Transience

by Stevan Mena

  The pain was like caffeine, keeping him awake. He shook two pills into his hand. Then a third. It was so unbearable now, painkillers were becoming like candy. And they really weren't doing much for him. The doctor offered to up his prescription to something more powerful, but the side effects prevented him from driving, concentrating. Right now that wasn't an option.

  Harrington entered, carrying a printout. "I took the over on Denver last night. Drinks are on me."

  Jack put his bottle of pills away discretely, behind the most recently printed edition of the Police Procedural Guide for Collecting Evidence.

  "Oh, I forgot," Harrington said, "you don't go out. You don't socialize at all, do you?"

  "Is that it?" Jack asked, holding out his hand. Harrington tossed him the printout.

  "Her name's Carmen Muniz, she was 19." Jack's eyes gravitated towards the smiling picture of Carmen at the top. A face to the bones. Plain, young, sweet; she resembled all the others.

  "Carl said she was held captive, several months or more," Jack said.

  "If you're right, then this guy's been getting away with murder for over ten years."

  "I know I am."

  "Press is going nuts. The Captain's phone hasn't stopped ringing all morning. Everyone wants to know how her body was found…Jack."

  "I was hoping we could keep it out of the press for a while."

  "I can run a play fake, but that will only buy us a little time."

  Jack read through the document some more, there was a listing for a next of kin, Hester Muniz, with an address. "This guy likes to have his way with them. Take his time."

  "A power thing?"

  "Maybe. It means Angelina might still be alive. This girl, Carmen, parents been notified yet?"

  "I don't think so," Harrington said. Jack stood and reached for his coat. "Oh, you volunteer? Good."

  "He didn't bury the others, made no attempts at all to conceal their bodies," Jack said. "Why this one? What was he afraid of?"

  "Maybe it was his first? He was less cavalier?"

  "Maybe she was too close to home. Which means he'll be nervous we found her." Jack collected the report, tucking loose pages back inside the folder. He headed for the door.

  "They want to do the press thing this afternoon," Harrington said. "I'll try and stall, what should I say?"

  "You love to talk."

  "Only about football."

  "Tell them we have nothing to go on. That there doesn't seem to be any connection to the other murders. Let him think he's safe." Jack left the room in a hurry.

  "Hey, you still haven't explained how you found the body!" Harrington listened to Jack's footsteps get farther and farther away. He pushed up out of his chair and walked over to Jack's desk. He'd spotted Jack hiding something behind a book when he first walked in. He moved it and discovered Jack's pills. He picked them up, squinting to read the prescription. Harrington was no dummy, he knew it was a heavy painkiller. Jack had never complained of pain, never betrayed a wince. But apparently Jack didn't only look like shit, he felt like it too. Harrington was confused and, at the same time, impressed.

  He put the bottle back, careful to lean the book in place just like he found it.

  CHAPTER 24

  Jack pulled up to a crowded housing complex. The tenants were mostly a cluster of Hispanic groups: Dominican, Ecuadorian, Puerto Rican. He checked his handwritten address, matching it with the street sign across the road. Woods Avenue. Right place.

  He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Even though Carmen had disappeared over a decade ago, there was no doubt her family hadn't enjoyed even one day that wasn't clouded by the horror of not knowing what became of their sweet daughter. Some things in life you can never move past, never forget. Like Sarah.

  Not a day went by he didn't think about her face, how she felt in his arms. Twelve years, but the pain was still fresh. He would trade every day he had left, and every day he'd spent since, to hold her just once, hear her voice one more time.

  The only difference between Carmen's parents and Jack's loss was that Jack knew the fate of his wife. Now they were about to learn Carmen's, or at least half of the story. The other half, the part where Jack brings her killer to justice, was still being written.

  He took a deep breath, exhaling hard and loud, and climbed the cracked cement steps that led to apartment 3G. He glanced at the picture of Carmen from the report then tucked it away in his pocket and knocked.

  There was loud shouting coming from an apartment upstairs. Jack looked up, waiting for a piece of furniture to burst through an open window and land on him. Jack knocked again. Finally, the door opened.

