Broken Seed

by R J Machado De Quevedo

  At the mention of the chief, Elisabeth bristled, and I watched her eyes narrow into little slits of fury. I plunged on right past her facial display of rage trying to ignore it. It seemed to really bother her the chief knew where I worked. He had already known apparently if he had known to ask about me, which meant he had looked me up after Grandpa Billy had called him about Jill the day before.

  “Did anyone tell him where you were?” she interrupted me.

  “Nope. No one, according to David,” I answered.

  “But on the news, he said he was having the license plates checked. He could have already ran yours, and found out you worked there. Or…” Her face grew cold.

  “Or?” I asked, already knowing where her line of thought was going.

  “Or he had already looked it up. That might have been why he was so eager to come out personally to give aid to the Elk Grove Police. He wanted an excuse to arrest you. Bet he was ticked you weren’t around.” Elisabeth’s face twisted into a smug smile.

  “He also said he would be looking to talk to anyone he knew likely, he’s going to show up and want to have a word with me.” I resisted the urge to shiver at the thought. The chief was a big dude.

  Elisabeth let out a big sigh and closed her eyes as if to count to ten and not hit something. I stayed quiet while she meditated on finding her focus again.

  She opened her eyes and said with an airy wave of her hand, “You may continue now.”

  “Yes, massta Lizzie,” I said wryly.

  I finished telling Liz about leaving the restaurant with David and him discovering the pictures Frank had brought in while I was in the office getting my phone. He had seen the resemblance immediately, and it had been unnerving how convinced he was I was related to her.

  And I told her about how he had walked me to my car, and we had made plans to meet at four o’clock tomorrow to go clean up the restaurant best we could for poor Frank. I had refused to let him pick me up, I’d meet him there.

  “I’m not ready to be trapped in a small space alone with him again. Not this soon. I’m afraid I might attack him again…like some sort of horny vampire. Mustn’t tempt myself unnecessarily,” I said, mortified.

  “Understandable. Especially knowing how he feels about you. It makes him even more attractive, doesn’t it?” Liz asked me with a tender smile.

  “Actually, yeah. I hadn’t thought about it, but it does,” I said with a nod.

  We talked a little more about how returned attraction and affection can intensify the infatuation process. Well, Elisabeth talked about it actually. I listened and felt like a little kid getting sex education and a psychological lecture on the nature of the male and female psyche.

  “Ahem,” I said finally. “Right. Well, thank you, Doctor Ruth.” I snickered.

  Elisabeth seemed to come to herself and realize she had been babbling on for a few minutes. “Right. Sorry. I was thinking about Bradley and me too, actually. I guess I was seeing some things about us I hadn’t taken the time to analyze yet.” She smiled, abashed.

  “No worries. You’ve spent all night listening to me. Giving you a few minutes here and there won’t kill me.” I smiled.

  “Speaking of talking. Keep your phone ringer on today, okay? Even at class. You’ll need to get the news as soon as possible,” she said, suddenly serious.

  I almost asked what she was talking about, but it came flooding back with a vengeance.

  “I will,” I promised.

  “I know my grandpa may not have an answer for us for a while yet about your father staying locked up, but just in case, keep it on all day. That includes later at work when you’re cleaning,” Elisabeth said.

  “If he hasn’t gotten back to us by noon, then my father is already out,” I said with a shiver.

  “But you will need to hear from one of us anyway. I want to make sure I can get ahold of you. You know, Bradley has a sister who works as a court clerk. Maybe she can help us get an emergency no contact order against your father. At least that way, if Dwayne does get out and shows up, you can call the cops and say a crime is being committed just by having him in eyesight,” Elisabeth said conspiratorially. “And if I’m not mistaken, I believe an issued NCO would automatically put him in violation of his parole.”

  “But wouldn’t he have to be served the papers so he’d know he wasn’t allowed to come near me?” I asked, a little worried.

