Done Rubbed Out

by Jeffery Craig

  “Sure. My schedule’s pretty flexible right now until…until we’re able to open up again.” He looked toward his spa and then back to the Detectives, wiping a small rivulet of water off his face. “Uh! I really should head to the shower and wash off all this sweat. I probably smell disgusting. See you at three.” He jogged back across the street toward his apartment. He stopped as Madame Zhou exited her shop. They talked for a minute and Toby pointed them out from across the street before heading up the stairwell. Madame Zhou placed her palm above her eyes to protect them from sunlight and motioned for them to come over.

  “We’ve already seen the wizard so we might as well go talk to the witch,” Jackson grumbled.

  She jabbed him with her elbow. “Come on, Jackson. Don’t be a cowardly lion.”

  “Whatever you say, Dorothy.”

  They crossed the street, watching for any traffic. Zhou Li greeted them a cheery “Good morning Detectives! I was wondering if you’ve already had lunch.”

  “No, we haven’t Madame Zhou.” Reightman’s stomach growled at the idea of food, and she tried to ignore it. “But we can’t stop just yet. We’ve really got a lot on our plates today, and we need to get in a couple more interviews before we head back to the station.”

  “It is important to take regular sustenance, Detective Reightman. It helps to properly regulate the body. Joining me will allow you both to have a decent lunch, and to talk to another business owner.”

  Reightman’s stomach growled again, signaling its agreement. “Where were you planning to eat, Madame?”

  “Over across the street, of course.” She pointed toward Earth Fruits Café. “They serve excellent food, and I think it’s always a good idea to support the neighborhood businesses.”

  After sharing a questioning look with his partner, Jackson lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, resigned to his fate. Reightman looked at her watch and decided it couldn’t hurt to indulge her. “I suppose that would be fine. After all, we have to eat sometime.”

  “Good. Kindly lend me your arm, Detective Jackson. I could use the extra assurance of a strong man’s arm. I wouldn’t want to fall.” Reightman suppressed an involuntary grin. She couldn’t decide which she was enjoying more; Zhou Li’s charming flirting or Jackson’s grave, expressionless courtesy as he offered his arm and slowly escorted the old lady to the corner and then across the street. “It’s kind of cute,” Reightman decided as she trailed slightly behind. Once they arrived at the eatery of choice, Jackson escorted Zhou Li inside while Reightman held the door for them.

  “Good day, my dear,” Madame greeted the young woman who met them inside the door. “There will be three of us for lunch. A booth would be nice if there’s one available.”

  “There’s one open over by the wall. It’s a little close to the TV, but it’s the only one free right now.”

  “That will be acceptable,” the old lady replied. They made their way to the booth via a somewhat circuitous path between several filled tables. Once seated, Zhou Li smiled at them across the booth. “Now isn’t this nice?”

  They both agreed that it was, as they looked around the space.

  The Earth Fruits Café was reasonably sized, with several paper covered tables set at angles in the center and a handful of booths lined up against one wall. On each of the tables was an antique glass cola bottle with a few wild flowers poked into its neck. Every table had the expected assortment of salt, pepper, and varieties of hot sauce, placed beside small metal racks holding packets of raw, unrefined sugar. A door led somewhere to the back; presumably the kitchen. There was a small cooler filled with an assortment of unfamiliar beverages and a couple of cake stands filled with pastries and cookies. A wide, flat-screened television hung from a bracket high on the wall to the left of the booth, positioned so that everyone could see it easily. The cash register was positioned near the door on a counter displaying a few items for sale. The décor was enhanced by vintage protest signs and an assortment of old, rusted farm implements.

  The TV was tuned to Channel 7’s local midday feature, Lunch with Lydia Larson. The ‘news-ertainment’ show, a catchy phrase coined by Lydia herself, offered blended coverage on current fashion trends, local events of importance, a short weather update, and political commentary. Reightman thought it was a random collection of crap, but it was popular with area viewers, and both the show’s hostess and lead commentator had inexplicitly received a variety of broadcast awards over the last few years. At least the volume was turned down.

  After a short wait, a new server stepped up to their booth and asked, in a bored voice, “What can I get you to drink?” while passing around menus. Jackson asked for an iced tea, while Reightman and Zhou Li both requested mugs of hot water with accompanying glasses of ice water.

  “What kind of tea do you want?” the server asked Jackson. She tapped her sock and sandal covered foot impatiently.