  Hester Muniz, 50 years old, a little heavy, but not unattractive, opened the door. Jack saw the resemblance immediately, and his heart ached.

  "Yes?" Hester said with a warm smile.

  "Mrs. Muniz?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm Detective Jack Ridge."

  Hester sat on the end of a twin bed, wiping her eyes. She had led Jack into Carmen's old room, which was just as she left it. Jack was taking a brief tour; examining pictures, trophies, keepsakes, there was even a hairbrush, Carmen's hair still entwined.

  "All these years I pray she living her life somewhere," Hester said, sniffling.

  "I'm very sorry for your loss." Jack turned to admire a painting on the wall. It was a still life of a bowl of fruit, truly breathtaking. There were others, a sunset at the beach, one of a dog, all incredible renderings.

  "She love to paint. She was so talented. Her father work himself into the grave to keep us here. She get scholarship for her art, he was so proud."

  Hester's words made Jack feel even more remorse for the loss of someone so gifted.

  "They're beautiful," Jack said quietly.

  "I see that pretty young girl on TV all the time. They never once mention Carmen when she disappear."

  "I read her report," Jack said. "What can you remember about the night she went missing?"

  Hester shook her head and wiped her eyes again. She stared at the floor. Jack gave her a moment. She sighed softly and collected herself.

  "We had a fight. I pray and pray she come home. All these years, I beg Jesus, please, just let me speak to my baby one more time. Tell her how sorry I am."

  "Who else lives here?"

  "My husband, he die two year ago." The levy burst, Hester could no longer contain the tears as the emotion overwhelmed her. She moaned with grief, making the moment even more uncomfortable for Jack.

  He noticed a strong smell of perfume, and… wet dog. A large white collie entered the room and went straight for Jack; pawing at his leg, licking him. Jack politely rubbed the dog's head, glad for the interruption. It sliced through the emotional pall that had engulfed the room, letting the air back in a little. Even Hester turned her attention to the dog.

  "Faucet, no!"

  She stood up and grabbed the dog by the collar, leading him outside. She returned after a moment and closed the bedroom door tightly. The dog scratched at it a few times.

  "Sorry."

  "It's okay," Jack wiped the dog's slobber off with his handkerchief.

  "Carmen name him Faucet, his nose always running."

  Jack approached a dresser across the room. There was a framed photo of Carmen at her high school graduation. He picked it up to take a closer look. Carmen was dressed in her cap and gown, a large gold cross around her neck. She had her arm around a young boy, about ten years old. "That her brother, Francisco. He join the army."

  Jack put down the photograph and picked up another one. This one showed Carmen wearing a white sundress with orange flowers, smiling with a wink, her arm around another young girl her age. Jack had to take a closer look to confirm it, but he was certain the other young girl posing with Carmen was a young Laura Lowell. Jack turned and held the picture up for Hester to see.

  "Who's this?"

  Hester squinted. "…Her friend from school, I forget her name."

  Jack studied the
picture, half wanting to confiscate it under his jacket. He placed it back down and turned to find Hester standing right behind him.

  She leaned over and unhooked something from around Carmen's framed Communion photo.

  She cupped the item in her hands, extending them out towards him. Jack stared into her glassy eyes.

  "This was Carmen's." She took Jack's hand and placed a gold cross on a chain into his palm, closing his hand to make sure he couldn't refuse. It was the same cross Carmen had been wearing in the graduation photo. "Go with God. Bring justice for my daughter."

  CHAPTER 25

  Out in the schoolyard was a hidden alcove where Rebecca could sit quietly, hidden from view until recess was over. There were two large silver doors where food deliveries were made each morning, otherwise, no-one went in or out. She could relax undisturbed, out of sight of the other children.

  She'd swipe a piece of chalk from the teacher's board and sit and draw on the cement. Once in a while, an aide would peek around to check if she was okay. They would smile and Rebecca would smile back.

  Normally the teacher's aides would shoo children away from there — they didn't like it when a student wandered off where they couldn't see them. But they understood Rebecca was having a hard time adjusting, and that she wasn't up to any mischief.