  Who’d have the unfortunate task of meeting Dwayne Bishop face to face and serving him?

  “Yes, he’d need to be served. But as long as we can get the NCO before he leaves Folsom Prison, we’ll know where to locate him to have him served. And that might even be enough to keep him there longer! I’ll call Bradley in a bit and ask him to help us.

  I think they usually grant a temporary NCO until a court date can be established for both parties to plead their case. Either way, you’d have a temporary one. I think having my grandfather and Bartholomew listed as supporting parties too might help speed things up. I just don’t know. And if he gets out of prison, you should still file the NCO just in case,” Elisabeth said.

  “What does that mean exactly? He can’t come near me?” I asked. “It sounds like a good idea, but how can a piece of paper protect me? It only protects you if the person who is served the no-contact order obeys it and respects the law. Dwayne doesn’t respect anyone or anything but himself.”

  “True, but it means if he contacts you in any way, either in person, by phone, or by mail, directly or indirectly, he has committed a crime. A crime that can be reported and he can be arrested for. Normally, as long as all he did was break the no contact order and nothing else at the time of his arrest, it is considered a misdemeanor. However, three strikes and it’s a felony with prison time again,” she answered blandly.

  “Well, three encounters with him would be three too many,” I said. “One would even be too many.”

  “I agree. “But hopefully in this case, just issuing the temporary NCO will put him in non-compliance and get him locked back up. And if not, it is a legal way of tracking his pattern and possibly locking him up again, which keeps him off the streets, unable to harm other people, and most importantly, unable to harm you. If my grandpa and Bartholomew can’t put a stop to his early release, we need some sort of backup plan from a legal point of view,” she said with a crease in her brow that showed the heaviness of her thoughts. She sighed and added quietly, “Until we can gather evidence against him for his other crimes, that might be our best starting point.”

  Yes. His other crimes. Murdering my mother and my sister. Beating and raping them like he had Jill. And probably many others.

  “I know. We have to stop him. One way or another. But legally and through the justice system or it won’t stick.” I sat up straight with determination.

  Elisabeth mirrored me and smiled. “It will be all right. You’ll see. It will,” she said passionately.

  I was trying so hard to believe her.

  Moment of Truth

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elisabeth stood up and stretched to extend her arms far above her and threw her head back, exposing a long line of neck. Her mouth was open in a wide, unrestrained yawn, and her eyes were squeezed shut in the gratification of the combined movement.

  I mirrored her from my sitting position on the bed without a conscience thought. I was beat. The conversation had lasted most of the night, and I couldn’t think of a single thing I had intentionally left out other than the mysterious book I had found that first night and the embossed lion’s head that would emerge and then vanish to leave my hand smooth and unblemished whenever I was holding the book.

  My eyes were burning and I rubbed my puffy eyes with my closed fists and then begrudgingly opened them.

  “Oh, look,” Elisabeth said as she walked lazily to the window. “The sun is coming up. It must be around 6:20 or so in the morning.” She pushed my curtain aside and glanced down at the sleeping street below. “Come take a look. The colors are amazing.
”

  “You know what time the sun rises in November? Aren’t you usually still in bed until at least seven thirty?” I asked, skeptical.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when the sun rises. Haven’t you ever looked at a sunset and sunrise calculator chart before?” she asked with a tone that said she doubted I had ever even heard of one.

  “Do I look like at brainiac nerd who reads sky charts or whatever when I’m hung up in the bathroom?” I teased. Elisabeth beamed and shrugged with an I’ll-never-tell expression on her face.

  “Ah. Well, I guess you do. Now I know what to get you for Christmas this year. The nerd’s bathroom journal.” I got up and walked toward her.

  Elisabeth laughed and pointed to the clock beside my bed. I glanced at my alarm clock too. It read 6:21 a.m.

  “Hey! What a minute. Did you cheat? Did you look at the clock before you made your smarty-pants remark about the time?” I asked, highly suspicious.

