“Good luck, Tempest. May you find your soul,” he whispered below her ear.
Rami opened the front door of the diner and pushed her inside. In a flash, he was gone, disappearing around the back of the building, sliding behind the wheel of her shop, and driving down the mountainside. He fantasized about what she was saying inside the diner, getting excited all over again.
The crowd would look up in surprise at seeing a black woman in the small-town store. The Sheriff would be there, having the lunchtime special. A few local workers who drifted in for a midday meal would all be shocked to see Tempest flailing about with wild arms, attempting to explain what happened to her in less than fifteen minutes.
“Help me, please,” Tempest said to the small crowd. “He’s blinded me, and he stole my vehicle. Help me! I can’t see.”
LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY
The panic was back. His chest was tight and darkness seemed to engulf his every step. This time he began to fret.
“Nope, not gonna panic,” he whispered, lowering his head as the bus made its way over the hill. Three stops from now and he would be home. She needed help now. “Father, hear my prayer...”
In personal silence, as the rustle of bodies slipping past him, he said the prayer, not for himself but for Tempest. She needed to come home. Regroup. Connect. Find meaning again. More than anything he wanted her to come home so the bits of panic and anxiety attacks would cease and he could get a good night’s rest. Lately, the days were as restless as the nights. Then it clicked.
“Someone is after her.”
Chapter Five – A Whisper to an Angel
Gabriel Neary, known to the technicians as the Archangel, sat behind his desk, eyes narrowed on the stationary monitors which fed bits of visual and quantifiable data to his fast working brain. The one name which continuously popped up on the screens was that of The Glitter Man. One Rami Slanecki, a nasty little man with delusions of grandeur whom Gabriel knew well. He said a prayer of thanksgiving that Rami didn’t know him, or at least, up until this point had not equated several of the negative turns in the poorly developed life planning to the leader of God’s army against the forces of evil. No, Rami was a special case that Gabriel handled with a long-handled sword, pushing, moving, and shifting him out of the way of good people. Well, mostly good people. Others who screwed over Mr. Slanecki had done so without the aid of the Archangel, simply because the man did not appear to be a redeemable sort, but he was not one to judge.
It was no surprise that Rami had chosen now to surface with a vengeance.
The news clips played over and over and when he looked at the largest monitor, he spotted in the background the dark face. He bit his bottom lip knowing that if he saw the woman in the van, so had Slanecki. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he pondered the next move.
Several times he’d warned Beauty about the man, even suggesting she hire him on and give Slanecki small jobs. Instead, the chronic tangled web of lies and deceit unhinged the man, excluding him from the one world he longed to be a part of, as a member of the tribe.
“He’s going to go for The Cleaner,” Gabriel said, watching the replay of the Sheriff’s body roll out of the hotel.
The same meddlesome Sheriff which made his lifelong friend Brody Johnson have to marry Millicent Channing to escape that evil man’s grasp is the body that would and possibly could break down the organization. The Sheriff was dead with traces of glitter on him attributing the death to The Glitter Man only Rami didn’t kill the Sheriff. Gabriel knew that to be true because he was watching the man’s moves; at least he had been, until two days ago.
Gabriel lost track of him. Normally, that wouldn’t be a cause of concern, but Slanecki was a head case. A serial killer in the making but he didn’t know it. Currently he was more of a nuisance, like the bully on the playground burning ants with a magnifying glass. His fear was that Tempest Fateman was going to activate the unwired portion of his brain and give the man a sense of purpose, a cause so to speak, and send him on a mission.
Leaning back in the old leather chair that once belonged to his grandfather, he interlaced his hands behind his head, exhaled and closed his eyes. In times of quiet, he could hear in the silence, what needed to happen next. Gabriel didn’t rush the private conversation he held with the Man on high, he simply waited for a response.
The voice was small, tiny, and pleading for help.
“Home. Home. Home,” Gabriel said aloud repeating the words which had come to him. Opening his eyes, he asked, “Where is she heading?”
