by A. J. Downey
“Yeah,” I nodded and crunched through a piece of bacon. “Yeah, she gets it.”
“You didn’t even change out of uniform last night, isn’t there some kind of rule against that?” Backdraft asked.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“You love her, too. Don’t you?” Lys asked softly and I looked up and nodded.
“Yeah.”
The three of them nodded as if something was confirmed and I scowled.
“What was that look for?” I demanded.
“Just realizing it’s not just you we gotta take care of on this one,” Golden declared.
“I don’t need no one to take care of me,” I said. “I’ma be a’ight.”
Golden smiled and nodded. “First thing you’ve said since coming in here that’s made me believe that, man.”
“First thing you’ve said that’s sounded like you,” Backdraft agreed.
I sighed and nodded.
“I’m just tired, man.”
“You want, head on upstairs. Little man is in school, you can crash and burn in the guest room.”
“Nah,” I shook my head. “I’m just gonna head back to my place. Get a hot shower and some sleep.”
“You sure you ain’t got reporters parked there?” Backdraft asked.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I do, I’ll tell ‘em the same thing I told miss thing this morning.”
“You can go to hell?” G. asked.
“Damn right.”
He and Backdraft laughed a bit.
“Exercise that asshole merit badge,” Backdraft agreed.
“You know that’s right,” I said, and Lys set down a cup of coffee with some creamer in front of me.
“Thanks,” I told her and she smiled. “And thank you, fellas. I think I needed this.”
“That’s what we’re here for, my brother,” Golden said. “That’s what we’re here for.”
24
Elka…
I threw myself into my work, carefully cleaning a layer of grime from the paint with a mild solvent and thick, handmade cotton swabs. Protective eyewear and breathing mask in place, I would have to pause periodically as my eyes welled and the safety glasses would fog up. It was frustrating but wasn’t affecting my work terribly enough for me to warrant going home early.
Now if I were in the process of retouching a piece? That would require some rethinking on the matter.
I had to shut off my phone. The calls were coming in, incessantly. One after another after another. I sent a text to Oz telling him that I was turning it off and why, and that if he needed to reach me to call the museum front desk and what extension to dial.
Two hours into my day, my boss arrived at my desk to check on me.
“Mattias, hello,” I murmured as soon as I got the protective gear off.
“Elka, how are you faring?” he asked kindly.
“I’m alright,” I said breathing deep and evenly, the acrid tang of the solvent I was working with biting at the back of my throat.
“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he said and I smiled reassuringly.
“I’m fine, Mattias, I promise not to let it affect my work.”
“I’m not concerned about your quality of work, though I probably should be – I’m more concerned about you.”
“I’m fine, I promise you,” I said, and he looked me over, the grave concern he was feeling etching lines into his forehead where it wrinkled his deep blue eyes searching mine out.
“Very well. Simply call if you need anything.” I nodded.
“I will.”
It was some time after that and just before lunch when Emily, one of our front desk girls, led a man I didn’t know back to my work space. I frowned and removed my mask and glasses.
“Can I help you?” I asked frowning.
“Mr. Rivers said he knew you,” Emily said and her voice faltered.
“Ha, yeah, I may have given that impression – I’m Anthony Rivers with the Indigo City Citizen Accountability Blog.”
“I don’t want to talk to you or any other reporter,” I said curtly.
“Just a few questions,” he said.
“I said no.”
Emily put her hand on his arm but he shook her off, eyes on me.
“Just a few questions,” he insisted and I stood my ground.
“I said no.”
“What’s it like to fuck the man that murdered your sister?” he asked loudly.
Everything stopped. People turned from their workstations and Emily’s mouth dropped open, aghast.
I picked up my phone from my work table and calmly, despite the slight tremor in my voice said, “Emily call security,” and turning to the next work table over and to Jonas who was scraping polyurethane from his work asked him, “Can you take care of this for me?”
My voice had to rise at the end as Anthony River’s voice rose, his questions pointed, his language growing more vulgar, bringing Mattias from his office.
Mattias rushed over and put himself between me and Mr. Rivers as I turned to make my escape. I went for the ladies’ restroom, choking up, turning on my phone, panic seizing my breath and making the bile rise to burn the back of my throat.
I called Oz.
“What’s the matter?” he answered thickly, his voice dense with sleep.
“Can you come get me?” I warbled.
He was awake, instantly.
“Ellie, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?” I dissolved into tears and slid down the bathroom wall, weeping so bitterly, I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
“I’m coming. Someone will be right there. Just hold on.”
The line went dead and I cried. I cried and cried at the unfairness of it all and I let myself have this moment of weakness because we all became stronger after the break.
“Elka?”
I shoved both of my hands against my mouth and nose in a bid to silence myself.
“Elka?” the bathroom door opened, and my humiliation was complete.
“Oh, Elka. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know!” Emily knelt down beside me and though she was practically a stranger to me, she wrapped her arms around me, and I took the comfort because what else could I do?