  “Would I do that?” she asked, chuckling.

  “Hmm… Yeah,” I said sarcastically.

  Elisabeth was still chuckling as I came up beside her and pushed the curtain near me to the side to look out at the sky. The sun was breaking over the distant horizon to paint the sky in a spreading wash of heavenly watercolors containing a blushing pink, butter-cream yellow, and a stunning shade of violet.

  I sighed and leaned against the window frame. What beauty. And some people still think there is no God? I just couldn’t understand that.

  “I want to go to bed and sleep the day away now, but I probably shouldn’t miss class today,” Elisabeth said as she rubbed her lower back and leaned backward a little to extend into a deeper stretch.

  “I hear you. I have two classes this morning too, and then I’m going to go help David clean up the restaurant.” I gave her a shy smile.

  “Well, that ought to be interesting after last night. But don’t worry. He seemed to have recovered himself rather quickly for nearly being taken by force and then confronted by a demigod. Besides, I have a feeling it’d take a lot more than that to scare him off,” Elisabeth said consolingly with a knowing little smirk on her face.

  “Demigod? Like in Greek legend?” I asked, taken aback and also deliberately choosing to ignore her bated comment about not being able to scare off David.

  “Well, no, not really. I just meant Jared was definitely more than human but less than a true demon. He almost reminds me of a—” Elisabeth broke off with a spark in her eye, her mouth slightly open into a little O shape. She had completely stopped herself from saying whatever she had thought of.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “Hmm. Nothing. Just…thought of something,” she said evasively.

  “What?” I asked again. My voice had grown stronger this time out of my frustration of not being told what had sparked in her fabulous mind. I knew that look. It said she had figured something out, way ahead of me, as always. What had she thought of?

  “Can you make it over to Cal State today for my afternoon lecture at two o’clock?” Elisabeth asked me unexpectedly.

  “Maybe, why? I thought you wanted to sleep the day away?” I asked, still lost.

  “I can’t. Wish I could, but if I get behind, it will be nearly impossible to get the class caught back up. This particular lecture always brings out a lot of discussion and excitement from the students. I love this part.”

  “But why do you want me to come? Does it have to do with what you just thought of and are deliberately not telling me?” I asked, annoyed.

  Elisabeth nodded silently.

  “Well, that clears that up a ton. Thanks for that,” I mumbled.

  “I’m going to go change into my workout clothes and go for a run to get the most out of being up this early. I’ll be back in about half an hour,” she said, changing the conversation 180 degrees on me.

  “Are you nuts? You haven’t even had any sleep!” I said, amazed at her strength of will and annoyed at her ability to avoid my questions.

  “Sleep, sheep. Mind over matter, young one. Mind over matter,” Elisabeth said, tapping the side of her temple. She walked away toward my bedroom door.

  “When you collapse on the street, call me. I’ll come scrape you up,” I said lightly.

  “Will do,” she called back over her shoulder and waved her hand behind her at me as if to wave good-bye.

  “I appreciate you not asking me to join you. Knew the answer would be hell no, did ya?” I called back.

  I heard her laugh before her bathroom door closed with a little click.

  I looked around my room for a moment as if I could find some answer as to whether I should try to get an hour of sleep or just stay up too.

  “Ah, screw it.” I mumbled.

  I dragged myself to my hall bathroom and did my business, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I looked at myself in the mirror. Yes, I looked sleep deprived, and my eyes were red and puffy. But other than that, I looked okay. Better than okay, actually. I could almost see the weight of my secrets lifted from my shoulders. It felt so refreshingly good to have it all out and nothing hidden away that didn’t need to be kept secret.

  I knew my best friend was the only one I could entrust my burdens with. I knew she was an active listener. Active because she wouldn’t just listen intently, but she’d do anything she could to help me and she’d tell me the hard truths. I didn’t feel alone in it anymore. I knew God was with me and his angels he had sent to watch over me, but I had a human partner I could lean on too. It meant a lot to me.