Gabriel clicked the mouse, changed screens, and moved closer to the monitor. The news spoke of another case in Marion, Illinois, then another incident in Nashville. He plugged in the route from Wentzville, and he gathered from the path that Tempest was headed to Mr. Mann. Rolling the chair to the right, he picked up the phone and made a call. A simple call, that spoke of his love of Ethel’s cornbread waffles and hot catfish on a Friday night with an icy cold beer.
On the other line Gabriel’s eldest brother Zeke cursed up a blue storm, angry at the Archangel for making him want some fish.
“Hey, Zeke, if I had my way, I would be on my way there to help you eat it,” Gabriel chuckled. “Hopefully, Cabrina, the old ball and chain and me can get down there soon. Have a piece for me while you’re at it.”
The call ended with two brothers throwing barbed, but friendly jabs at each other over the line. Gabriel, in his office felt the oppression of an invisible weight that nearly took his breath away. A solution would be reached that would give Tempest little to no answers and there was only one thing he could do at this point to save her life and put her back on the right path. Currently, she once again, was heading the wrong way.
Tempest Fateman needed to go home. However, the journey didn’t allow her to take it on her own, for the sake of everyone involved.
“Help is on the way Tempest,” Gabriel said, logging off the system for the end of his shift. In a few hours the calls would come through, but only then would he actually do anything more.
He need only to wait.
Chapter Six – Confused
Darkening thoughts covered Tempest like black ink slipping into her pores, blotting out the remaining shards of light struggling to break through to the tired soul of a weary road traveler. Anger scuttled through her veins as if the blood itself had been replaced with icy chips of self-doubt and fueled by the current dislike of herself, Nathaniel Mann, her boss Beauty Kurtzwilde, and the idiot who called himself the Glitter Man. The irony was not lost on a woman who cleaned up behind professional assassins and cutthroats that the one sado-sadistic man denied membership to the organization wandered the highways with pockets loaded with rose-gold glitter, waiting to toss it over his unsuspecting victims like a punch-drunk fairy granting death wishes. She found it comical, if not bordering on the ludicrous, that a man could consider himself as a menace boasting such a silly moniker like the Glitter Man, trying to place himself in the same category with men like Mr. Yield, Mr. Stop, and Falling Rocks. In her estimation, he’d come out better as a threat used by parents to frighten small children into going to bed on time.
“You’d better get to bed Punkin, or I’ll say The Glitter Man three times, and he’ll come bite off your nose if you’re still awake,” Tempest thought, wanting to laugh out loud at the stupidity of the past 72 hours.
Three days. Three damned days, and The Glitter Man had made her life a living hell, leaving a visionless, careless woman standing in Ethel’s Diner, trying to explain the current situation to a bunch of back water hillbillies who were probably staring at her tits.
“Is anyone here? Can you help me please?” she asked aloud, feeling at the damp air saturated with grease.
“I’m directly in front of you, Miss. My name is Sheriff Tomlin,” a man’s deep voice with a high-country southern accent spoke. “How did you get here?”
“My van, I parked it out back, but then there was the bright flash of light...everything went dark,
” she said, starting with the truth. “A voice, raspy, and close to my ear pulled me from the vehicle. He told me he was the Glitter Man. I can’t see. I can’t see.”
Tempest reached out, touching the buttons on a shirt. “I’m Tempest. Tempest Fateman. Can you help me?”
“Sure, come over to the table right ‘chere and take a seat, and we’ll get this sorted out. Do you know anyone in this area, or are you just passing through?” The Sheriff asked waving at Ethel to bring a cup of coffee.
Sheriff Tomlin was newly appointed to the position after the retirement of the last crooked cowboy who held the role of local law enforcement. The new job was simple—keep the hillbillies from getting too rowdy on a Friday night and don’t get fat eating at Ethel’s twice a day. This, however, was a new ball game altogether; a blind woman carjacked by a person she called the Glitter Man.
“Ma’am, right ‘chere is a cup of Ethel’s chicory coffee with a dab of cinnamon. Are you hungry? Have ya eaten?” He inquired, trying to put the woman at ease. The last thing he needed was a panicking woman with no eyesight.