I wept, bitterly, until I was all cried out and to her credit, the slightly younger woman said nothing. She simply rose and wetted some paper towels and handed them to me to wipe my face.
A knock fell at the door and Mattias called out, “Ladies, is everything alright?”
Emily went to the door and cracked it.
“Fine, we’re all good here. Maybe just a moment.”
“Yes, of course. There is a gentleman at the front desk, an off-duty Indigo City policeman, who is insisting he will not leave until he speaks to Ms. Köhler.”
“I’m here, it’s fine. I’ll see him,” I said hollowly. Emily opened the door a little wider and Mattias looked in.
“Yes, well, Jonas has taken care of your piece. Please, take the day – the rest of the week for this all to die down and blow over. Please. For the good of your health.”
“I don’t know that I have enough sick leave accrued for that yet,” I said hesitantly.
“Give her mine,” Emily said without hesitation.
“Oh, I can’t let you do that,” I said.
“It’s my fault. I let him in. I insist.”
“It’s already done,” Mattias said kindly, waving me forward. With a death grip on my phone I sighed and complied.
I wasn’t ready to walk through the gauntlet of shame waiting for me in the work area. I wasn’t ready for the hush and for the staring. Some of those eyes sympathetic, some smug – which I didn’t understand, but noted nevertheless.
I took down my purse and swallowed hard, lifting down my briefcase and my jacket. Mattias and Emily walked me out. In the atrium, one of the Indigo Knights stood up from one of the chairs against the stairwell.
“Thank you,” I murmured to Mattias and Emily.
“Of course,
” my boss said. “We’ll see you next week.”
I nodded and went up to the Knight who said, “I’m Poe, I’m supposed to take you home. I was the closest, so they called me.”
“Hi, Poe. Thank you for coming,” I said and sniffed, eyes welling again.
“It’s not a problem. I’m parked right outside.”
“Any reporters out there?” I asked with a feeble laugh.
“If there are, they’re fixin’ to have a real bad day,” he said dryly.
I smiled and let him help me into my jacket, slipping my phone into the pocket, slinging my purse and my briefcase across my chest.
“Ready to go?” he asked. I nodded and with more than some mild trepidation went out onto the street.
It was like any other idyllic summer afternoon. I raised my face and closed my eyes, the sun shining fiercely through my closed lids. I opened them, buildings stabbing upwards to a perfect blue sky and I swallowed hard.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” I said, and Poe nodded at me from over by his bike, a helmet perched on his denim and leather clad hip. He stared at me, expression somber, his green eyes patient.
“What doesn’t?” he asked.
“That the day should be this perfect when it feels like my life is a house of cards and is about to completely collapse.”
He nodded slowly and said, “You and Oz both, you’ve been through a lot.”
“Too much,” I agreed.
“You wanna go home or you wanna go to his place?” he asked.
I didn’t even hesitate.
“Take me to him, please?”
“You got it,” he held out the helmet. “Let’s get out of here.”
It was scary riding behind Poe. I don’t know, it wasn’t anything he did. I just didn’t know him that well at all and he just didn’t feel as safe, as solid as Oz.
We rode the opposite direction of my apartment to the edge of the city. A rundown part of town that was just on the edge of gentrification.
Poe pulled down a fairly narrow alleyway between two buildings which surprisingly terminated in a small parking lot of subcompact cars and Oz’s immediately recognizable bike.
“Hey!” We looked up as Oz came out of a door at the top of some thick but old wooden timber stairs. “What you bring her here for, dude?”
“Ladie’s request,” Poe called up and shut off his bike. “Your chariot has arrived, milady.”
I got off the back of his bike and handed over his helmet.
“Thank you.”
“At your service,” he said with a smile.
“I’m gonna take off!” he called up to Oz who was on his way down. “You call me if you need anything else!”
“Will do, brother.” Oz stepped off the bottom step and strode over to Poe, clasping hands and bumping shoulders in that hyper-masculine hug/not-quite-a-hug thing.
“Thank you again,” I said and Poe gave me a sharp nod.
“Anytime. Don’t let them get you down.”
“I won’t, thank you.” I wasn’t entirely sure I could give him enough thanks at this point.
Oz reached for me and pulled me tight against him.
“For real, brother. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” Poe said with a smile and started his bike. Oz and I stepped back and watched him go.
“Come on inside. There’s no tellin’ who is out here,” he said and guided me to the bottom of the stairs.
He smelled clean and I took shelter in his arms and let him lead me up the stairs.
“Talk to me,” he urged.
I groaned.
“It was so embarrassing!” I cried.
“What’d that dude say that got you so upset, baby?”
I told him everything and by the time I finished we were standing inside his apartment, the front door shut tight against the outside world.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me!” He looked as affronted as I felt.
“Dead serious,” I murmured, slipping off first one heel, then the other, burying my toes in his carpet as I looked around his sparsely furnished but super clean apartment.
The first thing that struck me was the utter lack of art on his walls. It was a bachelor’s pad, through and through – just with a decidedly more grown-up touch. The couch was gray and a bit threadbare, but clean and serviceable. The coffee table scarred and something that likely came from the curb.
