by Yuriko Hime
She gripped her jeans. "What's the next goal of the experiment?" she said in a smaller voice.
"To discover if we can scare the lesbian away from you," I said. "You've mentioned before that most LGBT hide what they are from their peers because of fear of being judged. Looking more into that, I discovered that many lesbians are being forced from their home because of the parents themselves. A mother would say, 'if you don't stop being lesbian, I will let you live in the streets' to her child. They think they can frighten their kids enough so that homosexuality can be removed. Did the experiment disprove that theory? By putting you in a false dangerous circumstance, were you convinced that homosexuality was bad?"
She shook her head. "You can never scare this out of me. This is not a choice. It's my reality."
The debriefing continued for another hour. I explained that the ECT device we brought was broken, a props, thus we could never really turn it on if we tried. Strapping her was part of the fear factor, and it was done so she wouldn't trash around, being a danger to herself. It was a successful experiment, and knowing that this book was written long after the trials were conducted, I would confidently say that she wasn't traumatized by the experience. No dreams of being strapped or harmed ever. We had debriefed her as best as we could.
It was good to know that Nicky had also joined an organization for the LGBT cause. And. . . A few months after we've met, she got herself a girlfriend, attributing her newfound confidence to the experiment. "We only live once," she said. "Make the best out of it."
Back to the present, while we were stacking the equipments in a truck to conclude everything, Lulu came to me, frown on her face. "I feel wrong with all of this," she said. "I want you to know that this won't happen again."
I jumped from the truck. "I know," I confessed.
"You do?" She sounded like she couldn't believe that I was agreeing with her.
"Of course. I feel awful for using Nicky even if she wasn't harmed, even if she gave her consent. I had the best intention, but sometimes it doesn't justify things. I'll make sure to stick to investigations from now on."
"You'll still continue the study then?"
"This is everything to me, Lu. Stopping is to lose, and I hate losing to anything. Besides, it will help people, regardless of what they think of me."
Lulu flicked my forehead with her fingers. Warmth spread on the spot, reminding me that she would always be there to try and get some sense in my skull. "Okay, but you need to tone down," she said. "Get a mini vacation, or better yet, a relationship. Be with someone who can control you because I sure as heck have a hard time doing so. It will be fun to have another member of the gang aside from us and Casper, don't you think?"
I nodded. "Come on, Lu. We're treating Nicky and the doctor to a huge dinner. I owe them that and any present they want." I touched the area where my tattoo was when we were headed back to the warehouse. It was strange. It felt out of place. But why did I suddenly think of Lynx?
Chapter 20
It was eight-thirty in the morning when I stood on the hallway between my room and Lulu's. She could still be asleep. I headed to the stairs, stopped, my foot hovering on the first step. What if she was already awake and wanted coffee? Going back to her door, I pressed my ear on the wood, listening for signs of activity. It was incredibly quiet inside.
The door swung forward, catching me by surprise. I seized the knob mid-fall and straightened, heart hammering, embarrassed by being found. "You could have knocked," Lulu said, one hand on the handle, smirking. "I'm not even going to ask. Come in."
"I thought you're still dreaming." I felt it safest to sit on the bed as it was the only spot that didn't contain her weird things. The rest, like her bookshelf, desk, chairs, and a big space on the floor were full. "What are you up to?" I asked.
"Considering I've woken an hour ago, I've only had time to pee once, check my social media accounts, and brush my teeth. But thank you for asking. That was thoughtful of you." She laughed. I grabbed the nearest thing on the bed, a pink Victoria's Secret plush dog, and threw it her way to get even. The stuffed toy skidded to a stop on her feet. "Something on your mind? You don't look quite yourself." Lulu gestured to my clothes, forcing me to look down. My fluffy slippers were miswore, my green shirt was inside out, and a glance at the mirror on the wall told me that there was dry toothpaste stuck on the corner of my mouth.
I looked away and wiped. "I was in a hurry. Research and stuff awaits."