  Rebecca was on her knees sketching madly today. The dream last night had been one of the worst. She could remember the woods, screams, a girl lying on the ground — a terrifying man with his hands around a girl's neck, squeezing, his eyes blank like a mannequin's. She'd tried to run, but couldn't move, as if rooted to the spot.

  She fought to remember his face, wanting to memorialize it in chalk, hoping if she stared at his image long enough it wouldn't be scary anymore. But she couldn't focus, couldn't quite get the memory correct to her satisfaction. She huffed with an exhale of frustration.

  The last thing she remembered from the dream was a feeling of being sucked up into something, like a giant vacuum came along and she was a tiny piece of dirt. The feeling was horrifying, like falling upwards, and she shuddered every time she thought about it.

  She hadn't slept through the night in so long, an ache started developing in her head. It receded slightly when she closed her eyes — which she tried to do often, irritating her teacher who had to keep reminding her to please pay attention.

  She held her eyes shut, drifting off, the noise of laughter and shouting became just a drone in the distance. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  Thwack! A large rubber ball smacked off the brick wall behind her head, snapping her eyes open. Tommy collected the rebound and wound up again, aiming it right between her eyes.

  "Look what I found!" he said with a grin that showed every tooth in his mouth. "I thought they locked you up in the basement during recess, freak."

  He released the ball with a grunt. It missed her by inches; Rebecca flinched and covered her face.

  "Reba the retard," Tommy sang repeatedly. He lobbed the ball again, not as hard this time. Rebecca reached out and caught it reflexively. Tommy's expression went dark, furious.

  "Give it back!"

  Rebecca threw the ball to her right, it bounced down a stairwell. Now Tommy would have to get permission, and probably an aide, to go fetch it. His face burned bright red, similar to the way his father's did whenever Tommy's mother bested him in an argument. His father's response was to throw her against the wall, while Tommy and his younger siblings watched helplessly from the staircase.

  "You stupid shit!" Tommy shouted, approaching. Rebecca hurriedly tried to erase her sketch. Tommy marched over and stepped on her hand.

  "Ow!" Rebecca squealed. Jeff and a few others overheard the sweet sound of suffering and rushed over to join in the fun.

  Tommy stepped back and saw the chalk dust sketch. "What, you gonna draw us a picture?" Rebecca tearfully massaged her squished fingers. Jeff moved in and knelt beside her, getting right in her face.

  "I think she's gonna cry," Jeff said, dribbling spit like some mad dog. Rebecca pushed him and, because he was kneeling off balance, he went tumbling backwards. Several kids laughed out loud, which made Jeff want to hurt Rebecca more. Rebecca knew staying on the ground would leave her vulnerable to his assured counter attack. She stood up, her back to the wall.

  Tommy clenched and whirled his fist as if he might strike her, but stopped just short of landing one. "I ought-a kick your face in!"

  Christina saw what was happening and skipped over, followed by a few bottom feeders.

  "Nobody likes you, retard," Christina said.

  "I don't care," Rebecca said, keeping her chin up. Christina recoiled at her defiance and got right up in her face, shoving her.

  "Think you're so smart, don't you?" She grabbed Rebecca's shoulders and pushed her again, hard. "No one likes you." She went to do it again, but Rebecca pushed back. A look of stunned disbelief on Christina's face.

  The crowd of children "oohed" like a bloodthirsty mob. Rebecca thought about what Jack had told her the other day. Maybe if she just ignored them, they would leave her alone. She relaxed her shoulders.

  Christina took a running start and shoved Rebecca again, the back of Rebecca's head slammed into the brick wall. Rebecca's eyes welled up from the shock and pain. She rubbed her scalp, but showed no fear.

  Tommy and Jeff joined Christina, pushing and pulling Rebecca like toddlers fighting over a rag doll. Rebecca fought to stand her ground. There was a familiarity about the violence that unleashed waves of hysteria inside her. Her skin got numb, her mouth dried up, she felt dizzy.

