Blind Man's Bluff

by Gene Lembrick

  Counselor Cepeda interrupts her reverie.

  “Congratulations! I just got the results of your latest test; you passed as usual. Nice job.”

  “Clean for six years now.”

  “You appear to be doing well, Peterson.”

  “It’s not easy; every single day is a struggle to not be pulled back in.”

  “I understand it must not be easy. We try to keep the drugs out, but I’m not naïve enough to think that some don’t sneak in one way or the other.”

  Hailey shrugs her shoulders as if the counselor is going to ask who may have drugs. However, Counselor Cepeda doesn’t even try. She’s tried several times to get Hailey Peterson to snitch, and not one time was she successful. She changes the subject.

  “You’ll be released soon. What are your plans?”

  “My boyfriend Jimmy…”

  “Let me stop you right there! If he was your boyfriend when you were using out there, the worst thing you could do is to return to the same life-style. Eventually, you’ll fall right back into the same habits. Two addicts have disaster written all over it.”

  “Yes, I agree. Jimmy is dead now, so he’s not an option. I have no idea where my parents or siblings are living now. I haven’t had any contact with them in years; I’ve been totally cut off. When I was with Jimmy, I continually refused their help to get clean, and they kicked me out. They felt I was a bad influence on my younger siblings. I can’t say that I blame them. When I get out in a few months, I’m going to stay clean, take some college courses and get a job.”

  ‘If only I could collect a dollar for every time I hear this, I could have an early retirement,’ thinks the counselor, who says,

  “I wish you luck with whatever path you take. I hope you truly mean what you say and say what you mean.”

  “I do.”

  “For the past six years, I’ve been Counselor Cepeda to you and you’ve been Inmate Peterson to me. I’m aware of your full name and all inmates are aware of my name. In order to be professional, everyone is addressed by their last name. I’ll tell you what, on the very day of your release, I will call you into my office. I will address you as Hailey and you will address me as Marilyn as you walk out of this prison, deal?”

  “Deal,” says Hailey.

  “It’s a way I feel to help an inmate begin to readjust back into society.”

  Counselor Cepeda briefly smiles at Hailey. She returns the smile.

  “Keep up the good work, Peterson,” says Cepeda.

  “Bye and thank you, Ms. Cepeda.”

  Hailey gets up and walks back to her cell.

  • • •

  Several months go by; summer turns to fall. Hailey Peterson is released from prison for her role in the attack on the child. She returns to the streets of Hartford, where she lives in a homeless shelter for women night after night. She gets close with a fellow homeless woman named Bridget.

  They both begin to turn tricks for quick cash, as Hailey’s addiction has reared its ugly head.

  It’s late afternoon, Hailey and Bridget are talking in front of the shelter.

  “I put a few applications in today; however, everywhere I turn, these companies want to have you take a piss test,” Hailey says.

  “Same here. I’ve done four this week alone.”

  “I can’t pass a urine test.”

  “Neither can I; I hate my life!”

  “I’m not sure if they’re not calling me back because I got dirty urine or because of my prison time,” says Hailey.

  “I know,” says Bridget.” “At times I feel like robbing a store just to get locked up. At least then I’ll get three meals and shelter. I hate having to wait around for a bed for the night ‘cause if you’re not quick, you will be ass-ed out!”

  As the two of them walk down the street together, Hailey gets a paranoid feeling.

  “Do you get the feeling like you’re being watched?”

  “Watched? Girl, that’s just your prison nerves.”

  “No, it’s different. It’s a different kind of feeling I’m getting.”

  “Maybe it’s your guardian angel.”

  The sun has set and the two women have earned enough for the evening’s high. Hailey and Bridget make their way to a downtown alley in Hartford to get high for the night. There is only one way into the alley and one way out. They don’t want to have to worry about some other addict’s trying to sneak up on them and steal their drugs. This has become their routine. It isn’t long before they feel the effects of the Crystal Meth in this dimly lit alley. They’re sitting down, but propped up by the walls facing each other. With blurry vision and a spinning mind, Bridget says,

  “This is some good stuff.”

  She gazes at the ground a few feet from where Hailey sits.

  “Oh, wow, that’s such a pretty flower there.”

  Hailey looks. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

  “I have to use the bathroom. I’m going start heading back.”

  Hailey laughs. “Number one or two?”

  “Number two.” Bridget is unaware she’s holding up three fingers.

  “I’ll catch you later.”

  “Okay, I’m going to hang right here for a little bit longer.”

  Hailey isn’t afraid of being alone in this familiar alley, which is less than a half mile from the shelter. She rolls over to her left, without trying to get up. She picks up the pretty flower to smell it, thinking, What an odd place to find such a unique flower. She’s already decided to keep it for herself. Moments later, she again has the strange feeling of being watched. Hailey looks toward the alley entrance and sees a figure. Slowly this figure approaches Hailey. She can’t make out who or what it is; she thinks that the drugs are making her hallucinate. Once the figure gets close, Hailey realizes this thing is real; she can’t make out a face. The face of the figure is obscured by the dimness of the alley.

  The figure bends down into her face and whispers.

