“Thanks for having us,” Pearl adds.
“My pleasure,” Claire continues. “Now tell me, Pearl, why is the festival so popular? Twenty-nine years and going strong!”
Earl and Pearl seem proud of themselves.
Pearl answers, “We’ve been doing this a long time, but the people keep coming back from as far as two states away to see the newest designs. We’re always trying to push our craft to the edge and come up with interesting ways to get others involved.”
“That’s exciting. Earl, what do you personally consider the hardest type of wicker basket to weave?”
Earl scratches behind his ear. Then, he rubs his chin. “Well, I’ll tell ya, a lot of people are intimidated by curling baskets.”
“I love those,” Claire says while giving a hammy and fake laugh.
“A lot of people do,” Earl obliviously agrees. “But, really they’re just two regular baskets connected by a hinge of some sort.”
Claire nods. “Very interesting.”
Earl continues. “However, I don’t know a basket maker worth his salt who hasn’t failed miserably trying to make a quality grain basket.”
Earl stands back, proud of himself.
Pearl nods in agreement. “I know I failed on many a first attempt.”
Claire has to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. “Fascinating. Grain baskets, really? Why are they so feared in the basket weaving community?”
“Basket makers,” Earl corrects.
“I’m sorry?” Claire asks.
Pearl provides the clarity. “What he means is that we consider ourselves basket makers, not basket weavers. That’s a misnomer.”
“Really?” Claire asks.
“Yeah,” Earl takes over again. “You see, not all baskets are woven, but they’re all made. Some baskets, like coracles, have animal hide as part of the design.”
“I didn’t know that,” Claire admits.
“Don’t beat yourself up, honey. Most people don’t,” Pearl sympathetically says.
“It’s part of the reason why we have this festival every year,” Earl adds.
Claire can barely maintain her fake TV smile. “So, getting back to my question, why are grain baskets so difficult?”
“It has to do with how tightly the grass is woven,” Pearl answers.
“A good basket maker will get the weave so tight that the basket, or sack, is practically waterproof.” Earl stands a bit taller and crosses his arms. He must be quite pleased with himself.
“So, grass is used instead of wicker wood?” Claire innocently asks.
Both Earl and Pearl erupt in laughter, as do many of the spectators. Claire doesn’t know why.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Earl can barely compose himself. “Sweetie, you just tickle me pink.”
He tries to compose himself, but he fails again.
Pearl steps up to explain. “Wicker isn’t a type of wood, honey. It’s a term used for all types of plant material, including stalks, branches, and shoots. Even plastic, these days, can be woven, although true basket makers try to stay away from artificial materials.”
“Oh,” Claire says.
Kill me, she thinks.
“It’s okay. It’s a common mistake,” Earl informs. “That’s another reason why we have this festival.”
Claire addresses her camera. “Alright and that festival is still going on for three more days. Make sure you gather the whole family and bring them down for fresh air, education, and amazing artwork.”
“And baskets!” Earl and Pearl shout together.
“And baskets,” Claire adds with a fake chuckle. “This is Claire Kennedy reporting from the Wicker Basket Festival. Back to you, Gabe.”
“And cut,” her cameraman says.
Claire slumps.
Earl steps forward. “Thank you, young lady. You made my day.”
“I’m glad,” Claire says.
Pearl approaches with a big grin and a curling basket in her hands. “Here, sweetie. You spoke so highly of these that we wanted you to have one.”
Claire reluctantly accepts the gift. “Thanks.”
“Feel free to stay for the festival,” Earl says, “but don’t think you’re getting any more freebies.”
The crowd laughs again.
Claire plays along, but she plans her escape. “I’d love to, but I have to get back to work so I can edit this for tonight.”
The crowd groans in apparent disappointment.
“Make sure to watch yourself on TV today,” Claire reminds.
This seems to cheer them up.
“It’ll be on D2I Analysis with Gabe Hammington,” Claire informs.
Pearl gets excited. “Ooh. I love him. He’s handsome and so sensitive.”
Claire throws up a little in her mouth.
She forces another fake smile. “Yes, we all love Gabe. He’s a valued member of our team. Goodbye. Thanks for a great interview and an educational experience.”
The people bid their farewells and start to look at baskets again. Claire is left miserable while her cameraman tears down.
Sergeant Love finishes up issuing the assignments to all his officers. He’s a no-nonsense veteran of the police force with rippling muscles. He dedicates countless hours in the gym to ensure he’s in peak physical shape.
“So, any questions?” he asks.
Maria raises her hand. It’s met with groans from the other officers assembled.
“Yes, Pecos?” Sergeant Love asks.
“Are we going to address what happened to the chief on the news?” she asks.
The other police officers groan again.
Sergeant Love quickly silences them with a look. “This isn’t the time nor place, Pecos.”
Maria presses the issue. “I’m sorry, but that reporter was way out of line.”
“What the hell do you want us to do about it, Rookie?” Smith asks.
“Watch that tone, Smith,” Mendez warns.
Sergeant Love erupts. “Shut the hell up! We’re not going to play this game every time Pecos says something stupid.”
Maria looks a bit ashamed, and Mendez seems defensive. The rest nod with Sergeant Love.