  He looked confused since no one ordered anything but sweet tea around here. “What kind do you have?”

  The girl pointed to the chalkboard hanging near the television. The entire thing was covered in tea listings and was decorated in colored chalk-drawn flowers. The flower faces were accentuated with small round eyes and big curvy smiles.

  “Uh…just regular tea I guess.”

  The server wrote something on a pad of paper and then crammed it down into her apron pocket. “I’ll bring the drinks in a minute and then I’ll take your food orders.”

  “Lindsey is such an interesting individual,” offered Madame Zhou as she arranged her cutlery to her satisfaction.

  “Is Lindsey the owner?”

  “No, Detective Jackson. Lindsey is our server. I think she spells it with an ‘i’ at the end.” Reightman and Jackson digested that piece of information. “The owner’s name is Bernice Williams. She has been very successful with this place. I believe she learned to cook while she was serving in the Army.”

  Lindsey, who Sam and Melba now knew was ‘Lindsi,’ arrived back at the table carrying a tray with their drinks. “Water, hot water, water, hot water, and one regular tea,” she announced, placing the drinks in their respective places. Zhou Li and Melba both retrieved tea packets from their bags and placed them in their mugs of hot water. Zhou Li nodded approvingly across the table to Melba.

  ”I’ll take your food order now,” Lindsi announced tonelessly.

  Zhou Li looked at the server and politely ordered. “I’ll have today’s special, dear.”

  “And for you, sir?”

  Jackson had been hurriedly scanning the menu. “I don’t see anything with meat.”

  Lindsi quickly educated him in a disapproving voice. “We don’t serve meat or any animal products. They are bad for you. They sit in your gut and rot for days after eating them. We only serve dishes prepared with the freshest fruits and vegetables, harvested sustainably from the earth. We do not serve anything that was living, that will live, or that comes from the living.”

  “Aren’t fruits and vegetable living?”

  Lindsi offered him a disgusted sneer. “No. Animals live. Fruits and vegetables grow.”

  Jackson was thoroughly perplexed now.

  “Detective Jackson, perhaps I can help?” Zhou Li offered.” Will you allow me to order for you?”

  He gave her a hesitant, “Okay.”

  “Lindsi, dear, this gentleman will have the eggplant filet, a side of crispy kale chips and, hmmm….yes, an order of the delightful carrot slaw Bernice prepares.”

  Reightman noticed Jackson’s eyes were looking kind of wild.

  “And for you, ma’am?” Lindsi inquired while raising a single eyebrow and showing off the bright blue piercing that decorated the upper portion of her face.

  Reightman closed her menu. “I’ll have the special as well.”

  Lindsi dutifully scribbled some more on her pad and then tucked it into the front of her canvas apron. As the girl turned, Reightman noticed the back of her t-shirt was imprinted with the slogan, “Join the Feral Cat
Project.” She decided not to ask. They all made small talk, commenting on the heat and offering their opinions about the planned Labor Day festivities, until Lindsi arrived with the food.

  “Two daily specials and one eggplant filet with Kale chips and carrot slaw,” she announced, placing down the food. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “I don’t think so, dear,” replied Zhou Li, eying her food appreciatively through her thick lensed eyewear. “But, could you please ask Bernice if she would spare us a moment when she has time?”

  Lindsi thought it over completely before committing herself. “I can do that,” she eventually decided, and walked away leaving them to enjoy their meals.

  Reightman looked down at her food. There was a bowl of some sort of cool, green soup garnished with what looked like toasted seeds and a single slice of cucumber with dill. To the side of the bowl was a large slice of hearty multi-grained bread with a pale yellow spread. She ventured a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed in surprise.

  Zhou Li smiled up from her own serving and nodded. “Bernice is really very talented. She is always creating interesting and delicious things. You should taste her chickpea juice meringue. How is your food, Detective Jackson?”

  He was staring down at his order, exploring it with a fork. “There are yellow raisins in the slaw.”

  “Why, yes, there are!” Zhou was delighted with his discovery. “Isn’t that a nice touch?”

  Reightman watched out of the corner of her eye as Jackson took a hesitant forkful of his meal. He carefully placed it in his mouth and closed his eyes. He chewed slowly, waiting to see if anything chewed back, and then opened his eyes and took another bite. Pretty soon he was eating at a good pace, although he still had a slightly doubtful expression on his face. Conversation lagged as they enjoyed the food. Before they had finished, a woman, who Reightman assumed was the owner, came to their table.

