Thankful for a College Break!

Wow. That's a good connotative word. It means I am amazed about something. I'm amazed that it's actually Thanksgiving break. How many times have I written just for fun since I began college this semester?

Probably four times. Maybe five if I think back really far.

I think I told you what on earth I'm doing miles away from home, but if not, I'll refresh you. My major is Print Journalism. Changed my minor from music to Spanish. That just means I'll get to study abroad in Spain in a couple years. Wow - though, that seems so... far off. College always felt far off. This BREAK felt far off. My roomie sticky-tacked numbers up on the door for every day until Thanksgiving break. We weren't very faithful about peeling off a number every day. By the 30 days-till mark about half the numbers had fallen off the door, so we never could anticipate the break properly. All I know is the day before my roommate was to go home, I woke up to the sound of her laughter.

My roommate NEVER laughs at 8 in the morning. I always take care around her when she rolls out of bed. So on Tuesday I woke up to - not the sound of my alarm - but to the shocking sound of my roommates laughter. Apparently all my roomies were excited to be leaving me behind and traveling home.

I did not travel home. Plane tickets are ridiculous. Redeemingly, I have a cousin in the area who has been more than happy to pick me up and get me off campus. I'm at her house now -- on her computer. At school we can't access much online besides google and our campus web mail. Stinks, but - eh - I get more done without these blissful distractions.

The first day I stepped foot on college campus, I had to literally TELL myself I am a college student. I was hardly cool and collected as I registered for classes and found them all at the right times. I was one of those wide-eyed things.

My job is cool. It's one of those 'center of the campus' jobs so I get to meet alot of people. I serve Chinese food.

I've struggled most with History of Civ -- one of those supposedly 'straight-memorization' classes. It's one of those classes that takes not so much brains but TIME to master. Unfortunately for my dear professor, I am not the kind to dedicate 2 hours to reading the book every night. I think college is all about adjusting how you study, though. I'm studying differently, and now I think I have about a B. That far surpasses the F and D+ I had at the beginning of the semester. Hahaha - victory!

So I'm a pretty average student. Very focused. Seemingly boring - but nah, I learn to have fun. There's plenty of time for that if you make time.

The key is - don't procrastinate, don't over-stress, and keep a balance in everything. Also another thing stepping on campus taught me was - wow - I am so inadequate. Do you remember getting that wake up call? I'm full of passion but have this undeveloped skill and I'm a nobody lol!! So I definitely need my relationship with God, cuz He knows the plan He has for me and I'm not really worried about the future. He has it under control.

I've made a lot of friends - especially guys lol. I'm not like a girl big into dating, but I have a brother at college so I generally go to lunch with him and his friends. I feel comfortable with them and they accept me as 'the sister'. Nice, huh?

Thanksgiving makes me thankful for God's direction in my life. It's amazing what kind of people He's brought into my life and the friends he has given me. I don't know I'm just glad I'm not all alone in this thing. There's alot I've learned and alot more I have to learn -- but that's what is so exciting about life.

UG. This is sappy. Sorry.

Well, I'll stop now. Let you get back to life. If you want to contact me, email my school email!

asanf725@students.bju.edu

I miss so many of my friends back home -- old customers and friends and family! I can't wait to see and hear from you guys again! I'll undoubtedly look forward to your lengthy emails. ;)

-andi

Possibilites

This is a day full of possibilites. Ever thought about what that really means?

It means those mechanics across the sunny morning rush of taffic might somehow cross my path today , and their gray overalls might become intricately connected with my blue Pot Belly shirt in this social circle of life.

Ever thought about how many chance encounters we experience in any one given day?

There were the countless cars of purposeful people we passed only minutes ago (we being my mother and I). My dear mother patted her highly-piled hair and dropped me off at Caribou Coffee, so I could properly enjoy my remaining hour before work.

I am so in love with these wooden tables and this bitter, heavily-sugared coffee. I am in love with the two police officers drinking ocffee near the door that gave me "the nod" when I entered, and the younger one that gave me a smile of appreciation. Well, it was either appreciation, or he found it amusing that I opened the door, felt a sneeze coming, shut the door and waited, sneezed, and then entered my favorite, as of yet uncontaminated, coffee shop.

$1.73. That's worth this atmosphere, wouldn't you say? But enough of me. I'm taking away all the mystery of this random blogging & coffee morning. What a wonderful way to begin the morning, though! Celebrate the last day I work at Pot Belly. I honestly don't know that I'll miss it too much. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to soar on these unknown clouds to the Jazzy tunes of the '20's. Past or future... I don't care where I go!

I wish I could describe something unique. As it is, in my effort to obtain privacy, I am in the corner of this Caribou Coffee place all by myself, left to the checker marks on the high wooden table, the rush of sunny traffic out the window to my right, and the spectacularly clean window directly in front of me which looks out on...parking lot. lol.

A young boy just waddled up, and with him a significantly chubbier, younger, and more clueless little boy you will never see. I say clueless because it took him 5 minutes to look up at me and stare curiously, whereas the other, more persceptive boy has been watching me with open curiosity upon sighting me.

Beyond a smile and a 'hi', I'm ignoring them both, because the worst thing is befriending a strangers' children. Why? Because when the stranger finally arrives (which she just did) she would naturally be suspicious of her children's new found friend. But... maybe that's just my own paranoia. Maybe it's what I automatically think of other people who are friendly with strangers. I'm suspicious. I'm thinking "Where's your motive? What do you have to gain? What do YOU want? Who do you think you are?" I don't know why I always put myself through such drama. I'm so used to being behind a counter when I talk with strangers, that I'm slightly uncertain of what people want from me/think of me when I can't give them food. I have no REASON to talk to them. So why should I put myself through something unnecessary when I'm not even certain they will WANT to talk to me?

Thus, our social circles continue to be intricately combined, but thinly separated by a certain sense of individual pride. I, like many people, am prone to find a private corner, and observe life from a distance... imagining myself in it... imagining myself as that middle-aged mother who watches her children and answers their pertinent toy questions, beginning with a "Yes, hon," when they cry, "Mama," helpless of solving their own simple problems.

I can't imagine such a responsibility. CHILDREN. How does one answer every question and love them supremely above all else? The latter seems inevidably eaiser. No? Yes?

My parents always pointed me to the Bible. That was the answer to... everything. And if the answer wasn't written clearly, there was always some applicable principle. I suppose even now that teaching guides me. I see myself in the reflection and know I am similar to all these people rushing with places to go, and yet... I am different. Different from them ALL. Somehow I must know and understand myself in order to understand random people. People keep to themselves because it's easier. At least, these are the people I know up north. I don't know. Do people change as one goes south of this land?

I do believe people change according to their environment. Not always. But there is a change in people when they are faced with different circumstances. Like this coffee shop. It makes me sentimental. And yet, I've always had a POTENTIAL for sentiments within me. This place, a pen, and paper, just reveal and document it.

* NOTE * This entry was written on Wednesday, August 27, my last day of work at Pot Belly (thank you, God), and just 3 days before I leave for college. I fly down south on the 30th and say goodbye to cold, drafty, northern winter, and HELLO to rainy, muggy, warmer weather. ;) I have mixed feelings about it all... even I cannot decipher what it is I am thinking about.... COLLEGE. It seems big and looming and mean. Everyone just keeps telling me it's so humiliating to be a freshman, and you know what I said? TOUGH. Every one there was a freshman at one point. The only thing that separates them from me and it, is time. Same with 7th grade. Wasn't highschool a little frightening to enter into, too? And what about kindergarten? I don't remember having any fears, but I hear it's a terror to begin school for the first time EVER. So I've gotten this far. I figure I'll make it. Might even have fun. ;) Anyways, I'm sure I'll talk to you guys later before I leave. Been kinda busy, as you might guess. If you want to contact me, feel free to comment here, or email me at countrygirlstyle@gmail.com. I will do what I can to filter through my stalkers, and reply to those of you who are good, upstanding people who just happen to read my... very long blog. ;) No, seriously, though. Thanks for reading.