“I was coming to visit my friend Nathaniel Mann. He lives in the area,” Tempest said, listening carefully as the air was sucked out of the room.
“You work with Mr. Mann?” Sheriff Tomlin inquired.
“He has a job now?” she said, adding a faint smile. “I just thought he lived on top of the mountain, hunting deer, living off the land, and fighting against the government’s intervention in his daily affairs.”
She could hear the audible chuckles in the room at the last portion. Most of the people who lived on the mountain felt the same way about the government, even if she wasn’t sure Nate held the institution in the same regard. The Sheriff, an astute man, provided just the right amount of information to ensure Tempest was aware of the current living arrangement of one Nathaniel Mann.
Sheriff Tomlin stated, “I haven’t seen Nate in a few days. He and his wife and kids come down every other week here to the diner for some of Ethel’s chicken and dumplings. That oldest boy of his, he’s about 7 or 8 I guess, that boy, wee doggie, must have a shallow leg, because that little guy eats like a hog. The new baby, who looks like a mini Michelin Man with all them round little spare tires in his middle, can put it away, too.”
“Yes, Rocky is a bit of a food gobbler for a kid so thin,” Tempest replied. “I’ve only seen photos of Nate Jr, and I was planning to bring his wife Sharon a few presents, but they were in my van. Is it possible to call Nate for me?”
Tempest wanted to kick herself for being such a moron. The new burner phone was activated, but it didn’t hold any phone numbers, not Nate’s, not Beauty’s, nor even her lovers. One the one hand, it was great because there was no trail to follow, but on the other side of the coin, she had no way to reach anyone and call for help.
“I’m sorry, Tempest, is that your name?” the Sheriff said, watching the ebony skinned woman’s face. She was beautiful in a subtle way. The more you stared at the delicate facial features, the lovelier the image became. Watching her face was like staring at a piece of art and discovering a new revelation at each stroke of the brush. He gulped hard. “My name is Robbie Tomlin. Most people just call me Sheriff, but you can call me Robbie.”
“Thank you, Robbie,” Tempest said, reaching out for his hand. Red lacquered nails, perfectly polished squeezed large knuckles, dabbled with hair, as she made the connection with a man she couldn’t see. Even blinded, she could feel the same effect she had on the male species, without her vision. “Yes, please call me Tempest.”
“Tempest, Mr. Mann left a few days ago headed out to God knows where,” Robbie said softly. “His wife and kids headed to the beach. You know he’s got that security system up there, so with my two good eyes, I wouldn’t try to navigate his home to leave you there. Do you know anyone else in the area?”
Panic filled her again. She had nowhere to go and no phone numbers to call for aid, and she was at the mercy of men who lived on a mountain specializing in human trafficking. The moment her eyesight returned, she would hunt Rami down and personally put a bullet in his asshole ensuring he would shit in a plastic baggie for the rest of his living days.
Then, in a flash of energy which felt as if it were washing across her soul, a sense of contriteness came over her. Inhaling deeply and trying not to gag on the thick grease hovering the air, she exhaled. If God would hear her prayer, she could become a better person. Feeling foolish for trying to bargain with the Lord, she said the prayer aloud.
“Dear Jesus, help me, but I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone else in the area,” she said, pulling her hand away from his and clutching her purse to her chest. The sound of a jangling bell and the gust of wind to her right meant someone had come through the door. A quietness fell over the place as Ethel called out his name.
“Hey, Zeke. What can I do you for?” Ethel wanted to know.
Ezekiel Neary also lived on top of the mountain and was a close neighbor and friend of Nathaniel Mann. The black woman sitting with the Sheriff caught his attention. Everything about the lady spelled trouble phonetically written out with a fancy, cursive capital T. He didn’t want to get involved with the bag of misfortune she was about to lay out for the next man in her life. He could smell the good, hot, and nasty sex mixed with a shitload of crazy splattered up and down her thighs.
“Ethel, let me get two fish dinners and two grapes and a Faygo Red with a cup of banana pudding and slice of your pound cake,” Zeke said, walking past the woman and Sheriff. He nodded to the Sheriff.