  I was pulled from my thoughts as I felt a tingle and a stretching itchy sensation on my left palm and turned my hand over. The lion face was starting to press outward.

  “Oh,” I breathed. I pressed down on it, unsure as to what to do with it. Why was it doing this now? I wasn’t even near the book!

  It started to burn with little tingling pricks now, as though it meant to claw it’s way out of my hand one whisker at a time.

  Go to the book. It’s time.

  I heard the voice whisper through the room like a warm breeze. It touched my face and ruffled my hair on the back of my head to send chills down my spine and my arms. I glanced into the mirror, almost expecting to see someone or something other than my own reflection moving past me.

  “Bye, Mel. See you in a bit,” Elisabeth called from outside my bathroom door.

  “Kay!” I said jumping, my voice a little too high-pitched.

  Elisabeth didn’t respond. I listened to her bounce down the stairs with an energy only she could extract at six thirty in the morning with no sleep.

  I cracked open the bathroom door and listened. I could hear the distant sounds of the front door opening and being locked behind her.

  My left hand jerked with an electric shock that ran from the center of my palm all the way through to my elbow. I glanced down at my hand and saw the lion’s head making a silent roar from the center of my palm. Its face was fully pressed outward now, no longer a shadow of what lay beneath.

  I stood in utter amazement at the three-dimensional detail now visible. I could hardly recognize that it was my skin that clad the lion head in what appeared to be moving fur, whiskers, twitching ears, and sharp, pointy teeth. I could even see the tongue inside the head as it roared once more, in silent protest to my less than desirable speedy reaction to its demand for me to go find the book and place it on the lock where it belonged.

  Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes. Maybe a few minutes more if I was lucky, and Liz stopped to stretch at the park down the street on her way back.

  I ran to my bedroom. A growing sense of excitement and a healthy dose of the fear of God washed through me. I slid through my bedroom door and skidded to a stop. I turned and locked my door behind me and slid the chain lock at the top into place. I even grabbed my night table and carefully scooted it over to rest halfway in front of the door.

  I had to be cautious just in case Elisabeth happened to come home early from her run. I�
�d need to have some sort of warning since I may not be able to hear the front door opening again if I got sucked into whatever was about to happen when I opened the book. At least, I would hear her knocking on my door if she came to check on me. Maybe she’d think I was sleeping and leave me alone. Either way, I wanted to have some kind of blockade.

  I scanned my room, and my eyes rested on my open window curtain. I walked quickly over, lowered my blinds and closed them tight, and pulled my curtains closed. No one would be able to see into my room now. Not by accident or on purpose.

  Now where had I put that book? I turned back to my room and gazed around. I didn’t have a clear memory of where I had hidden it. I had been unconscious the entire time Michael the Archangel had transported me home that night. I had an emerging fuzzy memory of being stirred awake and instructed to hide the book in a safe place and to tell no one where it was. But where had I put it!

  “Where are you?” I mumbled.

  My hand jerked again. And I felt an invisible tug yanking on it as though a fishing hook had been stick into my hand and was reeling me in toward it. There. It was in there.

  I ran to my closet and opened the door. I pushed the hanging raincoat, thigh-length leather jacket and unused dresses over to the right until my clothes couldn’t squeeze together any tighter. I dropped to my knees and dragged out my congested shoe rack and hastily set it behind me. I turned and dived back in and hesitated as I saw my lime-green suitcase against the back wall. I pulled on it and started to drag it forward. The suitcase felt heavier than I remembered it being the last time I had stuck it in here. The book had to be in here.

  A thrill went through me as the tugging in my hand stopped abruptly, and I realized this was it. I dragged the suitcase out of the closet the rest of the way very gently. I pulled it over to the center of the room and laid it carefully on its side, afraid to disturb the book. I sat down in front of it, my hand resting on the cover. I could feel a tingle gently vibrating the case as though a mild electric current was running through it.