Fit for a King

All right. Since I delivered that hate speech for Best Buy in my last entry, I want to renew your faith in humanity by sharing my delightful Burger King experience with you.
Just kidding. No, actually I do want to talk about the great customer I received at Burger King, but it gets more interesting than just ‘I liked’ or ‘I hated’ the service.
On a whim as my stomach was growling today, I realized it had been years since I had had a Jumbo Burger at Burger King and I got a sudden penchant for one.
“Let’s go to Burger King,” I suggested to my brother.
“You’re treating?”
“Absolutely! It’s Burger King - how expensive can it be?”
After I argued with Jon that going through the drive-through was fruitless and would take too long, I convinced my brother to park his little white car, and I put all of my shopping purchases in the trunk (since I considered the Burger King to be “junky”).
Once inside, memories of being a young child and looking up at the HUGE Jumbo Burger signs came flowing back to me. At about 4 ft. tall, the dewy lettuce on the burger looked positively life-like, and the juicy tomato seemed to be nigh unto slipping off the burger and falling atop me. The Burger King I used to go to also had a train that was attached to the top of the wall and the train would “chug-chug-choo-choo” around the entire restaurant. That was really cool. Mind you, it was even cooler, because my parents would rarely let us go out to fast-food because my Mom was (and is) what you call “a good southern, home-cook”. We had home-style meals. Back then, I thought it was a curse from God. Now I can see it was actually a good thing.
So as I ordered, the woman at the cash register was helping someone else out by getting them a cold coffee drink. She winked, “This here’s really good stuff. I made it fresh this morning and it’s better than the other cold coffee across the street. It tastes like chocolate milk and it’s so creamy; I love it.” She then poured it out of a clear pitcher for the lady and I could practically hear the cream as it swished into the glass.
What I loved about the homely woman behind the counter was the fact that she was talking to us like she had known us forever. She was giving her honest opinion, and one could tell just by the skip in her step that she was happy, determined, and full of life. I liked her. She wasn’t over-doing it and she wasn’t annoying. She just WAS. She seemed happy with herself and she could find humor and delight in little things.
As I got my own ‘cold Jo coffee’ (I couldn‘t resist it), whopper jr, etc. and found my seat, I looked around me and noticed that almost everybody in the store was old. They were all chomping on their burgers with their gums and looking around through bifocals. Strangely, I found it comforting. Too many young people my age these days are annoying to be around. I am one young person who will admit for my generation that we tend to be self-focused, we have lost sight of what the work-ethic is (in other words, we want money for doing nothing), and we are very impressionable when it comes to pier pressure. Most people my age hate old people. But I like them. They’re cute. And sometimes they’re really interesting when they start telling stories and stuff. Growing up my parents drilled into me, “respect your elders!”, and I’d say that’s a pretty good policy to have. How shallow is it, anyways, to look down on someone just because they happen to have lived longer than me? So for that reason, I don’t understand a lot of people my age. After all, how would I feel if a little 13 year old came up to me and said, “Screw you!”? I’d get up in that little kids face and ask him where his parents are PRETTY fast.
ANYWAYS, I’m enjoying getting off subject, lol. Jonny’s chicken fries looked really pathetic so I offered to get him a couple more burgers (you know how it is with fast food), and went up and ordered them. As the lady charged me a whopping $2.11, I told her frankly (not gushingly at all), “You know, you have really good customer service.”
Her face got just like mine has gotten when I’ve been told that before. “Oh, really?” She seemed so encouraged and she said matter-of-factly, “The guy two guys back wouldn’t have said that.”
“Well, some people are idiots,” I said staunchly, and then suddenly noticing that there were a couple of guys beside me still waiting for their food. Oops.
An older black man with fine little white curls of hair and good sized glasses was standing behind me in line, and said, “Well, I wouldn’t say it, either.”
I could tell he was joking and turned to him and said, “Shame on you!”
He clarified, “I was going to say, you have SUPER customer-service!”
I laughed and so did she as she got his order. As I stood there waiting for order ‘179’, I heard the black guy to my right make a joke about something being like Brett Favre leaving the Packers. I thought his joke didn’t make any sense and so I thought, ‘obviously the guy doesn’t know much about football’.
He saw the way I looked and said to me, “You don’t watch football, do you?” It wasn’t a question. It was like he KNEW.
I shrugged. “Actually, the only team I’ll watch is the Packers, but since Favre is gone now, I don’t know if I want to watch them.”
He had a loud voice and guffawed, “Aww - you can’t do that! No, no, no.” He pulled up his sweatshirt so I could see his ‘Lakers’ fanny pack and insisted, “You gotta pick a team and stick with them! I’ve been with the Los Angeles Lakers for 17 years straight now.”
I was interested in the conversation now, and looked at him, surprised by this strangers absolute calm and good-natured-ness. “So, what do you think about Favre leaving the Packers and going to the Jets?”
“I think,” he said emphatically, his words all ready chosen, “I think that it doesn’t matter whether Favre is with the Packers. He’s maybe not chosen the best way of leaving, but the Packers are still worth watching.”
“But,” I said, quoting something I had once heard, “Think about how the Packers were doing before Brett Favre came along. To me, Packers is Brett Favre, and Favre is Packers.” My brother had a good joke that on the Packers timeline, it would have to read “BF” AND “AF” (“Before Favre” and “After Favre”). I was going to insert this joke, but he charged ahead passionately.
“Where was Brett Favre when Vince Lombardi was running the team?”
“Training,” I guessed decisively.
He repeated his question and I said the same thing and then knew I must be wrong.
“You still don’t have the right answer.“ He scoffed, “You don’t know football, do you?”
“I only admitted to watching an occasional game. All right. I confess! I am a sentimental fan!”
“Well, at least you confess to it, that’s something,” he laughed. I got my order then and called, “Thank you!”
He waved, “Have a good weekend.”
“Y’too!” I said laughingly, and Jon and I trucked out of the old Burger King. I heaved myself into the car and laughed to myself.
“Why are you laughing?” Jon asked.
“I just like that Burger King. Why has it taken us so long to discover that place? It was virtual gold mine of good-natured people!”
Honestly? The whoppers weren’t that great. It was the atmosphere that made it.

What Money Can Buy

I am livid. (Why is this blog always about me, you're probably wondering.) (Well, tough. This is my blog.) Even now my fingers are curling into imaginary cat claws and I want to pound this desktop. Why am I livid? (That's probably you're next question.) Well, I've just been to Best Buy. That should explain things nicely.

I've entitled this article 'What Money Can Buy' because right now I HATE money (and the title sounded cool). No matter what I want to get, I go into best buy (it doesn't even deserve the respect of being capitalized) and some shiny-faced geek squad guy tells me that's NOT what I want. What I WANT is... $$$$. In other words every single guy in their tight little blue shirts will look me up and down, decide I don't know a THING (which admittedly technology is not my strong suit), and try to sell me $500 above my price range. WE COLLEGE STUDENTS HAVE A PRICE RANGE FOR A REASON.

"Yes, well, even for college, this camera is crash proof, burn proof, scratch proof, erosion proof..."
"And this computer you're looking at? No it doesn't come in the color Green. It comes in BLACK. We have an even better model over here that's comparative in price (only $300 more) and.... What? Does it come in green? Well, no."

See, I bought two things today. A digital camera, and a laptop computer. These are big purchases: things I have agonized over and put off because I am SO incredibly indecisive. Finally, though, I DECIDED. I had three qualifications for my computer that would make me quite happy.

1) It must be a nice color (or at least cute)
2) I must like the way it types
3) It must be cheap

There. Simple enough. So, the very first time I broached computer shopping in Best Buy, a thin, awkward guy talked my modest $500 dollar budget up to $2000. According to him, not only did I NEED a $1000 computer, but I would need about $1000 more in software, warranty, etc. (everything that would make me happy).

Fact is, I am made HAPPY by VERY SIMPLE things!!! All I need is a word processor! (scream)

It AMAZES me that I can walk into a LARGE, SEEMINGLY SUCCESSFUL business, and be swarmed by loping blue dudes who all tell me something different that I NEED every time I come in. So today I DECIDED... I'm gonna buy the $500 black Dell computer, and get a nice cute little Red Kodak camera. There. Decisions made. I will take my Dad with me so he can help (actually I can't drive without him yet.)

Getting the computer was easy enough, because they only had 4 left in stock and the guy seemed eager to get rid of them. Still...maybe I wasn't the most teachable technology-idiot there ever was, but I found it annoying how the guy kept wiping his nose and telling me stuff like,"uh, no, that flash drive's not what you want. Here's one for a little bit more money that's much better."

My question is, if all of the cheap, affordable produts are so retarded, then WHY does BEST BUY STOCK THEM?

Okay. Teachable technology spirit. I bought the more expensive, 4 Gig flash drive.

"Okay, and I want that camera."
"That one? That one right there?"
"Yes. And it comes in the red, right?"
"R-right... but, well let me get a camera guy to help here."
The guy then ducked his head into his shirt collar as though he were speaking into a hidden mike, "Hey, yeah, could I get help in the photography department?"

As summoned, a guy who had been standing about three feet away loped up and said, "Yeah, what are you guy's looking at? WHAT can I HELP you with?"

I pointed to my camera and said very precisely, "I'd like to get this camera, please."
He looked at it, looked at me, and then started talking to my DAD about other camera's I might like. Another best buy guy came up and soon there were two or three guys, with their heads calmly cocked to the side, telling my DAD what I should buy. My Dad was asking them questions about battery power, and they were saying, "Yes, I definitely would tell her to get an extra battery. In fact, the two year warranty is only $30 more. Not bad, not bad at all." I WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE!!! They were talking like I wasn't even there! So, I went and sat with my computer at the check-out desk and watched these people from a distance. What is their PROBLEM? I'M buying the stuff. NOT my Dad! I all ready came in like FIVE times and got dozens of geeks ADVICE, and then there they stand telling my Dad to get ME to get something I DON'T WANT. I'm not joking, my Dad asked questions that were completely unimportant (like, "what size screen is this... exactly?") and those idiots swarmed around him and answered his questions. I was THIS close to walking over and getting in their face and sounding very deadly, "GIVE it to me. Just give me the CHEAP KODAK THAT IS RED AND CUTE!" I don't curse, but I'm sure I would have found SOME way to use strong language.

Finally, it seemed like the bucket had run dry and the photo guy was finding a little bit less to talk about, so I walked over and stood there calmly. Seething. Waiting. He turned to me and flashed a fat smile, "Oh, you didn't hear any of that, did you?"

I smiled. Shook my head. Waited.

He laughed. I laughed. Give me the camera. What did he do? He starts REPEATING TO ME what he had told my Dad, about how KODAK is a dumb camera.

I looked him dead in the eye and said innocently, "Well, what's wrong with it?"

"Well, when you're walking and you're taking pictures, you have a tendency to get fuzzy pictures." NO JOKE. That's what he said.

"We've really found that KODAK is more of an old people camera. No young people buy them anymore."

I got my courage up after about 10 minutes more of his speel and said, "Well, actually, I totally understand how you could have a hard time with KODAK, because when I first started using my KODAK I got fuzzy pictures, too. I just had to work on keeping the camera steady. Now I quite like the KODAK camera because I can take good pictures with it."

"Well, that depends on who you're talking to. I mean you might be looking at the pictures and thinking they're good, but someone else may come along and go, 'woa'." NO JOKE! Those were his words EXACTLY. I was like, 'O MY SOUL, HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT.'

I really do have good self control. I did not blow up. I seethed. Right now, this is me blowing up on my blog. I am blowing up through calm, precise words and BIG capital letters. I smiled and said, "Well, you can go help that lady over there, because I'm going to look around for a while anyways."