  “How’s the food?” the sturdy woman asked.

  “It is wonderful as always, Bernice. You do such marvelous things with garden vegetables.”

  “Thanks, Madame Zhou.” The woman was obviously pleased at the compliment. “If you like that, you should see what I can do with an apricot and a few kumquats.” She pulled an empty chair over from another table and took a seat. “Lindsi said you wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. Thank you for making time – I know you’re busy. You must be pleased with the success of this place.”

  “I am,” Bernice replied as she bent down to retie the laces of her steel toed boot. “Business has been pretty good.”

  “I am delighted for you, Bernice. Allow me to make introductions if you will. This, is Detective Reightman,” she indicated Melba, “and this, is Detective Jackson. They’re both with the City Police Department. Detectives, allow me to introduce Bernice Williams, the proprietress and creator of these wonderful meals.” Each nodded to the other, and Reightman wiped her hands on a napkin and shook hands with Bernice. Zhou continued, “They were hoping to ask you a few questions about the days immediately preceding the horrible murder at the spa.”

  “Poor Toby. I really feel for him. He must be going through a terrible time.” Bernice replied, obviously sad for the young business owner from the neighborhood. “I’m happy to answer any questions I can, Detectives.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Williams.” Reightman hesitated a second to allow for any other preferred forms of address to be offered. When none were forthcoming, she continued. “Can you tell us if you’ve noticed anything unusual or out of the ordinary over the last couple of weeks? “

  “Like what?”

  “Like any strange people hanging around the area, or things that struck you as odd, especially in the evening hours.”

  Bernice gave a little chuckle. “There are always strange people hanging around, Detective. Just check out this lunch crowd, not to mention the people that operate businesses on this block. But, I take your meaning.” Bernice thought for a moment, running a weathered hand across her brush-cut gray hair. “Can’t say I have, but I’m usually pretty wiped out by the end of the day. I try to head out around 4:30 in the afternoon when I’m able. We don’t offer dinner, only breakfast and lunch.”

  Reightman tried not to show her disappointment. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a card. “If you do think of anything, please give me a call. The number is on the card. Thanks again.”

  About that time, one of the regulars shouted, “Turn up the tube, Bernice! That little prissy balding guy from the City Council is getting ready to talk. Let’s hear what bullshit he spouts today.”

  “Sure thing, Charlie.” Bernice pulled a remote control from her apron and turned and pointed it at the television, pushing the volume button a couple of times. They all adjusted themselves to better view the TV.

  “And now, city viewers, we’re going live to the steps of City Hall, where Councilman Sutton Dameron will address members of the press!” Lydia Larson’s blue eyes widened in joyful anticipation. The cameras cut to a view of City Hall, where a sizable number of people were gathered. A rank of microphones was stationed at the top of the steps, and to one side stood a woman with her arms resting on the shoulders of two children dressed in matching outfits. A gentle breeze ruffled the woman’s peach colored linen dress, which hit just below the knee and bared the lady’s arms. “That must be the Councilman’s wife,” Reightman thought, noticing her large, sparkling pendant, which looked like it cost a pretty penny.

  Councilman Dameron eventually made his way up the steps, stopping to shake hands and greet supporters. A few held up campaign placards which read “Vote for Sutton Dameron – for HE shall lead the way!” Reaching the top of the steps, the Councilman stepped behind the microphones. Reightman noticed a small step stool partially hidden behind the podium, and grinned when she discovered he was using it to increase his height.

  Dameron held up his hands to quiet the cheering and clapping crowd and then cleared his throat a couple of times before starting his address. “Fellow citizens of this great city, and ladies and gentlemen of the press, allow me to express my appreciation for each of you who chose to join Christina,” he indicated the woman in the peach dress, “my two wonderful children, and me on this glorious summer afternoon.” The crowd applauded enthusiastically until the Councilman motioned for quiet.

  “I know that many of you have more important and critical things to do today than to spend this time with me,” he gave a tiny self-deprecating smile, “and so I’m humbled and gratified by your attendance. I come to you today as a citizen who finds himself both saddened and inflamed by what I see around me. I am saddened by the poor state of our wonderful city and the deteriorating morality evident in the past decisions made by some of our leaders. I’m particularly sad because of the infringement and rending of our city’s charter, and the outright desecration made to the guidelines and regulations laid down for us by our founding fathers over one hundred and fifty years ago. It is a sad, but honest truth that recent actions taken by the majority of the council, and endorsed and supported by the Mayor, rip open the very fabric of our society.”