  The crowd thickened, growing louder and riotous. They shouted taunts and encouragement to Tommy and his gang of thugs.

  "Grab her hair!" one said. Christina obliged and they all tumbled to the ground.

  Holly pushed her way through the crowd. Rebecca was trapped under the pile, only her small feet visible, kicking and stomping. Holly screamed at the top of her lungs, "Leave her alone!"

  A scrawny boy with glasses who was hyped up and cheering like he was a spectator at a wrestling match shoved Holly back, "Shut up!"

  "Stop it! They're hurting her!" Holly wailed.

  Rebecca could hear Holly's cries through the taunts and shouts. It gave her strength to keep fighting.

  "Hold her down!" Jeff screamed. Christina grabbed Rebecca's face and neck. The sensation sent waves of terror through Rebecca's body and she lost all bearings — was this just another nightmare?

  Something flashed before her eyes, a bright white light that made everything around her vanish like water vapor in the wind. The world began to spin, it made her sick and nauseous.

  She could still feel hands around her neck — but the children were replaced by a dark figure hovering over her, menacing, terrifying. She could smell his breath. His darkened face was a blur, but his shape was familiar. She could feel his dirty, blistered fingers wrapped around her throat. She could smell blood, in her mouth, up her nose.

  Her windpipe squeezed shut, she couldn't get air into her lungs. Her eyes bulged. She tossed and flailed about like a fish out of water. Tommy and the others saw what was happening and let go. They stood up and backed away.

  A teacher's aide finally spotted the melee and pushed through the sea of tiny onlookers, blowing her whistle for them to make way. "What's going on? Break it up!" she shouted. Christina and the others quickly adopted somber expressions, nervous about the damage they had caused.

  "We didn't mean it," Christina insisted, her voice now timid and innocent.

  "We were just kidding," Jeff added.

  Several of the other children, who moments ago were screaming for blood like a mob of striking teamsters, burst into tears at the grim reality of their bullying.

  Rebecca's eyes had rolled back into their sockets, her torso lurching and sputtering, in the throws of a violent seizure. The aide, who had only just volunteered for the job a few weeks ago, stood helplessly for a moment, clueless. She knelt beside Rebecca and put her
hand on her chest, as if trying to wake her from the spell. Upon her touch, Rebecca lashed out wildly, striking the aide across the cheek.

  She recovered and cradled Rebecca's head to keep it from smashing on the concrete. She held her tightly as Rebecca's body quivered and trembled, so harshly, one of her shoes flew off. The aide blew her whistle again, a long breath, loud like an alarm.

  Rebecca had lost all contact with the outside world. In her mind, she could see trees, branches, water. The vision spun faster and faster. Everything dripped red, as if bathed in blood. She felt herself slipping away, further and further, all sensation draining from her body. Soon there was only the cold darkness.

  CHAPTER 26

  A blinding circle of light roused Rebecca. It moved from one eye to the other. How strange…

  "Just follow the light. That's it," said a soft voice. A nurse peeled open Rebecca's eyelid again and shined a penlight into her pupil to watch it dilate. Rebecca winced, her reaction made the nurse smile, she was going to be okay.

  She blinked, groggy, the bright white room started to come into focus. There was a doctor and several nurses hovering over her, adjusting wires. Her arm felt sore; she looked and saw a needle in her skin held with a bandage, with a tube that connected to a bag filled with fluid, dripping. This isn't the nurse's office.

  An announcement over a PA asked for a doctor to please come to the ER immediately. Outside, a man was wheeled by on a gurney. What happened to me? All at once every muscle in her small body flexed and tensed. She started to panic.

  "Just relax, Rebecca," the nurse said, gently rubbing her shoulders, easing her back down.

  Hearing her name calmed her a bit. The voice was soft, like her mother's, and her thoughts immediately went to her. Where is she? Does she know how to find me? Did something happen to her, too?

  "Shhhh," the nurse could see Rebecca's anxiety growing. She caressed her forehead and held her hand. The nurse's touch was warm, her skin smooth. A sharp contrast to the rough, blistered fingers that had tried to choke Rebecca to death moments before.