The minute he loped off, my Dad said, "He really is very knowledgable. I marvel that they have so many knowledgable people at this Best Buy."

I told my Dad through my teeth, "I am getting the KODAK. It's cheaper. It's what I want. It's compatible with my memory cards and my camera case. Could you tell him?"

I went and huffed back to my seat, and then thought, Why am I wimping out and making my DAD tell him MY decision. I'm not ashamed of my decision! So, I got up and went to find the guy myself and saw my Dad standing there with his head cocked apologetically, telling him I was going to go with what I actually wanted. The guy looked at me incredulously, and I shrugged with a winning smile, "I'm sorry. It's really what I want."

He shrugged back, "That's fine. You're the one that's going to have to live with it."

I WANTED TO BE HAPPY ABOUT MY DUMB PURCHASES! And at every turn I'm being told what I want. I'm being told what will make me happy. I got home and threw my stuff on the floor and didn't even want to look at it.

Am I over-reacting??? Eh, probably. I just needed to get all of that out of my system. To Best Buy's credit, there was ONE nice guy who was tall and nice and brought me my camera and teased me about something or other. I think he could tell I was mad. And I RARELY get mad. Generally when I get into debates, I have this other segment to my emotions called PASSIONATE. Even if I SAY I'm mad, I'm generally not. But today. Yes. Mad was what money bought me.

UG. I hate money. I do like my camera, though. ;) SO, something good came of all this mess after all. Maybe I'll go back to Best Buy, and return the things I bought and opened, so I can get the "15% off after opened" discount. Haha. Beat the system. Okay. I just made a joke. That means I'll be okay. I'm not so mad any more. I forgive the poor souls. Man, I really wouldn't want to be them. They have to spend time with EACH OTHER. That would be the worst part of this story. So really, the sympathy all goes to them.

But seriously, someone should sue the Geek Squad.