  He looked into the cameras with a troubled expression. “It is bad enough that we suffer those of weak moral fiber and unsavory life choices to live and prosper among us, endangering our children and our principles, but granting them additional rights through the adoption of dangerous protection policies goes beyond the pale! I know what many of you are thinking. I can see it in your faces.” He scanned his audience, and nodded his head sagely. Reightman thought he looked like a parody of some noble, wise statesman. “You say to yourselves, “Sutton, other cities and states are adopting similar policies.” You ask yourselves, “Why shouldn’t we do the same? Surely it’s alright?” Well, my fellow residents, I’m here to tell you that I believe it’s very wrong and nothing more than a direct attack on the biblical teachings and rules of society handed down to guide and govern us. Why should we grant poor misguided and perverted creatures additional rights and
protections under the law? Why should we allow them a greater foothold in this city where they’ll corrupt our youth, encourage licentiousness and sin, and put us on the road to ruin? I tell you – we should not! For therein rests the seed of destruction and that seed will lead to suffering for all moral and righteous men and women.”

  Dameron moderated his voice into a more reasonable, edifying tone. “We should instead require that they educate and reprogram themselves to align within the proper order. We should instead offer programs to correct their deviant sexual leanings and behaviors. I fear that soon we’ll even see a time when members of the opposite sex freely violate the privacy and safety of our small defenseless children through polices that will designate public restrooms as gender neutral territory – a misguided concept – and allow dangerous predators and filthy deviants into those most vulnerable spaces. I know that I fear for my own sweet and innocent babies.” Sutton sniffled and wiped a single tear from his eye while gazing tenderly at his children. He visibly firmed his jawline and Reightman noticed after a moment’s effort, his eyes held impassioned fire. “My brothers and sisters, concerned and right thinking citizens who I know and believe you are, it’s time to take back this city from the degenerates and hold it forever more for those who maintain and uphold the traditions and attitudes of the righteous!” As Dameron shouted his last sentence the crowd applauded and cheered loudly, although as cameras panned around, Reightman noticed clumps of people talking together and shaking their heads in disbelief that they were hearing this type of rhetoric in current times.

  Dameron raised his arms again for quiet. “I promise you, that if re-elected, I will do everything in my power to put us once more on the path of moral triumph and that, only that my friends – will help alleviate the sadness I feel today.” Reightman saw the Councilman look toward the woman in the peach dress, and at her encouraging nod, he continued. “Citizens and supporters, I also come to you today incensed and inflamed. Incensed at the prolific waste I see in our city and incensed at the wasteful programs and initiatives in place. I’m incensed at the crony-ism that is prevalent at every level of our city government, and at the ineptness our critical city departments have shown over the last months. But most of all, I’m inflamed with anger over the latest terrible event. A few short days ago, a horrific murder was committed here in our beautiful city, in the heart of our vibrant and growing downtown district.” Reightman and Jackson were now completely riveted to the broadcast. Sutton Dameron continued in the same tone of righteous indignation. “A man was murdered in cold blood, just steps from our homes and workplaces. I can ignore the fact that this horrible action took place in a business owned and operated by one of those misguided and deviant homosexuals I alluded to earlier. I can ignore the fact that the victim was found splayed sinfully naked within a room of that business. But I cannot ignore the fact that nothing is being done to identify, capture and detain the perpetrator of this most heinous crime.” The Councilman’s voice now rapidly increased in volume and intensity. “I can’t ignore the fact that the police department of this city, under the questionable leadership of Police Chief Ernest Kelly, have failed to effectively use the multitude of resources provided by the taxpayers of the city. Resources each of us provided through hardship as we shouldered the tax burdens imposed upon us all! We deserve better!” Again, Dameron expertly moderated his tone to keep the attention of the crowd, and the television viewers. “To that end, I call upon the Mayor and the rest of the city leadership to open an investigation to examine and determine how our city police have so woefully mishandled their investigation of this case. Furthermore, I humbly offer myself up to head such an investigation, regardless of the personal sacrifices my family and I must suffer to make this possible. As you know, my friends and supporters, Christina and I feel it is our duty to do whatever necessary to ensure the safety of our children, and all of the other children, families and business owners of moral integrity across our city.”