  “TAG! YOU’RE IT!”

  A sickle slides down the sleeves of this figure. There isn’t much of a struggle. Hailey Peterson’s death comes quickly.

  Detective Cooper David

  The next morning, Detective Cooper David arrives on the scene of Hailey Peterson’s body. Six years ago, he transferred from suburban East Hartford to urban Hartford. Within these six years, he’s been promoted from patrolman to detective. He surveys the bloody mess before him. Officers are there already gathering evidence. He happens to notice one of the officers he knows rather well, Officer Scott Samson. He knew it’s Samson by the Superman “S” tattoo that’s slightly seen on his left bicep at the bottom of his uniform shirt sleeve. He’s the only guy in the department with that kind of noticeable tattoo. Officer Samson has been a patrolman for Hartford PD for four years.

  “Morning, Samson.”

  Officer Samson turns toward the sound of the voice and acknowledges Detective David.

  “Morning, David,” he says, extending a hand.

  David had forgotten about the firm handshake of Officer Samson.

  “Ahh, dammit, Samson! Your hand feels like a metal clamp.”

  “Sorry, David.”

  “What do you have here?” David asks, shaking the pain out of his hand.

  “Homicide. Caucasian female, mid-to-late 20s, no identification on her. A junkie, possibly homeless; there’s a woman’s shelter nearby. We don’t have a name or witnesses as of now. She bled to death from wounds. Man, things are crazy in Hartford right now.” He shakes his head in disgust.

  “Yes, it is. It’s nothing like quiet East Hartford, where I started my police career.”

  David sees a bloody flower near the dead body.

  “Officer Samson, make sure someone picks up that flower for evidence; there’s blood on it.”

  “Roger that, detective.”


  Lieutenant Frank Woods arrives on the scene as Detective David is wrapping up his viewing investigation. Woods is a man who seems to always have a bad attitude. His colleagues wonder why someone would be so miserable all the time. Is his home life bad? some wonder. Did his wife buy him underwear a size too small? others speculate. Could he be suffering from erectile dysfunction? It’s something a few female coworkers have discussed amongst each other. No one can put their hands on what his problem is.

  “Good morning, Lieutenant Woods. Looks like we have another homicide on our hands.”

  “What’s so good about it, David?! Yesterday, I was doing some garage work and hammered my thumb. It’s not broke but still throbs like a son of a bitch!”

  “Sir, that officer over there was the first on the scene. Officer Samson, come here, please!”

  David introduces him to Woods, since the Hartford police department is so large, many on the staff don’t know each other. David wasn’t sure if the lieutenant knew Officer Samson

  “Lieutenant, I’m headed over to the station to start my paperwork,” says David. To Samson, he says, “Fill the lieutenant in on what you have.”

  David begins to walk away with a grin that would make the Cheshire cat blush. Officer Samson extends his hand toward Woods for a shake: “Good morning, sir.”

  “Ahh!”

  Woods screams while pulling his hand away from Samson’s grip. Lieutenant Woods now has two sore hands.

  Detective David is driving to the station in his Crown Vic when he gets a phone call from home. It’s his wife Halina. Cooper David and she are having marital problems, but are seeking joint counseling to see if the marriage can be saved. They have an 8-year-old son.

  “Hello. It’s me.”

  “Good morning. What’s going on?”

  “Junior wants to say hi before school. Here he is.”

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, little man, how are you today? Ready for school?”

  “Yes, I’m getting on the bus in a few minutes. Bye, I’ll see you later.”

  “See you later, Junior.”

  Halina ends the call with “I’ll call you later, bye.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  He continues to head to the police station.

  • • •

  Dr. Buckley invites his long-time patient Jade Hughes into his office. She’s now a young lady in her first year of high school. Dr. Buckley has noticed a change in her appearance these past few weeks before school’s started. He is pleased by it, because change can be good, and he lets her know that he approves.

  Dr. Buckley is sitting in his usual chair. Jade walks over to the window and peeks out of the blinds, which are always closed when there’s a patient in the office.

  “Did you know that your attacker was out of prison and was killed recently?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Jade neither turns around nor shows any emotion about the death of her killer. Dr. Buckley just sits there and observes her from behind.

  Washington High School

  It’s been ten years since the assault, August 2014. The very same children who played the game are now high school seniors.

  Beep, beep…

  Brandon Turner’s alarm clock is sounding. It’s six a.m. He’d fallen asleep with letters scattered on his bed. He takes them and puts them into a shoe box. Those letters are recruiting letters from almost every major college in the country. Brandon is the highest rated high school quarterback in the country. He’s visited four schools so far over the summer; he’s allowed to visit only one more school before he decides which college to play for next year. He’s on every school’s wish list. He’s six-foot-three, two hundred and ten pounds with a rifle for an arm, and the speed of a jaguar. He has a routine of doing one hundred push-ups and fifty sit-ups as soon as he gets up in the morning. This first day of school is no different. For now, he’s not thinking about college; he’s thinking about bringing a championship to his school, Washington High, and the town of East Hartford during his senior year. Despite the fact that he’s somewhat famous, he’s possibly the most humble gentleman you could come across. Handsome and polite, he’s the total package. His face was created to be in front of a camera. He’s also the product of a great upbringing by his parents. They’re a close-knit African-American family.

