Saphora: vol.1 Retention (The Athena Universe)

by Jaz Johnson

  “But what about the noise? That was before the fall,” she said eagerly. Fran shook her head slowly in mild confusion.

  “What noise?”

  “The … It was like a scream. I heard it before the fall. That is what caused me to fall! It gave me a headache while I was flying.”

  “A scream? Who could possibly be screaming at the height you were at? And loud enough to do such a thing. Honestly, Saphora. It was probably a plane passing by.”

  Saphora paused, not having taken that into consideration. Her hutzpah faded, and logic once again seemed to overpower her. It was true that she had never flown by a plane before. And that the shocking sound of its engine could have been the ear-shattering noise she heard.

  “Saphora … Would it not be easier to believe that it was a hallucination?” Fran suggested. But in a way that made it sound like it was in Saphora’s best interest, which kept her defense down. It just seemed to be for the sake of her own sanity. Constantly rethinking and reanalyzing the event was proving to cause its own damage to Saphora’s psyche. She was beginning to like the idea of pretending that it didn’t happen. But then a scary thought occurred to her, as she looked up at Fran.

  “But what if it wasn’t?”

  Chapter 5

  “Gary Jones, 52 year old local resident was found dead in his home late Monday evening. His home reduced to rubble. Investigators are still looking into the death and have yet to say what the cause was,” A woman on the news spoke into her microphone as she stood in front of what was left of Jones’ house. Nearly the entire area was striped with caution tape, and littered with crime markers that identified evidence that they found to be significant. “Friends and family are still grieving over the sudden loss,” the scene switched to police searching the area momentarily before switching to a woman – most likely a friend or acquaintance of Jones.

  “I just want to know why he was taken from us so soon,” the woman sobbed. She raised a hand to wipe forming tears from her eyes as she looked away from the woman interviewing her. She shook her head, frowning. “I hope they find out what happened.”

  The scene switched from the sobbing woman, to another man, who, from Saphora’s memory of Jones, looked very similar to him. He was a very gruff-looking man, with a beard that was a little more pronounced than Jones’. He was taller, but had the same ways about him as Jones. Hard-assed, straight forward, and quick to react.

  “Well yeah, Jones had some enemies. But dang, his house? Someone really must have had a grudge against ‘em,” he said with a shake of his head as he lifted his cap momentarily.

  The scene came back to the reporter, standing in front of the rubble, with police working behind her. There was a slight pause between the camera’s switching, and her speaking again.

  “Grieving indeed. Police have found someone they believe to be a witness to the event, and are going further their investigation with them. We will keep you informed with any updates on the investigation. Yuki Uzumaki, channel 17. Eye-witness news. Back to you, Richard.”

  In the fluorescently lit interrogation room, Saphora’s eyes constantly readjusted to the slightly flickering lights above her. There was a constant buzzing from them. The room reeked of metal and corruption. She waited there, alone, in a wooden chair before a low steel table. There was a single chair on the other side, though she was almost certain that there would be more than one entering the room to speak to her. The one that sat would play the role as the “good cop”. While the one that stood in the dimly lit corner of the room, no doubt with arms and legs crossed, would have the burden of being the bad. She waited patiently with her hands in her lap, careful not to touch anything. She had watched enough television to know the process that was about to take place.

  She heard mumbling from outside the door. It was Dr. Lupin, speaking with the men that would be entering with him. Fran had insisted that the doctor be present during the investigation to discuss his assessment. Lupin had explained to the officers that Saphora’s mental condition was questionable, and had given a brief explanation of what he thought to have happened. But of course, the police still wanted to have their own conversation with her. Their own psychologist was standing outside the room, behind the two-way glass.

  It wasn’t long before the three men entered the room. Dr. Lupin entering first, and the two officers following behind him. The first officer took a seat across from Saphora, while the second officer stepped forward and placed a glass of water on the table in front of her. He stayed bent for a moment, making eye contact with her before leaning back up, and going to lean against the wall behind his fellow officer. Dr. Lupin came around behind Saphora, and dragged a chair from the corner.

  “Hello. Saphora, right?” the man in front of her asked, more than greeted. Saphora nodded her answer, glancing at his, and then his co-worker’s face. Studying their expressions. The one seated, seemed to be comfortably confident. While, the one in far end of the room seemed to be strikingly observant in his stillness.

  “Hello,” she answered back, looking to her side at Dr. Lupin. “Where’s Fran?” she asked, in a low voice. Seeing as though she wasn’t in the room with them, she assumed that she was on the other side of the two-way glass.

  “In the other room, don’t worry,” he answered, with about the same level of volume as his voice could produce. Saphora lifted her chin some in acknowledgement, knowing that that most likely meant that she was in the room watching from behind the two-way glass.

  “And why are you here? I fired you.”

  Lupin cleared his throat, and chuckled a bit, shifting in his chair uncomfortably as the seated officer spread out some papers on the table.

  “Maybe right now isn’t the best time to talk about that,” he suggested, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

  “Yes, maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about that, seeing as though he’s here to defend you,” the man sitting in front of them said, looking up with a grin once he had settled the papers. There was a slight silence between them before Saphora shook her head.