"Don't kid yourself," she said. "Your website is doing great. I checked it last night. The hits are fairly high. The research is coming together too." She picked up the dog and placed it on her book tower. "Do you need me to talk to Casper for you? I'll call him even if I don't want to hear his voice if it means that you'll wear your bunny slippers right again." She puckered her lips to tease me.
"Real mature right there," I said. "Look who's still playing with dolls."
"Voodoo dolls are not for kids."
I kicked my slippers off and placed my feet on the bed. "I was talking about the plush dog. And just so you know, I don't want you to call Casper. He'll overreact, come here, and whoop my ass." That's why we didn't tell him about the experiment either. Sorry, bro.
"Then call Lynx," she said. "You've been obsessed with her lately." I opened my mouth to argue. "Zip it, Scottie. I'm just saying that maybe you're feeling anxious because she hasn't kept her end of the bargain. If you're worried about finding her since she hasn't been to the Midnight Cafe, you can take the matter in your own hands. When did anything ever stop you?" Her advice was like rain washing away the dirt of my muddled thoughts. Oh my gosh. She was right. I rolled off the bed, stood, kissed her on the cheek. "Someone's in a better mood," she said.
I wore my bunny slippers, the right way. "Someone's got an idea," I said.
Using GPS and online maps weren't fruitful when you had no clue what to look for. I was talking about the tattoo shop that Lynx was seen in last. If memory served me well, the parlor didn't had a name inside, nor were there any signs on the door or the alley near it. After eating breakfast, bathing, and telling Lulu I'd go for a walk, I set on backtracking my footsteps so I might hopefully end up on the tattoo shop.
Why didn't I just call Lynx? I've tried, believe me. No answer. Tracing her mobile would be me breaking the law, and after the stint of an experiment we did with Nicky, I wasn't too enthusiastic about it. If I were to find Lynx, I'd do it the old fashioned way- sleuthing and elbow grease.
We walked on the street from grandma's hotel didn't we? I followed the pattern. Then, we took a right turn to an alley. Off to the alley I went. It was easy. No sweat. Sleuthing on.
Later, after taking too many turns and second guessing a couple of others, I was painfully reminded of why I gave up keeping track of our location when I was with Lynx that day. It was hard to voice out, but I was, "Lost. I'm freaking lost," I said. "I can't believe this." On top of that, my tattoo itched. "Curse you Lynx! This is all your fault." A backdoor opened just then to give way for an old man taking out the trash. Not the best person to ask, but he would do. "Excuse me sir." I went to him. "Can I have a second?"
He wiped his hand on an orange towel. "What is it?" he said. I tried not to let his red and white polka dot shirt and sandals distract me.
"I'm looking for," Atlantis. Say it. Say it Scotland. Better not. "A tattoo parlor," I said. "I think it's near here, but I'm not sure. A couple of days ago, a friend of mine took me there. We went down the stairs, she got me a tatt, and I want to go back for aftercare. I'd really appreciate it if you can kindly show me the way."
The black trash bag fell to his side, neglected, as he peered at me closely. It could be the trash, but he smelled fishy too. "You're one of them druggies," he said with a shake of his head. "That's a downward spiral you're taking, girlie. There's no recovery for this once you hit rock bottom. I've seen what it does to people. It destroys lives." He waved me away. "Go home and reevaluate yourself. You seem like a nice lady."
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br /> I covered my mouth with a hand, shocked. "Excuse me?" I said. "I'm not a drug user." What was wrong with him?
He twiddled his thumbs. "Meh. Shifty eyes, forgetfulness, tattooing," he said. "Sounds like a junkie to me. Take your business elsewhere, Delilah. I ain't telling you nothing."
"Learn to use proper grammar before you insult a person," I retaliated. "And just because you have a tattoo doesn't mean you're a bad person or takes drugs. What kind of rock are you living on?" The backdoor slammed on my face. "Great. Just great. How can I find her now?"