  Dominic Moretti is a first-generation American Italian, his parents having moved to America in the late ‘80s. However, he and his family visit their homeland of Italy frequently. Even though it’s rather early, Dominic has to go outside for a quick smoke. No, not cigarettes; as an athlete he wouldn’t want to damage his lungs. Dominic is a nature type of guy; he smokes marijuana. He’s a running back for Washington High who’s strong as a bull, but with the pounding he takes, he relieves his aches with a few joints a day. Even though everyone considers him a pot head, he’s also known to be a deep thinker.

  Lauren Sullivan has been up for a while. Her mother has been arguing with her younger live- in boyfriend, who had come home from a night out of drinking only a few hours before Lauren woke up. Lauren can’t wait to get out of this toxic environment. Plus, she feels uncomfortable with the way her mother’s boyfriend of two years looks at her. Lauren is a cute brunette, a cheerleader for Washington High. She rarely sees her father since he moved to Orlando after the divorce. She packs her clothes for the day and heads out to the home of her best friend Brooklyn Richards, a few houses down the street to get dressed together for the first day of school.

  Brooklyn Richards is the beautiful, blonde-haired head cheerleader for Washington High. She welcomes Lauren happily into her home, intending to help her look her best. Brooklyn has an image to keep up. She wouldn’t want to disappoint her younger admirers. In her mind, who wouldn’t want to be Brooklyn Richards? It’s all about BR.

  I am the one you denied brushed me off every time I tried but I’m alright I’m able to swallow my pride And put all the bullshit to the side If you ready to ride I’m down for a one night stand I’ll accept it any way that I can Cause I ain’t yo man I’ll try for whatever it’s worth just remember who played who first.

  Christopher “DJ” Greco is in front of the mirror, getting dressed, admiring his good looks while reciting the lyrics to the Lloyd Banks-featuring-Avant song Karma. Chris is good looking; however, the problem is that he knows it. He’s the biggest flirt around, and self-indulgent. He got his nickname DJ from Brandon; it’s a private joke. On the football team, Christopher is a wide receiver and favorite target for Brandon to throw the football to. He’s an easy target for Brandon to find because Chris’s speed to get open is unparalleled. Even though Christopher has a girlfriend, he can’t wait to get to school to see what new girl catches his wandering eye.

  Ida Phillips rings the doorbell. She has come to the home of her best friend Vicki Lynn Jones, so that they can walk to school together.

  “I need to use your bathroom first,” says Ida. “We only have one and my mom was in ours as I left the house.”

  “Sure,” says Vicki, letting her friend inside.

  Ida Phillips is a very opinionated, pro-sisterhood teenager. She doesn’t miss much, because she’s very observant of her surroundings. All her friends are boy-crazy, and into fashion, but not Ida. She does keep her reddish-slightly brown hair styled, but she doesn’t worry about keeping up with the latest in fashion like her friends. While she’s in Vicki’s bathroom, she notices that Vicki’s toilet paper roll goes under. Ida feels that it’s positioned wrong, and turns the toilet paper so that it goes over instead.

  Vicki Lynn Jones is a cute African-American young lady. Unlike her girl Ida, she dresses to impress. She and her girl look like such an odd couple because of their different styles. While she’s waiting for Ida, she continuously is checking on her appearance in a full-length mirror. She has to make sure everything is in proper order. Just like Ida, they’re very smar
t girls. Unlike Ida, Vicki feels that you can still look good while being smart.

  “Girl, will you hurry up?” Vicki asks through the bathroom door. “And don’t be in there changing the toilet paper again.”

  Ida finally comes out of the bathroom and Vicki peeks in to look at her changed toilet paper roll. Then they both head to school.

  Vicki asks, “Just why the hell do you always do that?”

  “Because having the paper go under is nasty!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When the paper goes under, a person has to use one hand to hold the paper in place so that the roll won’t keep spinning. Therefore all the germs from that previous person are left behind for the next person. However when the roll goes over, you only touch the paper you’re going to use. Do you really want to use germ infested toilet paper?”

  Vicki is speechless.

  “Ya’ll underneath people are nasty!”

  “Whatever,” Vicki says.

  They both laugh.

  Brandon, Christopher, and Dominic meet up at the corner of Hilltop Lane and Park Road, just a half a mile away from school.

  “Where’s your car, Chris?” asks Dominic.

  “I’m getting my windows tinted. It’ll be ready later today,” says Chris.

  “Also, why do you have that clothes hanger hanging from your pants pocket?” asks Brandon.

  “It’s for just in case a new cutie needs to hang her blouse up when we sneak into a dark quiet area,” says Chris with a wink and smile.

  Brandon and Dominic look at each other in disbelief.

  The boys and girls are on their way to school; however, they’re all late compared to the Hernandez twins. The Puerto Rican brothers Angel and Jesus arrive at school the moment that the doors are unlocked. They are waiting outside for some of their teammates to hurry up and arrive before most of the students do. Angel calls Brandon on his cell phone.