Kella

May Davis wiped her hands together, watching crumbs of dirt fall to the ground with great satisfaction. She was 39 and still had it. Her flowers were sure to be some of the best on the block. She propped her smudged hands on her hips, and had to laugh to herself that her neighbors probably saw her bent over her garden so much, that they might be tempted to think she was one of those cardboard statues of a bending old lady with a permanent water pot by her feet.
The whistle of the bus’ breaks alerted her, and she knew the neighborhood children would be racing down the smooth black pavement any minute now. She looked up from her garden to wave at young Tommy Lee as he crossed the street.
“Hi, Mrs. Davis!” he called, his chubby face freckling out in a huge smile. He seemed to be especially friendly ever since May had taken fresh chocolate chip cookies over to his house while his mother was in the hospital. The poor dear had cancer.
“Hi, Tommy! Tell your father to call me any time, okay?” She worried that the two would be getting skinny with Mrs. Lee so sick.
Tommy smiled and nodded, “Okay!”
May added cheerfully, “And you feel free to come over whenever you want!”
He paused and then stammered, “Th-thanks. I won’t forget.”
The door to his house slammed shut, and May’s knees cracked as she reached for her garden tools and carried them to the garage. She waved to Lianna, her divorced friend across the street as she hit the shut-garage button. With the garage door closing behind her, she opened the adjoining door into the kitchen, and sighed happily as the air conditioning hit her. The smell of fresh blueberry bread was coursing through the home, and she smiled to herself, knowing it was the sure remedy to get Kella out of bed. The girl was 14 years old and sick 3 weeks before finals. What were the odds?
The dull squeaks of May’s white tennis shoes on the hallway to the bathroom reminded her that she needed to mop the linoleum floor, and take off her old nursing shoes before they got any thing else dirty. She turned on the faucet in the bathroom and began soaping her hands and scrubbing them thoroughly. With the last etch of dirt off, she turned off the water, and let her hands swallow up the soft crème towel on the wall.
It was some times just so nice to live in the peace and quiet of suburban life. There were no disturbances, no noises. Children were taught to be quiet and to scream only if they were hurt. Boys played ball games in the empty field over the hill. May’s ‘Raymond-Red’ lips turned up in a smile.
She turned back to the sink to look in the mirror, and then looked down. The water was running. She thought for sure she had turned it off. May felt perplexed as she twisted the knob firmly to make sure it was off. She looked uncertainly into the mirror, and suddenly shrieked at the face behind her.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, Kella. You scared me.”
Her daughter’s darkly rimmed eyes were rapidly moving back and forth and she didn’t seem to register that her mother was there. She tried to talk, but all that came out was a rasping sound.
“Kella? Are you okay?”
The young girl whimpered and fled from the bathroom.
“Kella!” May ran after her daughter and up the stairs to her bedroom, where the door was promptly slammed in her face. She jiggled the doorknob frantically, and screamed, “Kella, you open this door!! Honey, please! Are you okay? I need to know that you’re okay!”
May jiggled the doorknob again. “Kella!!”
Her eyes were wide and dilated and she was finding it hard to breathe. “Honey, this is really scaring me… I’m – I’ll be right back, sweetie. Wait right there. Please – I’ll be right back!”
May ran downstairs and grabbed the phone and desperately punched out 9-1-1.
“My daughter! She’s locked in her room – I think she’s having a stroke or something. I can’t… I can’t – okay, I’m calm. But my daughter, you need to hurry.”
15 minutes later, paramedics arrived and neighbors gathered out on their lawns to see what was going on as the fire truck wailed onto the street and clutched the curb sharply. Firemen broke down the door and found 14 year old Kella Davis face down on the ground. Just out of the stretch of her hands, was a book. A paramedic felt for her pulse and yelled, “Negative. I am not reading a pulse.”
O, God, no, no. Lianna held onto May tightly as the police gave her the news. Kella was dead. The paramedics cleaned up the scene, and a forensic team was called out to dispose of the body and collect any clues to her death. Included in the gathered evidence, one man was assigned to plastic-wrap the book that had been clutched in the girls’ hands. The man frowned and narrowed his eyes at the title; The Psychology of Abnormal People.
Two weeks later. Day 1.
Chloe Myers had long brown hair that was streaked with red highlights and no matter how she fixed it, she always managed to make it look professional. She was the only girl Eddie Juliani knew that could make a ponytail look good. Eddie sat at his desk, fiddling with his mouse, and couldn’t help himself from glancing over at Chloe’s desk. She was the prettiest cop Eddie had ever seen.
“Having trouble with your screen there, boy?”
Eddie jumped and cleared his throat to find Investigator Nick Warren over his shoulder.
“Eh, no. Why?”
Nick smirked. “It’s not on.”
Eddie looked down nervously and said, “Would you like me to turn it on, sir?”
Nick nodded with mock seriousness. “Now…would be a good time.”
Eddie watched him leave, despising the way he said good morning to Chloe, and the way he swaggered into his office to meet files and papers with an all-important, sweeping gaze. The door shut behind him with a decided click, and Eddie hit his computer start up button with a decided jab. Eddie could see through the open blinds as Nick sat down at his desk with a sigh, and called for Chloe on his phone. He had just passed Chloe, and now he was calling her on his phone, like a stupid nincompoop who couldn’t just talk through the non-important, old-fashioned method of face-to-face.
Eddie saw Chloe’s eyes roll into her head, as she rolled back her secretary chair and grabbed for the phone on her desk. “Yes, Nick?”
She sounded so sweet, but it did Eddie’s heart good to see that she was annoyed. She was a cop with a desk job. Kind of like a lot of the people in the room where Eddie worked. Eddie liked his job enough, but he was a desk-rookie. The real work, like investigating murders and breaking the papers on high executives, wouldn’t come for several more years. He narrowed his eyes at the ‘Welcome’ on his blue screen, and shifted to look back at Nick’s office. He was still on the phone with Chloe.
30 minutes later, Eddie found himself busy with his usual day of work. A steaming cup of coffee was to his left, and a stack of traffic tickets were to his right. He became absorbed in his work, his fingers typing more rapidly than his mind was working, when Nick suddenly appeared behind him.
“Edison,” he barked.
Eddie jumped and reached out to hold onto his coffee as it sloshed onto his blue post-its.
“The names Eddie, actually.”
Nick laughed. “I don’t care. 15 minutes. In my office.”
Eddie stared after him as he returned to his office, where Chloe and some lawyer woman he had not noticed, entered with him. Chloe was holding a stack of files, and the lawyer woman stood looking slightly ruffled, as Nick nonchalantly lit a cigar. Eddie stood hesitantly, not wanting to go into the office and be made a fool by Warren. Forcing himself to swallow his inner-pride, he walked over to the door and rapped quickly on it. Chloe opened the door for him, the stack of files tucked under her left arm. A sweep of her hair fell in front of her hazel eyes and her full lips sent him a small smile. Eddie’s eyes paused helplessly on Chloe’s face.
“Thank-”
“Edison! Can you pay attention to ME, when I call you?”
Eddie cleared his throat, turned to Nick, and gave a tight smile. “What was it that you wanted, sir?”
“Right. Can you take these files from Miss Myers,” he said gesturing to Chloe, “and put all of these names into the computer? Can you do that for me?”
Eddie looked at him haltingly, “What names did you want-”
Chloe held out the files to Eddie and he dreaded taking them, for fear his hands would brush hers, and he’d make a fool of himself.
“What names do you THINK I want? The names of the people filing reports, the names of people involved in the reports, the names of the officers who will be investigating the reports. I just want these out of my office.”
The lawyer woman spoke up, a file of her own in her hands, “But, Mr. Warner,”
“It’s Warren.”
“Mr. Warren, that’s not the issue here. I am here on behalf of my client who doesn’t just want this report filed. She wants it investigated. And not later, after it’s gone through some desk clerk. She wants it finalized now. I am her lawyer, and I am ready to press charges if you cannot at least produce an autopsy on the body of her daughter to provide some closure.”
Nick looked at her. Eddie could tell just by the way he looked at her, that he wanted to sneer at her pert little office suit-pants and throw her file out the window of a tall building.
“I am BUSY. Take it to another investigator.”
Eddie took that moment to speak up, “Um, actually, sir, I’m busy, too. And while I would love to help you out, I don’t know that I’ll be able to process the normal trafficking tickets along with all of these files.”
Nick did take the liberty to sneer at Eddie, and was about to speak when the lawyer woman clipped out, “I cannot take it to another investigator. I was specifically told that your branch would be the one to handle this type of case. I dislike that you would turn this over to a desk clerk-”
“Eddie isn’t a desk clerk.” This came from Chloe.
Eddie looked at her curiously, as did Nick.
“He’s a full-time cop, just like I am. We have all of the qualifications. We’re just behind desks.”
The lawyer woman ignored Chloe and turned to Nick.
“Mr. Warren. I was told specifically-”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick shushed her with a wave of his hand and turned his attention to Eddie.
“You pass cop school with good grades?”
Eddie’s eyebrows turned up and he nodded, “Sir, I have a 4.0, it’s in your records.”
Nick laughed, “Like I ever read those.”
The lawyer woman narrowed her eyes.
“But…” Nick added, a finger held up in certain harmony, “I would love to have more time to read them, and merely need to be freed up from some of these cases. It would seem that this young lady wants some finality, and I think we would both agree that Edison here is a qualified cop.” He turned to the lawyer woman, “Would you do some resting of that pretty head as long as I put a qualified cop on the job?”
The lawyer woman thought about it. “But, would I-”
“Or you could wait another 4 or 5 months for me to get through the proper protocol of cases before I would legally run into trouble and have to process this case.”
The pant-suited woman paused, her eyes disapprovingly on Eddie, and then nodded curtly. “It will give Mrs. Davis closure, and that is what’s she’s paying me for.” She click-clicked her heels over to Eddie and handed him the file with her contact card on top.
“Any questions,” she pronounced crisply as she covered a number with her red index claw, “you call this number.”
She smiled briskly at the room, and click-clicked to the door.
“I’ll be in touch,” she called, her words echoing through Eddie’s mind with more precision than that of her shoes echoing through the hallway toward the elevator.
Chloe turned to Nick, extending the files towards him, “So do you want me to-?”
Nick waved them back. “I’ll get to it. I’ll get to it.” Then he turned a deep smile on her and finished, “Just file them for now, would you, doll?”
