The Scales

by Paul Sating

  Eyes widening, Ida’s lips continued their silent movements.

  “You haven’t, have you?” Hilliard said. “Tell me then, Ida, is it not more practical that your children have fabricated all of this?”

  “Why?” she croaked.

  The corners of Hilliard’s lips turned down. “Far be it for me to say. But if I were in your position I’d look around, analyze the situation, and realize that the family is in a tough spot. Jerrod dropping out of school—”

  Ida’s head snapped in Jerrod’s direction. “What?!”

  He jerked back like he expected a swat. “I was going to tell you, Ma,” he pleaded.

  “Serenity, too. To sneak out of a school study session to run around the desert, getting into who knows what…well…” He let the implication dangle like the dirtiest secret in the world.

  Ida pivoted back and forth, trying to watch both her children on either side of her at the same time. “Jerrod? Serenity? Is this true?”

  The hurt in her eyes was like a gut punch that made Serenity glad she was seated. She hated herself at this moment. And she hated this disgusting man telling lies wrapped in just enough truth to bite deeply.

  “Momma—” she started.

  “I wonder what their motivations are for not telling you,” Hilliard said as though it were just he and Ida. “Why wouldn't they share honestly? A shame. A horrible shame, I might say.”

  “I was going to tell you, Ma!” Jerrod’s face twisted in a mixture of pain and anger.

  “Then why didn’t you?” Ida asked.

  Hilliard was in full control now. Serenity wanted to defend herself, but Hilliard spun more fabrications for her mother’s consumption before Serenity could deal with them.

  Hilliard’s chair creaked as he leaned back, his fingertips again forming a spire. “Then I must wonder how much of the rest of what they say accurate. For example, why did Serenity hide that she’d gone out to the reservation today, and what was she really doing at the Scales? These are the things I’d want to know.”

  “Momma, he’s lying.”

  Ida’s eyes never moved from Serenity’s, even as she spoke to Hilliard. “Mister, I don’t care to be taught how to parent by the likes of you.”

  Serenity found hope in the strength of her mother’s voice. She almost wanted to smile until she remembered there were four strange men in their house.

  Ida’s eyes narrowed, fire burning deep behind them. “I’m more interested in understanding why you have invaded my home and abducted my daughter. Even more than that, what I really want to know is what in the world you want from us.”

  Hilliard tapped a finger on the table with fast, thick thuds. “Yes! Great questions! Let me answer them for you, shall I? You know who I am, and we know who you are. All things in the open, we’d like to work with your children. Of course, to do that we needed both.” He made a circular motion with his hand. “We’ve been trying to get them together for a while now. It seemed impossible if I’m being honest. They’re quite active, as I’m sure you’re aware. Tonight, the opportunity presented itself when we came across Serenity out on her little joyride. Call it luck, I guess. Call it fate. I prefer to call it the result of hard work. Their actions have caused a slight slip-up in our schedule and created a few concerns, should we say? But what is done is done and we move forward, right?

  “Look at us.” He rocked forward so quickly that Serenity jumped. “We’re together now. So, we begin. The rest of it? Water under the bridge.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me what you want with my family,” Ida said. She didn’t sound impressed.

  Whether it came with age and experience or her character, her mother was an example to follow. Bravery and courage were at her core. Serenity saw that throughout her teen years as her mother struggled to support her two children without the help of family, friends, or community. But it was this, tested in the extreme, that drove home what it would take to stare into the face of evil and not flinch. It wasn’t Patch who could stop the Black Suits. The answer had been in her home, in her blood, all along.

  “Hmmm, I guess it doesn't.” Hilliard’s flat answer hung in the air. He lifted a finger, turning to one of the men hanging protectively over his shoulder. “See to it.” The man left the room without a word.

  Ida’s voice shook this time. “What’s he doing?”