The second person I asked, a guy on a bike whose ear and eyebrows were heavy with piercing, knew one too many tattoo parlors. "There's one on the main street, then down the road a few blocks from here," he said. "But none of them fits your description. They're pretty straightforward. No stairs." He looked me up and down and smiled. "We can discover it together if you want. I can make time for you." Walking fast and far away from him saved me from the trouble of another argument.
The third person I encountered was a woman in her 30's, wearing a simple blue dress and was watering a bonsai plant outside her place. "Do you need anything?" she said, putting her watering can down. "You've been staring at me for five minutes straight. I thought I might owe you money or something."
Was I? She must think I was a creep. "Sorry about that," I said as I came closer. "Do you mind if I ask. . ." I went to the lengthy detail of the tattoo parlor and how I wanted to go back.
"I know where it is," she said after I explained. A pleasant warmth radiated from her and enveloped me with assurance. She wasn't crazy like the others. "Got mine done at the same place." She pointed to her butt. "It's on my left cheek, so I can't really show it. The parlor is hard to find because they operate by word of mouth. I heard the owner was a retired mob member. Who knows? I'll draw you a sketch." She went inside to grab a pen and paper. Lynx seemed to know a lot about secret places. Which meant what exactly? She was a secret agent? The woman was back before I could dwell deep into it. "There you go," she said. "Remember to tell Giovanni I said hi."
I folded the paper she gave and tucked it in my back pocket. "Thank you, and I will."
With her sketch and my renewed vigor, I got to the parlor in no time. It was the same place. Finally! Seconds after knocking on the door, I heard the latch open, the chain sliding into place. A crack appeared. "Who is it?" a throaty voice of a woman asked from inside.
"I need access to the—" The door banged shut. Second time someone did that to me today. Did they know who they were refusing? A Roth, that's who. I was richer than them combined. I could buy this entire compound if I wanted to. I could ruin their lives. Woah, stop right there. Despite what they were saying in the media, or their silly conspiracy theories, my family and I weren't like that. Chill. I brought my fist to the door and knocked again. "Someone wanted to say hi to Giovanni," I said to the crack. It was the magic word. The chain was unlocked, the door was pulled open, and I was let in without further interrogation.
Two staff were present downstairs unlike the first time we've been. A man and a woman wearing all black and had spiky hair, but otherwise looked friendly, nodded to me. "Is Lynx here?" I said without wasting another second. "Oh and Giovanni sent me. He was a nice guy."
The woman laughed at my greeting. She had this annoying snort that was best to be ignored. "That's terrific," she said. "Giovanni died ten years ago. Tell me again how his ghost sent you?" Giovanni was a code for letting people in, apparently. I've got much to know, but I was also a fast learner. My experience said that it was better not to argue anymore. Somewhere in the Cambodian mountains, the monk would be smiling because I was following his teachings.
The man left his chair to stand next to the woman. "I haven't heard of anyone named Lynx," he said. "Give me a description. He could be a temporary employee."
"Lynx is a she," I said. How should I describe her? I conjured a mental image. "She's taller than me, but not that much. Her hair cascades in waves, somewhere between gold and copper. It's like a painting, actually, except she's real." Times like this, she could very well be my imagination. My stomach fluttered. At this point, it didn't matter what she looked like physically, though she was a head turner. Lynx hit people where it mattered, on the brain. She was the biggest mind fuck I've encountered. "Her eyes are the sea and the forest," I finished, for the sake of saying it to them.
"Blue green," the man said. "Sounds like a beautiful lady. It would be lovely to have her in the team, but we haven't seen anyone matching that description. We'd know. We process everything around here, from payment to employment. Giovanni tells us so." His laugh echoed in the small parlor. I gauged if they were lying or not. People usually gave themselves away through body language. Annoying as it was, they weren't. "Let me escort you back to the door, miss. You don't want to bump into Giovanni alone," he said. One more mention of that and I'd punch his nose. No joke. The Cambodian monk would be disappointed.
My options for finding Lynx were shortlisted to the spa, the movie house, and the restaurant. One of their staff could have known where she was. Fishing my cellphone, I searched for their corresponding numbers and called them one by one.