“Now get out there and do your damn jobs! Dismissed!”
The assembled cops leave. Many grumble as they pass Maria.
Benji walks in and grabs Carlos by the sleeve.
Karen frowns and follows the pair.
“I guess you can come, too, Karen,” Benji says.
“Thank you, Benji. We’re kind of a team. I’m so glad that you approve,” Karen says.
“What’s up, Benji? Any news on about our favorite vigilante?” Carlos asks.
“I just got the brief from our forensics guys,” Benji says.
“So?” Carlos urges.
Benji continues. “After comparing the injuries from early vigilante attacks, there’s no way he killed the people at that church.”
“I didn’t think he did,” Carlos admits. “It’s good to know that there’s evidence now.”
“So, does this mean the vigilante is a hero again?” Karen asks.
“I don’t know,” Benji answers. “I think the bad press scared him off. He hasn’t been seen for some time.”
“Then where did she go?” Karen asks.
Carlos throws his hands up. “Karen, do we really have to listen to this again?”
“Yup,” Benji gladly answers. “I think he was called back to the mother ship.”
“She’s an alien?” Karen inquires.
“No, Karen, that’s just an expression,” Benji clarifies. “I think his field tests are complete, and the government is debriefing him. He’ll probably show up again, in a few months, somewhere else. With better kit.”
“That’s fine by me,” Carlos states. “I’m sick of our city getting slammed. The crooks have been emboldened. It’s going to take a lot of effort to get things back to the way they were back in the spring.”
Karen and Benji
nod.
“Do you think the state is going to step in and send the guard?” Karen asks.
“I hope not,” Carlos answers.
Benji shakes his head. “I don’t think they will. They’re closer to big government, after all. They may have been briefed that these experiments would be going on. Even if they weren’t, they would probably be told that things were under control. I don’t see any help coming, but I don’t know if we need it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Carlos corrects.
“Yeah,” Karen agrees, “we’re out there all the time. It’s rough. I’m even scared, and I have a gun.”
“Not to mention a bullet-proof body,” Carlos adds.
Benji is sympathetic. “Stay safe out there.”
“We will,” Carlos answers for the pair.
“Starting now,” Karen adds. “We have to go or Sergeant No Love will come down on us.”
“I understand. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Alright, bye,” Carlos says.
“See ya,” Karen says.
Karen and Carlos rush out the door to start their patrol.
Someone rings the doorbell to Tina and Keith’s house. She waits patiently for an answer. Over her shoulder, she holds a black garment bag.
Keith eventually opens the door. His eyes go wide as he looks at the beautiful woman standing there. “Hello?”
The woman seems to have a pleasant persona, but Keith accepts that someone this hot can be as mean as she wants.
“Hello, you must be Keith,” the woman says.
“Yeah, who are you?”
“I’m Julie. I work for Mr. Osaka. He wanted me to deliver this to your mother.”
Julie gestures with the garment bag.
“Okay.” Keith yells over his shoulder, “Mom, it’s for you.”
“I’m getting ready, just take a message!” Tina shouts back.
Julie flashes her brilliantly white teeth. “It’s alright, I can leave this with you. It’s a dress, but your mother shouldn’t feel obligated to wear it. Mr. Osaka just didn’t want to assume that she had a fancy cocktail dress for tonight.”
Keith takes the garment bag. “Okay, I’ll give it to her.”
Julie turns to leave, then pauses. She faces Keith again. “Didn’t you write a blog on that vigilante?”
Keith is surprised that she knows about it. “I used to, but I’ve stopped because of recent events.”
“That’s a shame. I don’t subscribe as a follower online, but I do read blogs. I enjoyed yours. It had passion. I’m sure the vigilante considered you a friend. One of the few who hadn’t turned on him. Oh well. What do I know?”
Julie gives a knowing wink. Keith is speechless. He doesn’t know what just happened, but he feels somehow chastised. Julie turns to leave, then stops again.
She looks over her shoulder. “Tell your mother that Mr. Osaka will pick her up at six-thirty.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Keith allows his eyes to linger on Julie’s butt as she confidently strolls back to her car. He imagines a tiny thong.
If only, Keith thinks.
After a long look, he turns and goes back into his house.
Keith walks upstairs. His mother frantically runs around her bedroom in her scrubs, trying to get ready. Several dresses are flung carelessly around the room, the apparent rejects from her indecisiveness.
“Who was that?” she asks.
“Some woman. She dropped off a dress for you from Mr. Osaka.”
Tina stops and looks confused. “Really?”
“She said that he didn’t want to assume that you had a fancy dress, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to wear this one.”
“Oh? That’s sweet. Let’s have a look.”
Tina opens the garment bag and finds a stunning red dress with the perfect shoes to match.
“Yup, I’ll be wearing this.”
Keith is uninterested. “Whatever. She said he would pick you up at six-thirty.”
Tina looks at a clock on her dresser and becomes frantic again. “Oh no. That’s only two and a half hours from now, and I still need to shower, put on makeup, and fix my hair. Why did I agree to this?”
“Relax, Mom. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Keith.”
Keith thinks about something amusing and laughs.