  Hilliard waved away her question. “There are a lot of jobs we need to do, and we can do none of those in your home. I’m going to ask a number of things from all of you in the near future, things that will tax you. But there’s a purpose to all of this. What you’re unintentionally involved in is sensitive and of national importance. Your government needs you; your family is important. Special. That’s why we’re here. Consider this your civic duty if you will. When Uncle Sam calls, we answer, don’t we? Without question?”

  “I’m not doing shit,” Jerrod said.

  Hilliard manufactured a smile. “You mistake my words for a request. Don’t misunderstand and definitely don’t take my words as idle threats. I promise you; there are things we need with which you will comply.”

  “And if we don’t?” Serenity’s throat felt rusty.

  The answer was obvious because she’d taken the time to listen to Patch. However, her mother needed to hear it. If Patch’s warning wasn’t enough to help her mother see through her over-protectiveness, hearing it from Hilliard had to serve as the moment of clarity. Fate didn’t become more appealing the longer it went undefined. Or they were going to end up just like all those men at the metal plant. We still might.

  Hilliard joined his fingertips in a steeple, as if her question was so profound that he needed to think deeply. “That will depend on you. Compliance means a pleasant enough experience. Resist and we have…programs. People usually come around. Who wouldn’t do everything they could in service of their country?”

  There were tons of reasons. The fact that the Black Suits even existed was an excellent first example. “Is that why you do the disgusting things you do to innocent people? Out of service to your country?” The words sparked on dry underbrush, gaining energy and heat as she spoke them. She wouldn’t cower.

  He wagged that finger at her as if she were a misbehaving child. “Now, now. You haven’t given us a chance to show you we’re not the bad guys here, Serenity.”

  Inside, fire raged. In the twitch of that moment, she felt something. A connection. To something outside herself. Patch?

  “Yet you’re holding us against our will,” Ida challenged.

  “We’re protecting you,” Hilliard said. “There are things, forces, at play you don’t understand. Believe it or not, you need our help. Without it, your children are at risk. Facing things you don’t understand and which you’re woefully unprepared to deal with. We’re going to help with that.”

  “How?”

  “The details aren’t important at the moment, Ida.”

  “The hell they’re not.” Jerrod shot to his feet.

  Serenity jumped as two Black Suits tackled him, all three crashing into the chair, splintering it. The table rocketed into Serenity’s stomach. Ida screamed. Serenity’s mouth opened, she couldn’t hear herself cry. The world played a dull soundtrack as everything moved in slow motion. A silent action film.

  Hilliard backed away from the scuffle, shaking his head. The fourth Black Suit stepped closer, so close Serenity smelled his mix of cologne and sweat. He pressed a TASER against the back of her arm. Sure that he’d zap her the second she twitched, Serenity pinned her arms to her side, choking off the whimper trying to escape.

  A lot was happening on the floor. Periodically, the odd leg or arm jutted up in the air as the men struggled. Grunting and curses sprang from the other side of the table. Her mother continued to scream as Hilliard pulled her backward. Jerrod grunted and yelled each time a kick or blow landed. Serenity wanted to vomit. Adrenaline surged through her but she was frozen. Helpless. Everything blurred in the haze. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to he
lp, she did, but she didn’t know how.

  Ida tried to pull away from Hilliard, grabbing a dishtowel from the oven bar. The only reaction her assault elicited was a slight jerk of Hilliard’s head from the momentum of Ida’s swings. His grip didn’t relent. The man holding the TASER side-stepped toward his boss to help with a mother’s rage.

  Jerrod was on his feet, and one Black Suit lay on the ground, unconscious, blood streaming from his nose. The other was in a standing wrestling match with Jerrod. The man, though fully grown, was struggling to match her brother’s athletic strength.

  With the slightest shuffle, Serenity slid in the opposite way. She didn’t have a plan.

  Step.

  The Black Suit now struggled to fight off Jerrod’s counter attacks. A few more seconds and that battle might turn in their favor.

  Step.

  Serenity looked for a weapon on the unconscious Black Suit. In the fog of the battle being played out in this small kitchen, she might be able to grab his gun without being noticed, though she had no idea how to use it.