Fifteen minutes later, my mood has shifted from enthusiasm to defeat. I was ready to throw the towel on the ground. None of the people I talked to knew about Lynx's whereabouts or who she was. Each of them guessed that she was a temporary worker, and since they couldn't give information about previous employees, they were of no help.
I paced the alley restlessly. This couldn't be the end. How could someone not leave an identity behind? She had no social media, records, things that people usually had. Lynx had changed in my head from being a stalker, to being employed by my father's competition, to a secret service agent, all in one day. A yellow taxi passed by. Lady luck, you couldn't have been more of a genius.
"Hi Casper," I said on the phone a few moments later.
"Hey, sis. Long time no talk," he said. It was so good to hear his voice. Casper had a way of making me feel happy. I should invite him again soon, after I was done getting rid of his girlfriend. One step at a time.
"Can you find something for me? I think Lulu is out of the house, and I'm too tired to get the information. I was wondering if you can check a plate number and what company the vehicle is registered to. Someone rear-ended my car the other day. No big deal, really. Insurance will pay for it, but I want to make sure the taxi driver is alright."
"That's noble of you," he said, pleased. "Normally you'd give them a piece of your mind, especially if it's their fault. Give me five minutes. I'll call you back with the details."
After five minutes has passed, I answered his call on the first ring. Casper had given me enough time to rest while doing his own sleuthing. "Got it," he said. "It's not listed under a company like I originally assumed, but under a school. A university to be specific, and you can guess what it is." My heart pumped double time. The coincidence was disturbing. "Yeah, go to the school you're attending in September, and maybe you'll see the vehicle there." No. Freaking. Way.
"Thanks," I said to Casper. "You've been a big help."
"Anytime. Just don't get yourself in trouble." The line beeped and he was gone.
I haven't been to the university since getting enrolled, but it was still majestic as I remembered, like the castles in England with so much history beyond its walls. Since summer was in its prime, there weren't hundreds of students going to and fro, but only a handful that went on their everyday business. I was lead by a guard to another building after asking for directions to the offices. A conservatively dressed woman with shoulder-length blonde tresses was singularly present there, typing behind her desk. My detective mode kicked in.
"Hi, I need assistance with something," I said. One glance at my convincingly innocent face was all it took to steal her attention. "There's a vehicle I want to track. They informed me that it's listed under the school."
She gave me a practiced smile, the type she must have
used to dozens for rejection. "As much as I want to help you, it's against the policy to give that kind of information," she said.
I nodded. "I understand that, of course, but surely you won't be breaking rules if you only confirm that it's listed in your records. A simple yes or no would do. Or. . ." I mustered frustration on my face. "My lawyers can handle it themselves. I mean, the vehicle did damage my car the other day, but the driver escaped without paying for anything. If I confirm that it's from here, I won't take a legal action because this is a reputable place. We don't want anything bad leaking out."
Her shoulders dropped. Same, woman, same. I was tired too. "Just a yes or no," she said, typing on her computer. The things you could get from an overworked human. I should have done this from the start to track Lynx. "What's the plate number?" she asked. I gave her the digits. The woman stared at the screen before nodding. "Yes, we have that. Don't ask more questions. I'll lose my job if I answer."
Shady. Shady indeed. "Thank you so much," I said. "Now I can sleep in peace, knowing I don't have to sue anyone." I waved at her and turned on my heels.
Once she wasn't looking, I ducked to the corner, took out my phone, and dialed. "Lulu? Call the university's information office and tell whoever will answer the following. No, I'm not stealing anything. Just do it. This is about Lynx." I gave Lulu the instructions, anticipation in my bones.
Half a minute after I called her, the woman stormed past my hiding place, brows furrowed and upset. She didn't even notice me. Classic. I sauntered confidently to her computer and clicked the mouse. In her hurry to leave, she left everything unchecked. I'd be long gone by the time she was back. It wasn't really breaking the law. Just a little.
The information I wanted was still on a tab on her desktop. She hadn't closed it yet. I grinned devilishly. Lynx Phoenix, huh? She was mine.