Eddie saw the muscles clenching in Chloe’s jaw and began to feel excitement that she might actually blow up at Nick Warren in his office, with files spewed all over his desk. But she smiled coolly and took the files up, gave Eddie the tiniest of smiles, and walked out.
Eddie stood there, surrounded by the smell of cigar smoke, and ready to gag from the latest twist in his day.
“Sir, I appreciate the honor-“
“Save it.”
“No, I appreciate that you chose-“
“Do we really have to go through this? I’m a nice guy. I already know that. But don’t get all appreciative on me. I don’t want to be mucking around in a room of dead bodies to get an autopsy on some girl who probably killed herself. It really doesn’t interest me. Now this,” Nick pulled out his lowest filing drawer and then shut it really fast as though he were keeping in every shred of top-secret that he could, “This is big stuff. This is what you work towards, Edison. Just consider this you’re big cut. I wouldn’t have chosen you if you hadn’t been standing there, needing something to do other than gawk at a piece of pretty flesh. So don’t expect any favors. Need any help, ask… well you heard that woman. If you have questions, call that number.”
Nick laughed a little crazily and then looked weirdly in between his smile at Eddie and said, “What are you still doing here?”
Eddie cleared his throat, “I –uh – who will take over my desk job?”
Nick doused his cigar on the desk and laughed, “You will. You can handle it, boy. I know you can. You’ve got it in you. This is a test, Edison. To see if you can handle the stresses of the job. Can you rise to the occasion? Or do you want to be a desk-clerk for the rest of your life? So, go.” Nick shooed at Eddie. “Go work on it. I’m busy.”
Eddie looked down at the file as he opened the door and let it click shut behind him. He didn’t know quite where to go or what to do first. He shuffled over to his desk and sat down. His coffee was still where he left it. The blue post-it notes beside it were soggy. He threw out the post-it notes and on an after thought, pitched the luke-warm coffee as well and sat down, eyeing the blue screen on his computer. He looked back at Chloe, who was typing furiously, her long fingers flying with eyelashes pointed down towards one of Nick’s open files. Then he opened the file.
Davis, Kella. Huh. Kella. Unusual name. He scanned the form, and found that much of the information was missing, including the autopsy records. Eddie looked harder at the form. Why detain an autopsy? He closed the file and slid it into his leather briefcase. The sooner this little second-rate case was solved, the sooner he would be done with it and could get back to working towards a REAL case. Okay, maybe not just a real case. He glanced over at Chloe, wondering if she would accept any help with those files. He stood, hardly believing that he was imagining walking over to her, and actually walked over to her desk.
“Hi, Chloe.” Wow. Easy.
Chloe looked up in surprise at Eddie and a smile lit her face.
“O, hey! Say, I-”The phone rang on Chloe’s desk. She apologized with her eyes, and said, “I have to get this.”
Eddie smiled and reassured her, “That’s okay. Knock ‘em dead.”
As he walked away, he tripped on his own two feet in an effort to kick himself. Had he really just said, ‘knock ‘em dead’? He grabbed his briefcase, trying to look casual as he headed for the door. One glance back at Chloe in front of Nick’s office told him one thing. She was rolling her eyes. Good old Nick.
The playground of Middleton High School was swarming with children who were screaming and playing tag under the slides. Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he reached the doors of the school and felt his breath let out.
“Get out of my way, loser!” A young freckle-faced boy charged out the doors, nearly crashing into Eddie and then zooming like an out-of-control wind-up toy towards the playground.
An older, heavy-set woman stood at the door, hands on her hips, watching the young boy go. She gave a wry smile, and explained, “Detention.” The woman blew a piece of blonde hair out of her eyes and held out a hand to Eddie with a smile, “You look lost. Name’s Lisa Jones. I’m the principal in these parts.”
Eddie gave a relieved laugh and took the hand, “I’m Eddie. Eddie Juliani. I’m here about a girl who used to attend your school.”
Lisa looked at him curiously, arms returning to a comfortable fold at her chest.
Eddie took his wallet from his back pocket and held his identification out earnestly. “I’m with the Greenfield State Police.”
Lisa’s eyes immediately closed up and she clipped, “There is no drug trafficking in this school, Mr. Juliani. Whatever girl used to attend this school is no longer affiliated with us and is none of our concern.”
She turned and walked away from him. Eddie’s eyes widened, and he followed after her, the door clanging shut behind him.
“No, no. You don’t understand. A girl died.”
Lisa continued walking, and waved a hand at him in dismissal.
“Please, Mr. Juliani. I cannot help you.”
Eddie followed her into her office. She passed by her secretary, was handed a fax sheet with a smile, and entered into a separate office with a heavy wooden door. Eddie took in the awards that were on the walls. Athletic awards. Best Policy Awards. Academic awards.
She sat heavily in her chair and folded her hands in front of her.
“Why are you still in my office?”
Eddie turned away from the awards and put his hands on the desk, looking her in the eyes.
“Kella Davis. Age 14. She used to attend this school. 2 weeks ago, she died suddenly. There is no explanation.”
One eyebrow went up, but it was un-impressed.
Eddie continued. “I just went to the lab, and got the autopsy on the body. There are no drugs in her blood. There is no sign of violence or foul play. There are no hereditary disorders that would make her die young. Her heart just stopped. She just died.”
Lisa sighed heavily. “How am I supposed to help you?”
“Do you remember Kella?”
Lisa rested a hand on the fax paper she had laid on her desk and began shifting it back and forth.
“Yes, I do remember Kella. She was…an excellent student.”
Eddie sat down with a crunch in the leather seat opposite hers and took a file from his brown briefcase.
Opening it, he handed her a sheet that he had personally typed up.
“These are the only symptoms I can find that she had before her death. Symptoms are just signs here. If I can find out more signs, it’ll point more clearly to what the real problem was, and help me close this case so we can give the girl’s mother some closure on her daughters’ death. Can you help me?”
Lisa took the paper and read it slowly.
“Rapidly moving eyes… Complaining of sickness… Listlessness? Lack of energy?”
The principal set the paper down and looked at Eddie with humor-creased eyebrows.
“Looks like you’ve just got a regular teen here. I think these symptoms could identify with at least 80 percent of the teens in this school.”
Eddie nodded quickly and said, “You’re right. They’re not very clear symptoms. That’s why I’m here. Did you – or any of the other teachers notice signs that made Kella different… unusual… make her stand out from the other students?”
Lisa shook her head and then paused. “Well, I can say that she was unusually intelligent. Does that help?”
Eddie sighed with frustration. “What other classes was Kella in? Could I speak with some of the children perhaps-”
Lisa shook her head firmly at that and laid the paper on the table quickly. “No, no. I do not want you scaring up the children about a girl that came to this school, was normal just like them, and died without explanation. The children, along with the teens who may have known Kella, don’t need that so close to the end of the school year and final exams.”
Eddie held up a hand in apology and stood, gathering his briefcase a little reluctantly.
“I’m sorry to intrude like this, ma’am. I really am. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this. I’m just not – I’ll admit to you, I’m just not very good at this kind of thing. So if I’ve been bothersome or tactless, I apologize. It’s just… are you sure you don’t know-”
Lisa put her hands on the desk and pushed herself up, silencing him with a shake of her head.
“Please. Stop stuttering… What was your name?”
“Eddie.”
“Eddie. You have a bit of an accent. Are you-”
“My mother was English. I visited her quite frequently in England on summers and holidays.”
“Was?”
Eddie nodded, his lips plastered together in a small, forced smile, “She died last Thanksgiving.”
Lisa tucked a graying hair behind her ear, and came back to him with something of a grandmother’s voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She paused, handing him back the sheet.
“Listen, you’re a rookie, right?”
Eddie grimaced. “It shows pretty clear, doesn’t it?”
Lisa smiled and nodded, looking down. “Listen, the biggest thing I can tell you is that most of the kids here don’t know Kella. Even the moment of silence we had here for her was met with a cold lack of emotion. Kella wasn’t very good with people. She could read like a whiz. She tested like a genius. But when it came to people, she was unresponsive. Cold, even. When I talked to her mother about it, she just explained that Kella was having a hard time adjusting since her father left them. She thought maybe Kella felt like every one at school was making fun of her for it. Still, I felt like there was something unusual about Kella. She just wasn’t…there.”
Eddie took out a pen and a small pad. “Do you mind if I write this down, Mrs. Jones?”
“It’s Miss Jones, and yes, I do mind. Write it down when you get to your car.”
Eddie looked startled and put the pen back in his inner coat pocket.
Lisa looked at him strangely and laughed, “You really are a rookie.”
Eddie grimaced, “What am I supposed to do, demand a warrant to use my pen? I was just trying to respect your wishes.”
Lisa frowned, “I respect that. Listen, all I’m trying to say is that Kella was different. But that doesn’t make her suicidal, or a candidate for some freakish death. A lot of the kids here have differences and either stick out or try to become invisible. That’s normal. Kella was just a quiet, normal 10th grade girl.”
“10th grade?”
Lisa Jones handed Eddie back his paper that suddenly looked silly to him now, and nodded him towards the door, “Like I said. She was smart.”
Eddie took the paper hesitantly, and gave a compressed smile as he edged out the door, “This helps. Thanks.”
Back outside the school building, Eddie stood for a while against the school fence, staring at the playground. The young boy who had been let out of detention was declaring himself ‘king of the mountain’, while balancing on the top of the jungle bars. A group of teen girls were gathered behind the playground in the soccer field, geared up in green soccer shorts and long socks. A man with graying black hair stood with a whistle to his lips, gathering the girls together into teams.
Eddie unsnapped his brief case and took out Kella’s picture from the paper clipped to the back of her file. Raven black hair deeply contrasted the school-blue background of the picture. The girl had stunning blue eyes that seemed to jump out of the picture. But otherwise, her features were pretty plain. In the picture, she looked young for her age. He would have guessed she was eleven or twelve, which probably didn’t make it easier on an already young kid in the 10th grade. She would have been a late bloomer.
A teacher began glancing at him from her post by the children, and finally came over near the fence, and asked him suspiciously, “Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”
Eddie cleared his throat, shoving the picture into his pants pocket and said, “Uh, no. No. Sorry, ma’am. I was just leaving.”