  “I don’t need a defense. I’m not guilty of anything.”

  “Other than stealing Jones’ truck, of course,” he cut in, rather sharply. Saphora’s speech was cut short and she stared at the man, unsure of what to say as a response. She hadn’t realized until that moment that she could very well be charged for taking the truck, even if it was to save her life.

  “I was …”

  “Borrowing it?” the man asked with a smile. Saphora’s eyes narrowed.

  “I had to.”

  “Of course. Well. We’ll get to that in a bit,” he said with an intake of air as he folded his hands on top of the table. His large watch clanged against the metal, and made Saphora’s ears ring. “I’m Officer Roland. And this behind me is Officer Glover. We’re going to be handling your case.”

  “Don’t you mean Gary Jones’ case?” Saphora interrupted. Roland paused, and their eyes met. He smirked.

  “Right. Jones’ case. You’re a witness. And until further notice, a suspect.”

  Saphora was silent as his words sunk in. She glanced up at Glover, who still had not moved. Not even to acknowledge his name when it was spoken. He was playing his part well. She huffed, not wanting to say anything further. She was innocent, so theoretically she had no reason to be hostile. But really, she had every reason to.

  “So, Fran. She’s your mother?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is she?” Roland asked, with a shrug of his hand as he looked over at Lupin. He was quick to answer.

  “She’s her caretaker.”

  “Caretaker,” Roland repeated.

  “Yes,” Lupin said with a bit of hesitation, as he thought of how to word his next sentence. But Saphora took the task from him, and explained it herself.

  “She found me. Took me in. Cared for me.”

  “Found you where?”

  Saphora hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable with sharing information. She lo
oked at Lupin, who took the hint that she didn’t want to go into detail herself and was about to step in, but Saphora surprised him when she continued.

  “What does that have to doing with anything?” Saphora spoke up. Again, there was a silence in the room, and they could practically feel the atmosphere amongst them become dense. Roland tilted his head, looking from the doctor to Saphora, a slight squint in his eyes.

  “Not much, I suppose … You seem a bit tense. Why don’t you drink some water?” he suggested, leaning back in his chair and giving a warming smile. A distraction. Saphora knew what the glass of water was for. She looked down at it, then back up at the two silent officers.

  “If you want my fingerprints, you should just ask,” she said bluntly, catching everyone off guard. Roland’s brows shot up and Lupin’s hand went to cover his face.

  “Your fingerprints?” Roland asked.

  “If you were really so considerate, you would have brought a glass of water for my therapist as well. I’m no stranger to television, Mr. Roland,” she continued.

  A low snicker could be heard from Glover in the back, which caused Roland’s pride to take small plummet. He sprang forward in his seat, feeling his intelligence being questioned, and placed his arms on the table – his watch clanging again. His eyes locked on hers, but she stayed unmoving. She had faced the man from her nightmares. She wasn’t about to be fearful of Roland.

  “Well aren’t you smart? Smart enough to kill a man,” he accused. Saphora frowned, and Glover stepped up, placing a warning hand on Roland’s shoulder. It seemed like she had gotten their rolls switched.

  “Roland,” Glover said in a gruff voice. Roland nodded, and waved his hand at his partner, composing himself.

  “What? I’m complimenting her,” he said with a chuckle, trying to come off a bit friendlier. But Saphora saw through that. He wanted nothing more than to pin her for the death of Gary Jones and be able to close their case in record timing. But that wasn’t going to happen. His partner, Glover, probably knew this, and was trying to keep Roland aware of his senses. Roland looked up at the unimpressed Saphora, and then to Dr. Lupin.

  “So, Doctor. There anything you want to tell us about Saphora?” Roland asked as Glover’s hand left his shoulder. Lupin looked away from Saphora and towards the officers when he was mentioned, and straightened his posture.

  “Ah, well,” he began. Saphora’s heart picked up as she looked at Lupin.

  “You can’t.” Saphora broke in. Lupin flinched a bit from her sudden volume and looked down at her. He searched her for some reason for her interruption.

  “You can’t talk about the sessions. They’re confidential,” she said looking at Roland immediately after. Roland watched in amusement, which both irked and encouraged her. “You should know that. What kind of officer are you?” she mocked, wiping his grin clean off. She turned back to Lupin as Roland raised his hand to defend himself. “If you talk about our sessions, I’ll be sure Fran fires you. And that you never have another patient again.”

  Lupin cleared his throat and grimaced, offended that his professionalism was being doubted so freely. He adjusted his glasses once again.

  “Saphora, please. Do you think I would be so foolish as to do something like that?” he asked her, shaking his head. “Honestly.”

  “You were pretty quick to refuse that, though. Any reason why? Afraid he’ll talk about some hidden desire for violence that you might have?” Roland suggested, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair. Saphora’s gaze narrowed at the man that she had begun to detest.

  “No. But maybe a lifelong hatred for close-minded, air-headed, first-year policemen,” she jabbed. Roland’s lips curled tightly in agitation, as did his left hand. Glover’s hand found Roland’s shoulder once again.