“Zeke Neary, this ‘chere is Tempest, I didn’t catch her last name,” Robbie Tomlin spoke. “She was headed to town for a visit with your buddy Nate. Unfortunately, in the back of the building, a bright light blinded her and her van was taken. So... she says.”
It was then that Zeke noticed the front of the tailored jacket and spotted the rose gold glitter flakes.
“She can’t see, Zeke,” Robbie said. “Nate and the Missus ain’t home. Tempest ‘chere told me that the Glitter Fairy blinded her and took her van, leaving her right ‘chere all alone to fend for herself.”
The way Robbie said “all alone” made the hairs on the back of Nate’s neck stand on end. It had only been two years since his wife, Tameka, had come to this town all alone and ended up a captive in a run-down cabin, showing up on his doorstep in the throes of labor. This was bad, the kind of bad that made the acid in the bottom of the belly wake up and start sprinting up the esophagus.
“Did you say Glitter Man or Glitter Fairy?” Zeke asked, moving closer to the table.
“Glitter Man,” Tempest clarified, turning her face towards the sound of the man’s voice. “I’m Tempest Fateman. I didn’t catch your name, but you’re a friend of Mr. Mann?”
“I’m Ezekiel Neary, but most people call me Zeke, and yep, I’m a friend of Nate’s,” he said, looking at the glitter covering her jacket. He had questions, but most would have to wait for later.
“Neary, as in Joe Neary?” she asked, looking in the direction where she last heard his voice.
“Yes, he’s my father,” Zeke said, almost holding his breath. The woman was bad news. He could almost taste it just as he could taste the fish grease hovering in the air in small particulates.
“Joe is a good friend of my employer, Beauty,” she replied, looking intently at where she thought his face would be.
“Does your employer know you’re here?” Zeke inquired.
“I had planned to give her a call once I got to Mann’s but I find myself at a disadvantage, which is starting to freak me out a great deal,” Tempest said, placing her hands on the table and feeling for the coffee mug.
“Yeah, you said he just blinded you in the back of the building?” Zeke asked, looking at the dumb Sheriff.
“Yes, and he led me inside of this establishment,” Tempest said. “He told me he was taking my van, but for all I know, it could still be behind the building. I have no way of checking since the man blinded me w
ith a flash of very bright light. I can’t see anything. The one person that I know in this town is not here, so Zeke Neary, if you plan to be of any assistance, I would greatly appreciate not being left to the mercy of people I can’t see and really don’t know.”
“Well, you don’t know him either,” Sheriff Tomlin said in a defensive tone.
“No, but my employer is really good friends with his father, which means that the son of Joe Neary is a good man who is going to help me,” Tempest said, pushing back in the chair and getting to her feet. “Am I wrong in this assumption, Zeke Neary?”
“You’re not wrong, but what concerns me is your level of calmness as if this is something that happens to you every day,” Zeke said, going to the counter to pay for his dinners. He noticed that Ethel had added a third meal for his uninvited house guest.
“My mother always taught me to speak His name in your hour of need and help shall appear,” Tempest said. “I called His name asking for help, and you walked through the door. Therefore, why should I worry when He sent you to help me?”
“Well, I wish He had told me ahead of time, and I would’ve gone to the Chick-fil-A instead of walking up in this bitch,” Zeke said, paying for the food and collecting the bags. He walked around the side of the table, extending his arm for Tempest to hold onto. “I’m on your left. My arm is out, so take hold of it, and we’re heading to my house. My wife and daughter are home.”
“Thank you, Zeke Neary, and also for the extra meal you paid for so I can eat dinner with you,” Tempest said.
Zeke asked, surprised as how attuned she was to such a rapidly changing situation, “How do you know that?”
“I heard the two containers go in the bag, but she opened it again and added one more. I assume the extra meal was for me. I do have some money and can repay you,” Tempest told him.
“Let’s just figure out what is what first,” he said. “Sheriff, have you checked out back for the white van?”
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