Back at the office, Eddie entered, his worn briefcase dragging a bit lower than usual. This was supposed to be an open-and-shut case. If he took his first real case to Warren and admitted that he was having a hard time with it, the guy would never offer him a case again. Not to mention the ribbing he would get from his cubicle buddies. Cubicle buddies he would be with… forever. Eddie felt a shudder coming on and walked quickly to shake it.
“Hey, Ed!” It was Wade, a desk cop whose cubicle was right in front of Eddie’s. He would often borrow post-it notes and other office supplies from Eddie’s office when he was in dire need. Which was… every day.
He continued a little jeeringly, “I hear you got a real honest to goodness case. Why didn’t you refer me? I could’ve been your partner, and we could’ve died together in pursuit of the autopsy lab.”
He laughed loudly and a few of the nearest cops joined in, the smiles open and watching the only action they would get for the day with great interest.
Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled wryly, “That would be a very honorable death indeed, Wade. To die with you and your sense of humor. There’s not a better way to go.”
Wade laughed and added, “So how do you wanna go? Death at gun point by neighborhood squirt guns?”
Carlos from across the room piped up, “A high-speed chase over to the dumpster to throw out old traffic reports!”
Eddie laughed, feeling his pride sinking just a bit more.
“Hey, Eddie.” Chloe’s came from out of nowhere, a steaming cup in her hands.
Eddie felt his Adam’s apple grow about triple it’s normal size, making it terribly hard for him to swallow. He heard a little jeering laughter in the background and could feel some of the guys watching him.
“Uh, hi Chloe. Where’d you come- where’ve you been?”
Chloe laughed, “Startled you, huh? From the break room.”
“Is that coffee?”
Eddie looked at the cup after he spoke and saw a Lipton tea bag hanging out.
She laughed, “Nope. Not a coffee drinker. Raspberry tea’s more my thing.”
Eddie gave a relieved smile and said, “Well, that’s good.” Well, that’s good? What kind of thing was that to say? He swallowed and felt himself turning away in despair.
Chloe sat down, apparently unaware of his discomfort and propped her head in her elbows with a mischievous smile, “So, how’s the case going?”
Eddie laughed, “You remembered. Um, actually not too good.”
Chloe’s pretty eyebrows turned up in concern, “No? Why?”
Eddie gave a reluctant half smile and explained quietly, “Well, it’s not as open-and-shut as Warren thought it would be. It’s… it’s just going too take me a little longer than I thought.”
Chloe pursed her lips and looked at his brief case. “Do you mind if I look at the case?”
Eddie looked surprised. “No. Not at all. In fact-” he took the file out of his briefcase that he had hastily set on the floor, “it’s all right here.”
Chloe’s serious hazel eyes began scanning the paper.
“Mmm. Yeah, wow, no real explanation with the autopsy? And these are your only symptoms? I see what you mean. Not much to go off of. You went to her school?”
Eddie nodded, “I’ve studied for stuff like this, as I know you have as well, but I’m kind of coming up blank.”
“So why don’t you take it to Warren?”
Eddie shrugged. “Suicide mission.”
Chloe laughed and handed it back. “You’re absolutely right. He would kill you.”
Eddie looked over at Nick’s office.
“Where is he anyways?”
“Lunch break. That’s why I just got some tea. I have to finish up these files and I was going to use this to hold me over until I could go get some lunch.”
Eddie tried to look nonchalant as his heart pounded, “Well, hey, I could help you with those files, and then… maybe… we could go get a bite to eat together.”
Chloe looked at him, her eyes crinkling at the idea. She gave an exaggerated laugh of exhaustion and said, “You have no idea how great that would be. These files are about to be the death of me.”
Eddie smiled, suddenly shy, “Well, I figured since you got me the case I can try to help you out with these.”
Chloe laughed, handing him a file, “Well, pull up a chair. We’ll be here for a bit.”
Eddie looked at his watch, a glint growing in his eye. It was 12:43. “I bet,” he teased, “I could get you out of here by 1:30.”
Her mouth opened with a small, surprised laugh, “There’s no way you could. This is at least two hours of work.”
Eddie shook his head, pulling a chair from his desk over to the empty monitor near hers.
“Not with two people. Besides, I am what you call the best at entering people’s names into a computer.”
Eddie smiled charmingly at her, bowing slightly, and grabbed a file from the top of the stack.
Chloe shook her head, an impressed smile growing there, “Okay, you’re on.”
The waiter stood impatiently by their table, extending his hand and taking Eddie’s menu book.
“Ma’am, have you decided what you will be ordering yet?”
“Mm.” Chloe said drawing out a breath, “The ranch-tossed spinach salad looks delicious.” She paused, “But the chicken salad looks kind of tempting, too. No, no. The sandwich with the bacon and cheese sounds good. I’m in kind of a sandwich mood. I think I’ll have that.”
The waiter collected Chloe’s menu after jotting something down importantly in his black book, and then announced that their food would arrive shortly.
Eddie leaned forward and whispered, “You know, a little longer, and we might have actually gotten to see an impatient waiter.”
Chloe giggled and took a sip of her water. “He did seem rather put out, didn’t he? I can’t help that I’m rather indecisive when I choose what I want to eat. I figure, if I am going to pay good money for something, I’d better like it. My Dad was always like that. ‘If you have the money, and you need something, buy the best.’ He was always saying that. It’s kind of a Myers thing, I guess.”
Eddie shook his head, “No, I’d guess it’s a good sense thing. My mother was like that, too. Except she went over board and bought outrageous jewelry she didn’t need. It was almost the death of my father.”
Chloe laughed. Eddie liked it that she laughed a lot. It put him at ease, and made him see her as someone who was actually human. She didn’t just have a pretty face. She could come alive.
“I take it your father’s still alive then, and your mother didn’t do him in, then?”
Eddie looked down and gave a strained laugh, “Yeah, he’s still living.”
There was a lull in the conversation and they both unconsciously reached for their waters and took unnecessary sips.
Eddie had chosen a quiet café a few minutes from the police station and close enough to the lake to hear the seagulls. They had walked there, Chloe commenting on how the Colorado air was especially fresh, and oh – what a cute café – when she had reached it.
“So,” Chloe cleared her throat, “tell me about… is it Kella? Have you done the toughie yet? Gone to the home of the girl?”
Eddie shook his head strongly. “I’m not anticipating that one. But I really hate to draw this thing out, or make it more pained than it already is. It’s just so weird that there are absolutely no traces of what killed her. Her heart just stopped. I don’t know where else to look.” He drifted off and stared out the window at a couple of kids riding their bikes down the street.
“Well,” Chloe said softly, “I know it’s kind of presumptuous of me to ask, but I could help you some if you want.”
Eddie’s eyes brightened and he gave a heavy sigh of relief, “That’s not at all presumptuous. Could you go with me to her home?”
Chloe hesitated, “When would you go?”
Eddie thought about it. “It would probably be right after lunch tomorrow. It depends on when I can get a hold of her lawyer. You’re still at work then, aren’t you?”
Chloe nodded reluctantly. “Sorry,” she apologized, “but I could help you research at the library. You know, do some digging work. I always did like the research aspect in college. It would be a really good chance for me to put it to the real stuff.”
Eddie ran a hand through his curly black hair uncertainly. “You’re sure it wouldn’t put you out any?”
“Hey, you saved my tail on those files. I’d love to help you out.”
Eddie’s eyes relaxed and he breathed out slowly, “Okay, then.”
The meal went well. Eddie spilled a glass of water and gave Chloe a horrible time with keeping her laugh behind a napkin as the strung-tight waiter snapped to action with narrowed eyes.
The bill after the meal was the usual tug-of-war to be the polite one and pay for the meal so neither would feel guilty as they left licking their fingers. Eddie won in the end after the appropriate amount of protest by Chloe, and they both returned to work a little closer and a little bit quicker to smile over nothing.
Eddie found himself less concerned about the case and attacked his quota of traffic tickets with a newfound energy. And when he went to bed that night, he avoided telling his older brother that the reason he was acting like a ‘giddyaz fool’ was because he was so dead in love, he didn’t know if there’d be any understandable explanation for his death either.
Day 2. Eddie sat on the brown suede couch nervously. His feet shifted on a mostly green Persian rug, accidentally flipping a corner of it askew.
A voice called from the kitchen, “Are you sure you don’t want some lemonade?”
Eddie put a hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, “Um, no, ma’am. But thank you.” His feet fumbled to smooth out the carpet as the squeaking footsteps drew nearer.
May Davis entered, two glasses of pink lemonade in hand and set one in his hands anyways.
“It calms my nerves,” she explained, glancing at him with knowing eyes. If Eddie knew make up better, he’d have to guess that she was using about a whole bottle of cover-up for the purple under her eyes.
Eddie nodded politely, and muttered, “Well, thank you.”
Her lips were painted a messy bright red, and it scared Eddie to think that some of the heavy liquid may have dropped into his lemonade.
“Go on. Sip it. It’s not poisoned,” Mrs. Davis teased with a sip of her own.
Eddie laughed hoarsely and took a sip, trying not to pucker his lips at its sourness.
“So,” Mrs. Davis said quietly, sitting across from him on a matching couch, “Tell me how you knew my daughter.”
Eddie swallowed nervously. “Actually, ma’am, I’m sorry to say I’ve never met Kella. My name’s Eddie Juliani. I’m here as a result of your lawyer, to find out what your daughter died from, so you can be given some closure. I’m not here to bother you, and if I am… it’s up to you. I can leave.”
Eddie looked at her, uncertain what her reaction would be. At first Mrs. Davis sat unresponsively, and then suddenly, she stood.
“I have something that might help you.”
She walked towards the stairs, her white sneakers squeaking on the floor. Eddie reluctantly put down his lemonade and stood to follow her.
Upstairs, it was visibly and emotionally hard for Mrs. Davis to open her daughters’ bedroom door, but she opened it and motioned him inside.
Eddie looked around tentatively, hands in his pockets. The room was a normal teen girl’s room. Posters of her favorite bands and a Pirates of the Caribbean calendar hung on her walls. The wall behind the posters was white, and her bedspread contrasted it nicely with a dark blue. As was typical of most families whose children had recently died, the room looked to be untouched.
“This,” May Davis said with some effort, “was Kellas’ room.”
Eddie already knew that, but said quietly, “I know it’s hard for you to show me this.”
Mrs. Davis nodded, breathing in quickly, and led him over to the window near the bed. Built into the headboard of the bed was a small bookshelf.
“Kella read a lot,” Eddie observed.
“She did. She was very smart. People say she was a lot like me at that age. I thought she might even follow in my foot steps and go to medical school. Even for her young age, she was already reading college-prep material.” Mrs. Davis could not quite look at the books, but gave a sad smile in their direction. “She was even reading some English book on essays and grammar technicalities. Told me she wanted to be a writer. It’s funny, how all of those greatest qualities in my girl have become just a ‘was’ now that she is gone. Hmm. There’s an ‘is’ for you. She is dead. Funny, in a bitter way, I suppose.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say. “Why do you think she died, Mrs. Davis?”
In her struggle for composer, her voice sounded high-pitched. “She died holding a book.”
Eddie’s eyebrows creased upwards in confusion. “She did?”
Mrs. Davis looked surprised. “That’s what I was told. It wasn’t in the report? They took the book with them. Said it was evidence.”
Eddie shook his head slowly. “No. I never saw any book.”
She looked disturbed for a minute and then looked back at him with a growing fear in her eyes.
“Kella was reading so many books, I couldn’t check them all. You know… make sure they were okay. She bought this one at a half-price bookstore. It sounded scientific enough. Some Psychology book. I asked her why she would want to get such a book. She just explained that it interested her… that the human mind was fascinating. I shrugged and figured she was just my braniac child and that was how it would be. But a couple of days later, I caught her reading the book when she was supposed to be doing her homework. I thought that was certainly weird, but got even more suspicious when she didn’t go over to the house of her friend across the street, just so she could be in her room and have some ‘alone time’. I went up to check on her later, and she put the book away really fast. I made a mental note to check the book later, but… of course…I forgot about it.” May Davis breathed out raggedly and turned to Eddie. “I don’t know why that book wasn’t mentioned, but I think it had something to do with her death.”