  “Saphora,” Lupin said under his breath, much like Fran would do. She acknowledged the tone, and held herself back from saying anything else. Lupin sheepishly looked up at the two officers, and attempted to follow through with Roland’s request.

  “She’s been coming to me for about three years for amnesia.”

  “Amnesia! How do we know that she didn’t just commit the murder and forget?” Roland accused. Saphora’s eyes snapped to his, but before she could speak up, Glover stepped in, pulling Roland up by his arm.

  “Roland. Take a walk.”

  Roland didn’t argue. He knew he needed one. Not giving Saphora another glance, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Glover groaned as he exhaled and took Roland’s seat.

  “Sorry about that,” he said on behalf of his partner. Saphora neither accepted nor ignored it. Merely took it as it was. “Go on, Doctor,” Glover insisted.

  “Well … As I said, Saphora has been coming to see me for a little over three years. For Amnesia,” he explained, with a small gesture of his hand.

  “And when did the amnesia start?”

  “Our records say since Fran – her caretaker found her.” Lupin glanced over at the still Saphora, who was carefully watching the door to the room. “Right, Saphora?”

  “Mhm,” she said very tight lipped. She wasn’t very fond of her personal information being shared with others. And although that information was more medical than psychological, she still wanted only the minimal being shared, if not nothing at all.

  “Does she remember that day? That she met Fran.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Glover nodded.

  “Mhm … Has there been any attempt to find her parents?” he asked, folding his hands atop the table. Saphora’s eyes narrowed in the door’s direction. She hated conversations like this. She hated being talked about like she wasn’t in the room. Like she was just some file being gone over.

  “Uh, yes, but,” Lupin began, giving a side glance to Saphora. Her expression was hard, and he knew that this was a not a topic that should be pressed. Glover’s brow’s raised as he waited for the answer to the question. “No leads were ever found,” he said, trying to put it as delicately as possibly. Saphora inhaled a long breath.

  “Are they dead?” Glover asked flatly.

  Lupin’s mouth fell agape at the boldness of his question, while Saphora frowned. This was not a topic that she wanted to discuss. Nor was it on that she thought had any reason to be discussed. She had done a very good job over the years distracting herself from the mystery of her parents. Where they were, if they were looking for her, and if they weren’t, wondering why they weren’t. And then there was the question that was just brought up. What if they were dead? Saphora didn’t like to think about it. Though she told herself that she was fine without her parents, she liked to think that she might one day get to meet them to at least let them know that she was alright.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she spat, her eyes now locked on Glover.

  “Saphora,” Lupin pleaded, even though he understood where her frustration was coming from with such a topic being handled so carelessly. Glover turned to look at her, obviously not seeing where he had gone wrong.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not excused. What the hell is your problem? Don’t you see me sitting here? And you’re going to talk about my parents like I’m not even here?” she said with a glare. Glover’s eyes widened in his realization and he quickly went to apologize.

  “Oh, god. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that I-“

  “What you were thinking. I know. It’s apparent that neither of you have any idea what you’re doing. None of the questions you’ve asked have anything to do with what happened to that man. So why don’t we get some people in here who actually know how to talk to another human being?” she raged, her patience having been worn. Both Glover and Lupin were silent after her rant. And it wasn’t long after that an intercom for the room came on.

  “Glover. Come out here for a moment,” A woman’s voice said, filling the room with echoes. Lupin and Saphora looked around the room, before their eyes found the two-way window. Glover sighed, lowering his head for a mom
ent.

  “Dang,” he grumbled, shaking his head and pushing off of his knees to stand up. “Sorry guys,” he said, before calmly turning around and heading out of the room. They sat there, listening to the mumbling on the other side of the door.

  “I’m sorry about that, Saphora,” Lupin said, with a voice that actually sounded sincere. Saphora shook her head, looking away from him.

  “He should have known better.”

  There was an awkward silence between them as they waited for someone to enter the room. About two minutes later, a woman entered. She closed the door behind her, and swiftly made her way to the seat in front of the table. Once seated, she smiled up at the two.

  “Hello. I’m Officer Johnson,” she said. Saphora half nodded her head, not looking the woman in her face.

  “Third time’s the charm.” Saphora said under her breath. She was tired of this place already. She wanted to go out, and talk to Fran. Johnson looked at Saphora skeptically, but then eased her expression, remembering what she had just been put through with Roland and Glover.

  “I’m sorry about them.” Johnson said, getting Saphora to look towards her. “I’m here to get it right, okay?” She was already doing it wrong – speaking to Saphora like a child. Saphora stayed silent. And when some time had gone by without her saying anything, Johnson cleared her throat and nodded, looking down at the papers in front of them.

  “Okay. Well, why don’t you tell me what happened on Monday?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “Of course. You’re the witness, aren’t you?” she said with a gesture of her hand. Saphora’s brows rose in somewhat of a surprise.

  “Oh. Well …” she sighed, averting her eyes momentarily while she tried to remember that day. It was now Thursday. “I left Dr. Lupin’s office after our session and decided to go to the woods - because I like to climb trees,” she began.