  The jacket on the fallen man was buttoned closed. Serenity could search for his gun. That would take time.

  Hilliard solved the conundrum. “Enough!” he bellowed.

  Jerrod and his adversary didn't react. Around and around, back and forth they struggled, bumping the cupboards, rocking the refrigerator, then hitting the counter near the sink so hard that the few dirty dishes rattled. Serenity dodged when the two ran into the table, throwing it three feet to the side and knocking over the chair Hilliard had been sitting in.

  “That’s it! Tase him, Ricardo.”

  The Black Suit dashed forward. Serenity screamed Jerrod’s name just as Ida came into her periphery, toward the man struggling with her son. This time, it wasn’t a dishtowel she held, but a rolling pin. With one swing, she knocked the man in the back of the head before Ricardo the Black Suit got to Jerrod. The thick crack turned Serenity’s stomach. Every one of the man’s extremities went slack, and he folded on himself as Jerrod jumped away, letting him hit the ground without interference. Jerrod didn’t wait. Grabbing the table, he pulled it in between all three of them and the two remaining Black Suits. Hilliard snarled from the other side.

  “Go. Run,” Jerrod yelled over his shoulder.

  Serenity grabbed her mother’s arm and bolted from the room.

  “My baby,” Ida protested, pulling back.

  “I’m coming,” Jerrod shouted after them.

  “Fucking tase him already, you dolt!” Hilliard screamed.

  Serenity ran, yanking her mother.

  They raced around her father’s throne toward the front door. Serenity released her mother. If she could get ahead, she'd be able to open the door in time so Ida wouldn’t have to break stride. They just needed to get to the door. Once out into the dark night, they would find help. The sound of her mother’s footsteps behind her encouraged her forward. The door was feet away now.

  Noise exploded in the kitchen--Jerrod raging, shouting. Serenity’s eyes teared up even as she threw open the door and raced outside, leaping off the front porch.

  “Momma, come on.” She turned to help her mother down the stairs and saw only an empty doorway.

  The screen door was swinging closed. Beyond it, her mother lay on the floor, Hilliard astride her, pinning her. A sliver of the kitchen was visible, enough to see the man Jerrod had been fighting coming around the corner to join his boss, wiping blood from his lip.

  Jerrod was beaten.

  No!

  Hilliard looked out the door and pointed, his accomplice’s head snapping in Serenity’s direction. No time for remorse.

  Serenity ran into the desert night.

  24

  A coyote howled in the deep cavity of the night. Even its pitched scream couldn’t stir Serenity.

  She was dead inside.

  Momma.

  Jerrod.

  In the hands of the Black Suits, made to suffer until Hilliard was happy with whatever information he would get from them. The cold of the desert night was better than she deserved. The sandy slope of the ditch she hid in all night protected her from the wind and the eyes of any Black Suit, but it wouldn’t protect her from the guilt burning inside her chest.

  She’d ran when Hilliard sent his last bully after her. She hadn’t thought about whether her mother was okay or if Jerrod was even alive. When the man lunged toward the front door at Hilliard’s order, she’d reacted, nothing more.

  Serenity dry-heaved into the dead brush, trying to purge contents that never came. She choked, gagged, cried over enfolded arms that rested on her raised knees.

  A string of clear mucus strung toward the desert sand. No one in the Tri-Counties was more pathetic. Every time someone needed her, she let them down. George needed her to understand the history behind the Screecher, and she turned her back on him, multiple times, because he didn’t give her what she wanted when she wanted it. Had she stayed, maybe things would have turned out better for everyone.

  Twenty-six people dead.

  Serenity picked up a rock and set it arcing through the chilled air. It crashed into the dry bush twenty feet away and clattered to a stop. The desert went still.

  Life didn’t give her an easy road. But then, who had it easy? Not anyone in the Tri-Counties, that was for sure. Even when things were good, life felt unsatisfying. Her mother had given up her entire life for her children to make sure they had everything they needed. Serenity dreamed of a life away from the Tri-Counties, of escaping to see a different part of the world, a place where people weren’t the people she'd spent her entire life around. The dream also included an education, of pursuing the sciences at a level that far exceeded anything the community college in town could hope to provide. But that day was distant.