A tear ran down Mrs. Davis’ cheek. Eddie bit on his lip and stood quietly, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. She walked haltingly to the door and whispered behind her, “I’ll be downstairs if you have any more questions.”
The door shut behind her, and Eddie found himself alone in a quiet room, listening to the distant tap-tap of her shoes on the stairs. Finally all was silent.
“Okay. Spooky.”
Eddie walked to the side of the bed and peered into the little bookshelf.
“Environment and Man. Warriner’s English and Grammar Composition. Wow, she wasn’t kidding.”
Eddie leaned down closer to one of the books and narrowed his eyes. “What’s this?” He pulled out a green book and frowned. “Anne of Green Gables. Wow. She really was into some deep stuff.” He chuckled to himself and pulled the pillow back to read the other titles. But the other titles weren’t what caught Eddie’s attention. There was a book under the pillow. A simple, reddish-brown book, face down on the white sheets. Eddie picked it up, and read out loud the title he somehow already knew was there.
“The Psychology of Abnormal People.”
There were no fireworks when he held it. It was just a simple, plain book with – he opened it – yellowing pages.
“By John J. B. Morgan.”
The book opened to a folded notebook paper that served as a marker. There were words in small print, and he had to squint his eyes to read them.
“The classification of mental disorders reveals the fact that there are many types of abnormality arising from diverse causes.”
What? Eddie flipped back a few pages. Small print again. “Page 11. Records of abnormal individuals may be found as far back as we have historical chronicles.” He skipped to an above paragraph and read there, “A person may be just like others in the major part of his being but may be over-irritable: another may be all right in every respect except when he harps upon his pet hobby, upon which he bores everybody about him. Such minor peculiarities may be of the same order as, though different in degree from, serious disorders.”
Eddie shook his head, closing the book, and walked to the window. Sensing a headache, he put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. The room felt suddenly like death. He just had the itchy feeling on the nape of his neck that he would collapse if he didn’t get out soon.
He hurried out of the room, and thanked Mrs. Davis at the door, and said that he had to leave, but he would take the book and try to read it to see if it had any relation to Kellas’ death.
It wasn’t until he was on the road with the sun roof open above him and that ‘fresh Colorado air’ was rushing through his old clunker of a car that he felt the headache receding and could think clearly again.
Chloe dusted off her hands and entered the library, nodding at the man who was coming out as she brushed passed him. The ring tone on her cell phone erupted without warning near the front desk. Chloe pulled it quickly from her pink and black-striped handbag, and flipped it up with a quiet, “Hello?”
The voice was Eddie’s. Her lips relaxed into a smile and she acknowledged, “Yeah, I did call you. I’m at the library and I just – okay, the librarian’s giving me mean looks so I have to make this quick – what is it you want me to look up?”
“Try a search on a book called, The Psychology of Abnormal People.”
Chloe took out a pen and scribbled it down quickly. “Do you have an author?”
“Yeah. His name is John J. B. Morgan. Hey, and while you’re at it can you look up Odyssey, the restaurant?.”
Chloe began writing and then stopped. “Why?”
There was a smile in Eddie’s voice. “Because I want to take you there tonight, and I need directions.”
Chloe laughed delightedly and whispered, “Okay, map quest it is.”
“7:00?”
“I’ll be waiting. Don’t you be late.”
Eddie laughed. “Heh, as long as you come through on your end, I’ll be there at exactly the right time.”
“Oo – is that a bet?”
“Do you really want to bet, or are you just flirting with me?”
Chloe’s cheeks warmed. “You are good. And, yeah, pretty much just flirting.”
Eddie laughed. “I’ll bet you that you want me to hang up so the librarian won’t confiscate your cell phone, huh?”
Chloe grinned, “Yeah, that and so my big toe won’t get permanently stuck in my big mouth.”
“Oh, only your big toe? Not your big foot?”
“You are horrible! Wait… are you flirting with me now?”
“Maybe.”
“Wow. You are so low.” Chloe laughed. “Okay, 7:00. I’ll email you the directions. What’s your email address?”
Chloe took down his email address and then hung up, shaking her head and smiling. The librarian was glancing up at her and her perched glasses seemed to hold a gaze of it’s own on Chloe. She escaped up the stairs, away from the obviously annoyed lady librarian, and found the library computers.
She typed in John J. B. Morgan, tapping her fingers impatiently on the wooden desk while she waited for it to process.
Eddie looked at the alarm clock by his bed. It was 4:30 p.m. He stretched out on his comforter with a deep sigh. He was in the mood where everything made him want to sleep. The light warmth of light from between the window blinds. The distant sound of children playing basketball. The steady breeze of traffic. If he wasn’t careful he was going to nap very soon. Eddie forced his eyes open and reached over to the book by his alarm clock.
He stared at the cover. The Psychology of Abnormal People. He decided spontaneously that he didn’t need two hours to get ready. Putting on his reading glasses, and thumbing past the credits, he turned the on the lamp by his bed with a decisive click. Okay. Page 1.
It was 6:30. Where was he? Chloe waited until the third ring and then hung up, her eyebrows creased. She had called him 3 times in the last two hours, and it seemed like he’d at least try to answer. Chloe felt like a nag, but she wanted to tell him about what she’d found at the library. Or rather, what she hadn’t found.
She sat on her bed, looking off into the distance deep in thought. Whoever this Kella was, she definitely had been dabbling with things that confused her mind. To study Psychology, you yourself must be sure you are not somewhat crazy. Everyone has his breaking point. Maybe that book just gave her a little push over the edge.
Chloe walked to her closet to pick out an outfit for the evening, still deep in thought. As she flipped through her evening gowns, her thoughts flipped back a few years and she remembered herself as a teen, screaming at her parents. She had felt like she was going insane. In the end, her Dad would always come to her bed and tuck her in at night, explaining things to her. Her mom, however, never came.
Chloe remembers those late nights, crying into her pillow, thinking that her indifferent mother did not love her. Now she could see that her mother just expressed her love differently. But back then Chloe couldn’t see anything else about her mother. More than once, she had stood in her kitchen, knowing exactly where the dinner knives were. She could never picture actually killing herself, but she often wondered if the act itself would make her mother regret driving her daughter away.
Now, she was so glad that she did not give into those impulses to solve her temporary problems with a permanent solution. She could call her mother up this minute and have a wonderful conversation with her. Time had changed some things.
With these thoughts running through her mind, Chloe couldn’t help wondering if
maybe Kella had been driven to somehow harm herself, or just break away entirely from reality. Maybe Kellas’ mother was unknowingly to blame.
She shoved the closet door open a little wider. There. On the farthest end of the closet was her short blue dress with a simple black edging. It had been a long time since she had been on a date with that dress. It had been a long time since she had been on a date period. Ever since Jim… Chloe swallowed hard. She wondered where he was now. Some kinds of grief are too deep to overcome, he had decided, and so he left. After a while, she had agreed in her own private way, and tried to bury her pain deep in the grave with their daughter. People always said she was too strong, too controlling, too obsessive. But how do you get over the death of a child? Frankly, she was surprised she had been so willing to go out with Eddie. Chloe pulled out the dress and admired it on the hanger. Then again, she wasn’t so surprised. Small crystal earrings would complement it perfectly.
Eddie hurried out the door and started the car. He couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep. The red Pick-up coughed to life as he hastily tucked his white shirt into his brown corduroy pants. Last minute, he grabbed his black leather jacket. It was a chilly night. One glance at the clock in his truck told him he had better risk a couple of traffic tickets if he wanted to get there by 7:00.
Eddie hit the gas and sped onto Highway 96 with a bit of a smile. He could easily make it there by 7:00. That silly bet was his. It would be something to joke about, break the ice with. Chloe could be a little icy at times, he had noticed. But with him, she had seemed nothing but at-ease.
Red and blue flashing lights around the corner almost blinded him as he slammed on the brakes. Some poor soul had been pulled over on the side of the interstate. Eddie laughed a little, shaking his head. That guy was having a bad night.
6:55. He could still make it. He hit the gas again, slowing only slightly where he thought there might be a police car on the corners. Their hiding spots were so predictable. All of them were right around the bend. Eddie squinted at the map quest page in his lap and got off on exit 63. Just as he was slowing down to the stop sign, red and blue lights suddenly flashed into his rear-view mirror.
“What?! No! Come on!”
Eddie pulled over alongside the emergency ramp, and put his hands on the steering wheel. Three steady knocks came on his window, as sure as a gavel grinding a headache into his skull. Eddie rolled down the window and nearly lost his eyesight when a flashlight blinded through his car. He knew just the thing to say.
“Excuse me, officer. Was I going a little fast? I’m really sorry if I was, but I’m afraid I’m from out of town, and I got a little lsot. Could you direct me to Blue Gills diner?”
The cop motioned for him to exit his truck and laughed, “You might have been speeding, and you may well be lost, buddy, but that’s not what I noticed. You were swerving like a drunk pig. Let’s save ourselves some trouble, kid. How much have you had to drink tonight?”
Eddie opened the door with a laugh. “Sir, this is ridiculous. I don’t drink.”
The mustached cop shook his head and said sharply, “That’s bull and you know it. Are you going to cooperate with me or do I need to take you in?”
Chloe was tapping her fingernails on the desk. She had been tapping her finger-nail’s for over 10 minutes. The waiter was kind this time, much to Chloe’s relief, and had let her sit there for 15 minutes without ordering. Chloe sighed. Eddie did have a reputation for being late, but she had seen the adoration in his eyes. It seems like he would have tried to be on time just this once. She could see the white-haired waiter looking at her again. His eyes were sympathetic. She sat there calmly, her red-brown hair coiffed up into a clip and her eyes smoldering with anger and thick purple eyeliner. Her blue dress hung off her body smoothly and cut off just above the knees. Her tall blue heels suddenly seemed ridiculous. She slid her purse strap over her shoulder and stood. The waiter hurried over to her, and she gave him a pained smile.
“Thank you for holding my table,” she breathed out graciously, feeling tears coming to her eyes. She had left a tip for the old gentleman and hoped he would notice it on the table. The waiter put his menu in his apron pocket and took her by the arm.
“A young girl like you should-a not be stood up. You so beautiful, any boy would want-a go out-a with you.”
Chloe laughed weakly, her lips trembling. “Thank you, I’m sure something just came up.”
He had kind eyes, and they sparkled sadly at Chloe. He wrote down a number on a napkin and handed it to her.
She took it looking at him curiously.
He explained, “No, not my number. My boy’s number. You seem like-a nice girl. He need-a good girl.”
Chloe smiled gratefully at his gesture, and thanked him sincerely, but she was just fine.
On her way out of the restaurant, her cell phone rang. The number was unrecognizable, but she flipped it open anyways.
“Hello?” She tried to keep the edge out of her voice.
“Will you accept a call from the Greenfield Police Headquarters?”
“Yes, of course.” Could Eddie be at work?
“Hey, Chloe?”
“Eddie! Where are… what are you doing? You kind of missed our date.”
“Hey – weirdest thing. Number one, if words mean anything, I am really sorry.”
“And?”
“Number two,” Eddie continued desperately, “I seem to be with-held for drunk driving…or something. And I need a ride home. So I was wondering…”
Chloe sputtered, “Wai-wait. So you failed the test? How stupid could you be, Eddie? Drinking and driving? Wow, if Warner hears about this…” She found herself wanting to laugh at the thought. Of all surprises, even under the circumstances, she let out a little laugh that came out something like a snort.
“Hey, it’s not funny,” he protested.
“Well, on the account of the fact that you sound truly put out, and the fact that I am sorely put out for being stood up, I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“Hey, I’m really sorry, okay? Posting bail’s not a problem. Could you just come pick me up? I promise I’ll make this evening up to you.”
“I guess-”, the phone call cut out.
“The caller who you were talking to has been disconnected. To place another call-”
Chloe stood there and finished to herself, “I guess so.”