The end tables were much the same, and didn’t match one bit, but the television mounted to the wall was, by comparison, very nice and was fairly large as compared to mine.
A gaming system was on the floor and seemed to serve as both gaming and movie or streaming service to the T.V.. As for the rest of the place, it seemed empty.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I realized he was watching me look around his place.
“The walls are so… bare.”
He laughed slightly and with a smile said, “So paint me something to put on ‘em.”
“I can do that,” I said softly, and he sighed and said, “C’mere.”
He pulled me into his arms and I went willingly, suddenly just exhausted, both mentally and emotionally. I felt numb and all cried out and I said, “Is it really awful that all I want to do is take a nap?”
“I did just as soon as I got here,” he said and sighed. “It’s not awful. I get it. You’re just as tired of the bullshit as me.”
I made a rude snort and said, “Not a good sign considering it’s just beginning.”
“You got that right.”
“What do we do?” I asked. “I mean, where do we go from here?”
It was a valid question, I thought, yet Oz remained silent.
“First things first,” he said finally. “How about you come in here, lie down, and take a nap?”
“What will you do?” I asked.
“Me? I’m fixin’ to make a few phone calls.”
“To who? About what?” I asked curiously as he led me into his bedroom.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he said. “Let’s get you tucked in, here.”
I sighed. As much as I wanted to argue, I was tired and it felt nice to have Oz take care of me and so, against my better judgement, I didn’t press the issue. I simply nodded and let myself be led into his bedroom where he stripped me out of my clothes and slipped one of his tee shirts over my head.
He led me to his bed which was larger and way more comfortable than mine and tucked me in gently.
“Get some sleep,” he whispered and kissed me one more time.
“Okay.”
He stared at me from the doorway to his room for several moments before slipping out and shutting the door behind him. I sighed and closed my eyes and it wasn’t but a breath or two before the sweet oblivion of sleep claimed me.
25
Oz…
“How is she?” Skids asked over the line.
“Exhausted, and man, I’m tellin’ you. I’m right behind her.”
“What do you need, brother?”
“Honestly, to get the fuck out of dodge through the weekend would be nice,” I said.
Skids sighed through the line and said, “Can you both come in tonight?”
“I could make it happen, though it’s dicey, Chief. I feel like every time we step out, there could be a fuckin’ ambush waiting.”
“Fuckin’ reporters,” Skids growled in disgust.
“Ain’t no love lost between a lot of us and them,” I agreed, thinking about Youngblood’s woman and that thing with Backdraft and his girl. “Why can’t people just mind their own fuckin’ business, man?”
“That is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?” Skids asked.
“Man, who you tellin’?”
“Just bring your asses in here tonight. Might be we can come up with a temporary solution to your problem.”
“Ten-four, Chief. Received,” I said and Skids chuckled.
“Over and out,” he said and we disconnected the call.
&n
bsp; I sighed and sat on the couch, propping my feet on the table. I turned on the T.V. and lowered the volume immediately before I picked up my controller and flipped through some menus.
I didn’t see the point in trying to play anything right now, so I put on a movie instead. I didn’t watch much of it though. I was thinking about Elka, about us, and what would happen next.
I didn’t know where to go or what to do, I mean, I had a few options – but I wasn’t entirely sure bringing her home to my momma was a good idea right now. Shit, I was pretty sure the news would reach as far as my hometown. If not from the major outlets then some homie from back in high school told that homie who told his momma, and it would definitely be the talk of the barbershop or the beauty parlor by the end of next week.
I pressed fingertips into my eyes and rubbed them. The phrase no good deed goes unpunished coming to mind. That was exactly how I felt. That I was somehow being punished and at the same time, I felt like I deserved it. I mean, that little girl hadn’t hurt nobody, and I didn’t care what anybody said, it was my fault she was gone.
My phone buzzed. Unrecognized number. I rejected the call. They could leave a message. Buzzing filled my apartment and it wasn’t my phone. I tracked the sound to Elka’s jacket pocket where it hung off the high bar chair at my kitchen counter. Her phone was going off, also an unknown number. I rejected the call only for it to light up with a different number just as soon as I’d done it.
“Goll-ee, man!” I whispered harshly, keeping my voice down so I wouldn’t disrupt her sleep.
I rejected the call off her phone and turned it off before it had the chance to ring again, just as my phone started going off on the arm of my couch. I shook my head, went over, and rejected the call.
Probably took them longer to find my number being as I was law enforcement. I didn’t have any attachment to my number, so I would be getting that shit changed. I would see about having Ellie do the same.
I shook my head and stared at the back of my jacket and cut hanging off the chair next to Ellie’s and sighed. I didn’t know what I would do without the guys in my corner on this one. I didn’t know how I would keep it together. Hell, I wasn’t even really all that sure I was keepin’ it together.
This was a hot mess and the only real comfort I had was layin’ in the next room and I knew how not fair that was to her, but it was the fuckin’ truth.