills in one of his favorite forensic sub-topics: graphology, which involves handwriting analysis. The field attracted him, not only for its novelty in a mostly paperless world, but also for its usefulness in aiding one to see behind the curtain, so to speak.
People say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but in Isaac’s opinion, handwriting -- one’s personal penmanship -- is the true window into the soul. He always believed handwriting analysis to give a clearer picture into a person’s character than the eyes because it reveals much more than things like fear or possible deception. Penmanship can reveal personalities, habits, traits, and, at times, has even revealed pseudonyms. Lies, secrets, hidden things are commonly made visible by a person’s unique pen-strokes.
“You mentioned that some IT guys visited this facility last night?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Hm.” Isaac looked closer at the signatures, “It’s probably nothing -- just unusual.”
“What do you see?”
“There were two of them?”
“Yes.”
Isaac set the clipboard down, “It’s probably nothing. Just that their names suggest that they may have been adopted or something of that nature.” Isaac wasn’t being honest with himself in thinking there wasn’t any real reason for his paranoia. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”