  No, Ida Dorsey wasn’t the only one who’d sacrificed. Jerrod had too. Patch. Deputy Rodgers as well. Serenity realized, sitting on the sand, she couldn’t say the same about herself. The truth was bitter, emotional corrosion.

  A lonely wind whistled through the valley of the ditch. Serenity shivered, wrapping arms around her knees, pulling them toward her chest.

  Another round of sobs rushed at her. This time at the memory of all the difficulty and attitude she’d given her mother when Ida simply needed help around the house because she was too busy working multiple jobs to do it herself. Sixty-hour weeks did that to a person, robbed them of their life. Serenity had seen the creeping toll, how it wore Ida down.

  I’m a horrible daughter.

  Even the times she capitulated weren’t without resistance, a mouthy word, and, far too many times, with her mind somewhere else. She was so busy pouting about the inevitable, she blinded herself to opportunities she had, blinded to a mother's sacrifice in the name of love.

  Pepperdine was no longer a dream.

  Dreams died.

  This time, her stomach lurched and emptied itself between her spread feet. The dry landscape soaked up the remnants of her last meal.

  When she couldn't heave anymore, Serenity lay back. The sand had lost most of its warmth from the day’s sun. Chill gripped the night with a firm hand. If it got cold enough, she’d die in her sleep. That would solve a lot of problems. Yet, she wasn’t planning on sleeping. How could she? Her heart hadn’t stopped galloping since she fled the house.

  Serenity stared into the open sky, populated by stars--billions of places in the vast universe, holding trillions of possibilities. For a fleeting moment she thought about how, with just a tweak in her existence, her life could have been different. The universe didn’t care. It existed, eternal, regardless of her fate or choices, not caring for even trivial actions that could have mutated reality—a cell killed by a virus, a strand of DNA breaking, a different sperm winning the race. On both grand and microscopic scales, things could have been vastly different for her.

  Including not existing at all.

  Before she recognized the oncoming exhaustion, her eyes shut and, at least for a few hour
s, Serenity enjoyed blissful peace.

  ***

  The rising sun woke her.

  Serenity bolted upright, scanning the desert, trying to understand where she was, and then it hit her.

  Momma! Jerrod!

  Kicking up sand, Serenity was on her feet, running.

  This time, she wouldn’t fail.

  ***

  “What are you talking about?” The stress in Deputy Rodgers’ voice was obvious.

  Exhausted from the run and a poor night of sleep, Serenity collected herself, drawing a deep breath. “The men, the Black Suits, they grabbed me when I left last night.”

  “Where? When?”

  “Right outside the station.” Serenity pointed, as if doing so would help ground the deputy in her story. “I was going to the Gator and…and that side of your building, it’s like an alley. They were waiting.”

  “Dammit, I knew I should have driven you home.” He rubbed his forehead, leaving a pink pressure mark.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Serenity shook her head. “We’ve got to find Patch.”

  Deputy Rodgers shook his head. “Oh no, you’re not getting involved in this, Serenity. You’re staying here, where it’s safe. I’m not putting you through that.”

  “Do it, and I’ll take off as soon as you leave,” she promised.

  His jaw clenched. “And find yourself in a cell.”

  “I’ll sue you if I don’t break out first,” she said. “I’m going, deputy, with your help or without it.”

  Deputy Rodgers scratched his chin, his fingernails like sandpaper as they ran over a fledgling beard. “Serenity, I’m trying to be patient, but I don’t have time for—”

  “Neither do I,” she cut him off. “Instead of fighting me, pretending like you could sit around a damn police station while your family is danger, how about letting me go with you?”

  “Sheriff’s.”

  “Wha-huh?”

  “A sheriff’s office, not a police station,” he said, turning away, waving to her over his shoulder. Then he said those two magic words. “Come on.”