“What’s so funny?” Tina asks.
“I was just thinking about how much you hate Beatdown.”
“Why would you think of that?”
“Because you’re going out with Yuri Osaka.”
“So?”
“So, he’s probably the richest guy in the state. If Beatdown is just a bored billionaire, then Yuri Osaka is probably his secret identity.”
Tina laughs. “Oh Lord, help me. Your imagination.”
“Either that, or he’s the bad guy,” Keith offers.
Tina laughs again. “Yeah, the guy who’s so involved in charity. I think your alien theory has a better chance than Yuri being less than honorable.”
“Okay, Mom. Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks, Keith.”
Keith leaves while his mom finishes her preparations.
Mendez and Maria have two drunk men with hands on the hood of their police cruiser as the afternoon closes. Their car is parked in the lot of a moderately successful bar and grill. Both men have mild bruises and abrasions on their fists and faces. Mendez pats down the first man as Maria keeps eyes on the second. She does not go to frisk him, opting to allow a male the honor. Her perpetrator seems to notice this.
“Where’s my frisk? You scared you won’t be able to handle the dangerous weapon you find in my pants?” he gloats.
Mendez must be sick of all the sexual advances, both nuanced and direct, that his partner is subjected to every day.
“Shut the hell up. I’ll get to you in a second. Show some respect for the lady,” he says.
Maria rolls her eyes. She’s been subjected to lewd jeers and cat calls since puberty. She doesn’t need any help ignoring them, but she appreciates what Mendez is attempting to do.
“I’m sure any caliber you’re packing would only be a misdemeanor. I’d hate to write up such a short report,” she quips.
The first man with Mendez laughs at Maria’s quick comeback. “She got you, needle dick!”
The second man flashes red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “Screw you! You want another round, pussy?”
“Bring it on, bitch. I’m not scared of you.”
The two men act as if they’re going to go for another round of fisticuffs, but Mendez and Maria restrain their corresponding man.
Mendez seems fed up with the two. Clearly it isn’t the first time he’s had to deal with this pair. “How many times must we play this game, Randy?”
The second man answers, “He spoke about my mother. Where I come from that equals a beating.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she’d be proud of you for bragging about your penis in front of a stranger. Don’t give me that shit about how you were fighting to defend her honor. What’s the real reason? You dissatisfied with what he sold you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” the first man asks.
Mendez ignores him and just keeps checking the man. “Sir,” he continues, “I’m now going to reach into your pockets. Do you have anything on you that might hurt me? Anything that I might poke myself on?”
The first man looks a bit edgy. He has something to hide. He apparently considers his options, but he decides to just come clean. “Yes, Officer. I have a knife in my pocket. It’s just a small blade.”
Mendez smiles. “Sir, would you please slowly reach in, pull it out with two fingers, and set it on the hood of my car?”
“Sure.” The man pretends to comply with relinquishing his knife, but the moment Mendez’s attention waivers, the man runs at full speed to escape any further police interest in him.
“Ah shit!” Mendez yells. �
��Why today?”
He takes off after the man as they both turn a corner. Mendez must have been caught unaware, but he looks like he’ll quickly catch the foolish man.
Maria and Randy are left alone.
“So,” Randy says, “alone at last.”
Maria isn’t having it. “Sir, keep your mouth closed and your hands on the hood.” Maria places her hand on her holstered pistol.
Randy seems unperturbed. He turns around and faces Maria.
“Sir, please turn around and place your hands on the hood.”
Randy takes a step closer to Maria. The distance between them is now a mere five feet. “Why you got to be like that? This is our chance to get to know one another. I need to show you that I’m packing the serious hardware. I have to put to rest those doubts that you have in your head.”
Randy takes another drunken step toward Maria.
“Sir, stop moving. Turn around and place your hands on the hood of the vehicle. This is your last warning.”
Maria’s voice is extremely hard. It commands respect. For a moment, Randy obeys. Then, he decides to go ahead and make a mistake.
“What’s that you said about a warning? I’m a bad boy. Spank me, Officer Pokes. Didn’t you say something about putting my hands under your hood?”
Randy brazenly reaches for Maria’s butt. The moment his fingers clench around her orbs she hits him in the chest with a powerful double punch.
Randy takes a step back and attempts to catch his breath.
“Bitch!” he screams.
Randy lunges for Maria’s shoulder. She quickly intercepts the drunken grab and twists his arm around. She pushes his wrist back toward his elbow, and Randy bellows as Maria forces him to the ground. In his stupor, the man ignores the pain and pulls away, standing back up in the process. He swings a sloppy haymaker at Maria’s face. She blocks the punch. She uses both hands to attack his wrist and forearm. The blow is vicious and produces a yelp. Maria follows up by grabbing Randy’s wrist with her left hand and striking his ribs with her right elbow. Not finished, Maria then lowers Randy’s right arm and follows up with a second elbow strike to the right side of Randy’s head.
Mendez comes back around the corner with a handcuffed collar in hand and stops as he sees the scene unfold between Maria and Randy.
“Oh shit!” Mendez quickens his pace with the first man to stop Maria.
Bystanders Page 21