“Turn in here.”
The dark blue Jetta pulled into Eddie’s driveway and Chloe shook her head, “Wow. This is your house?”
Eddie made no move to get out. “I’m afraid it’s an inheritance thing. Not amazing for a 52 year old mom to live in, but not bad for a 25 year old police rookie and his kid brother to live in.”
Chloe turned her car off and they sat in the silence of the driveway. The shabby house in front of her did not look inviting and the look on Eddie’s face looked miserable.
“I would have called Marc to come pick me up,” he apologized, “but the lazy boy wasn’t answering the phone. Pretty sure he was out partying with his friends when I told him to do homework. Apparently, that kind of irresponsibility runs in the family. It’s like a curse. My Dad used to tell me that I was responsible for my brother, but I guess… I guess we’ve both gone a little crazy lately.”
He sighed. “I feel so bad that our first date went like this.”
Chloe suddenly broke the silence with a little laugh. “You looked so pathetic in jail.”
Eddie looked at her in surprise. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”
Chloe compressed her lips and shrugged.
“Chloe! Come on! This is my tail we’re talking about here!”
“Okay, alright. Fine. But on one condition.”
“What?”
“Tell me why on earth you got drunk.”
“I didn’t. I swear! I don’t drink!”
“Eddie, your eyes were red-rimmed. They tested and found alcohol in your blood. There’s a police report. Now I’ve seen guy’s bluff before. We both have. And you’re really taking this one a little too far, aren’t you?”
Eddie shook his head. “I could lie to you, Chloe, but I have no reason to. If I drank I would come out and tell you. But I didn’t drink at all. Not a drop. I don’t know why the test…”
Chloe looked suspiciously at Eddie. She opened her door and stepped two leather boots onto his driveway, “Okay, get out of the car.”
Eddie looked at her in surprise and go out. “Why?”
“Because. There’s a coffee shop around here somewhere isn’t there?”
“Yeah, that ‘cute’ one I took you to before. It’s a couple blocks from here. Why?”
“I can tell when someone’s lying. Good liars generally lie more often and are smoother because of it. Bad liars don’t lie unless they have to, and when they do, they’re horrible at it because they have no practice. You’re either lying so earnestly that you yourself aren’t even sure whether you’re lying anymore -bad-, or you’re a bad liar because you’re not in the habit of lying –good-.”
Eddie swallowed and scratched his dark head. “Thanks?”
“Right. And, you look like you need a good cup of something strong. Maybe that Ginger-moca latte. That was really good last time.”
As they walked to the coffee shop, Eddie began to think about the book he had found under Kellas’ pillow. It had been confusing at first, but the more he read it, the more it made sense. He wasn’t sure whether he could mention the book again to Chloe without sounding paranoid, so he just quietly decided that he should read more later. For now, though, he was walking beside the most beautiful gal in the world.
Chloe gave a little shiver and Eddie looked at her quizzically.
“It’s a little cold out, isn’t it?”
Chloe laughed, trying not to tremble. “It must be this fresh Colorado air.”
There was a pause, and then Eddie said, “This is where I offer you my coat, isn’t it?”
Chloe shook her head, “Oh, no, you don’t have-”
But suddenly a leather jacket was around her. Chloe shivered again, her eyes meeting his as his hands brushed against her shoulder.
A small, unbidden smile betrayed her pleasure. “Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and low.
He smiled good-naturedly. “You’re very welcome, Miss Myers.”
She laughed thinking that was a little weird but kind of cute, too.
“What?” he protested teasingly, “Am I too…” he winked, “…sophisticated?”
Chloe burst out laughing, and at his mocked hurt-look, she explained, “You’re staggering like a drunk.”
Eddie gave a half smile and held onto her shoulder to steady himself as he walked. “I guess tonight has been a bit of a hazy one for me. Something about being near you… wow… I can hardly walk straight.”
Chloe shook her head, with a small smile, steadying him with her firm arm. She hadn’t gone through boot camp for nothing.
She turned to him and began to walk backwards with a small sparkle in her eyes, “Okay, then, Mr. Juliani, does Mr. Juliani want to hear what I found out at the library today?”
Eddie grinned, “Sure.”
They kept walking as Chloe talked.
“Actually, it’s more like what I didn’t find. The book checks out. It’s real. The library even used to have a copy of their own.”
“What happened to their copy?”
“The librarian didn’t know. For all we know, Kella could have stolen it, and that’s the copy that made her go crazy. The librarian said there’s nothing unusual about the book, though. It’s just a standard psychology book. They even still study it at some colleges today. I looked it up online and there were a few papers written about it.”
“What did the papers say?”
“Well, I actually don’t know because there’s a fee to be able to view the articles.”
“Well,” Eddie breathed out slowly as they neared the coffee house, “I’m just going to have to read Kellas’ book. I started some of it this afternoon, and I seriously don’t even remember falling asleep in the middle of reading. It was so boring.”
“So why, again do you think that book is connected with Kellas’ death?”
Eddie grimaced, “She died with it. That’s about all I have to go on.”
“Hey,” Chloe came to a stop underneath a street lamp, and gave a small smile, “You know, I really admire the fact that you’re not giving up on this, even though it really doesn’t make much sense. I mean, you majorly screwed up our date tonight.”
Eddie grimaced.
“…but I think it says a lot for you… I mean for your career, that you’re not giving up.”
She looked so beautiful under the light, her silk-smooth dress hanging off of her long legs while she drowned in his perfectly masculine, leather jacket. She seemed to realize that Eddie was staring at her, because she cleared her throat and added quickly, “Because ambition is like… well, it helps you get…things.”
Eddie cleared his throat and said with a musky throat, “You are so beautiful.”
Chloe’s neck locked in place for a second, and then her eyes rolled to one side and she walked ahead of him slowly, with an amused smile on her face. “You know, I think maybe I’ll get a ginger latte without the mocha.”
Eddie felt his heart sink as she walked ahead of him. Was she challenging him or warning him? How many times had he seen a girl so flattered that she can’t even stop smiling -- and yet, still, she walks away? Some part of her gets noticed and singled out by some poor dude, and instead of thinking higher of the admirer, she thinks higher of herself. All the more reason to say no, eh? The old ‘you don’t deserve me’ factor. The sum of Eddie’s last relationship had been a loud restaurant plus a blind date. Lest he be forced to think more on the horror of it, Eddie walked to catch up with Chloe and determined to understand this girl. He’d come this far.
She had been lagging - her way of waiting for him - and as soon as he caught up, she resumed a confident stride.
“So,” she said, feeling a strain in her calves as she walked up-hill, “Look at those mountains. Ever get tired of seeing them this time of day?”
“No…no I don’t. It is beautiful with the… that… I’m sorry. I just can’t see them. I have bad eyesight. I’m not even graced with the image of a shadow this time of night.”
Chloe burst out laughing, “I can’t see them too well, either, to be honest. It’s just the knowledge that they’re always there, I guess. You know, from my apartment window, you can’t see much of a sunrise or sunset, but someday I’m going to get a house on the lake with a big window. I mean a big honking window, and I’m going to wake up early just so I can see a sunrise from my living room.”
“Why not from your kitchen? Would not a kitchen window be… the essence.” Chloe looked at Eddie quizzically, but he had a teasing glint in his eye and was turning away to ‘look at the mountains’.
“Define essence.”
“Essence: the joys of perking coffee and scrambling cheesy eggs while watching a sunrise.”
Chloe laughed again, her mouth opening wide. She was beginning to breath heavier going up the hill. “Well,” she challenged him, “I might be wanting to see the sunset, not the sunrise. Then what do you suggest? A sunset from my hard kitchen table? Or a sunset I can watch from a deliciously cushy living room chair?”
“Hmm. Depends.”
“On?”
“Define delicious.”
“Delicious…a glass of Pomegranate juice, a good mystery book, a couch, soft carpet and a sunset.”
“Ah, a mystery reader, eh? And late at night, too. Hmm. I’d be willing to bet you’re also a Pomegranate juice spiller, too. Not a good thing for your living room carpet. I’d recommend a good solid kitchen floor.”
Chloe laughed, “Na ah, no you can’t win.”
“Fine. I’ll subtly change the subject so you won’t be embarrassed by my victory. What kind of mystery books are you into?”
“Are we almost there? Seems like we’ve been walking forever?”
“Why, you getting a little tired?”
Chloe laughed breathily, her legs sagging even as she flexed them, “Me? Never. I’m one of those athletes in heels. In fact, I work best in my heels. I ran a marathon in heels, I was so excited to be in pain.”
Eddie winced, trying to suppress a laugh, but he failed horribly. She noticed his amusement and nudged him reprovingly. “Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, “We’re almost there.”
Eddie reached the door before her and held the door with his arm over her head so she could duck in. The warmth hit them in the face, along with the strong smell of coffee beans.
“Mmm,” Chloe said, rubbing her hands together.
“Why are you looking at the menu?” Eddie observed. “I thought you already decided what you want.”
“Yeah, but I suddenly feel like just having straight hazelnut coffee. Something that taste’s as powerfully as it smells in here.”
Eddie shook his head in amazement at her and ordered for them.
“I’d like a hazelnut coffee-” he turned to Chloe- “Did you want a Venti or a-”
Chloe laughed. “Tall.”
“Okay, so one tall hazelnut coffee, and I’ll take a… grande ginger latte.”
Chloe eyed him laughingly and after she paid, they waited with their arms crossed in harmonious silence.
A woman with frizzy brown hair stringing from a hair-net announced, “Tall hazelnut and a grande ginger latte,” setting two lidded-cups on the counter for them.
Eddie turned away with his cup in hand, but Chloe took a sip first and then looked disturbed. “Um, ma’am?” The woman turned back none-too-happily. “Yeah?”
“Do you have any creamers, maybe?”
The woman handed Chloe a handful of ½ and ½ ungracefully and didn’t wait to see if she needed anything else.
Chloe took the creamers and coffee with her to the table Eddie had found and sat down dramatically.
“You look deep in thought.”
Eddie looked up, registering her words, and shook his head, “Uh, no. I was just thinking…”
“About?” Chloe prodded encouragingly, as she began emptying creamers into her coffee.
“About…” he groaned, “Just about how much I like being with you, Chloe.”
He watched her eyes closely, and could tell she was still stand-offish but somehow pleased, and softened.
“Victoria Holt.”
“Hmm?”
“You asked what kinds of mystery books I like to read. Victoria Holt. I used to read her books growing up. There was something addictive about those books. Once you started reading one, it was like it lured you into the mystery and you were enchained to it. Doomed to be incapable of putting it down. Your whole mind was overwhelmed with the questions and…and the characters, and the plot of it until you had finished.”
“Ah, a page turner. I believe I was an avid reader like that, too, as a child. Only I think it was the Hardy Boys. Used to be president of the Hardy Boy’s club at school.”
Chloe laughed with abandon, sipping her cup and leaving a ring of lipstick on the lid.
“How’s your hazelnut coffee? I noticed you kind of drowned it in creamer.”
“I should of gone with the ginger latte.”
“Are you always indecisive?” he teased.
“Always.”
Eddie took his straw out of his cup and slid the ginger latte over to Chloe.
“Here. I don’t like it much. I need something a little stronger.”
Chloe looked at him in surprise, and then smiled, shoving her own hazelnut coffee over to him.
“Ah, perfect.” He sighed, winking at her as he put his straw in Chloe’s cup.
Laughter bubbled from Chloe’s throat, and she couldn’t help mentioning, “I can’t believe your using a straw in your coffee.”
“Hey, I tell you, it’s coming in real handy right now, avoiding this lipstick.” Eddie gave a half-smile and Chloe laughed again. She felt so full of laughter, it was like an ocean of coffee within her, and she wanted to lay on that beach and just sink her bare toes into coffee-ground-sand and coffee-bean-pebbles. What a romantic she was!
Day 3. Nick Warren rapped rapidly on his window. Chloe sighed, twisting in her chair to look at him. His narrowed eyes demanded that she was guilty of something, though she wasn’t sure what.
Chloe opened the door cautiously.
“Yeah, Nick?”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
Chloe’s lips formed a guilty ‘o’ as she remembered that she had unplugged it.
“It must have come unhooked,” she said, smiling nervously.
“Well, plug it back in,” he ordered.
Chloe eyed him swiftly. He was leaning back in what he called his ‘king-of-all-kings leather chair’. Files were open all across his desk, but his computer-glasses were lying across them, which meant he was apparently ‘on break’. With his hands behind his head, his normally crisp white-shirt a little wrinkled, and his tie loose around his neck, Chloe wondered if something really was going on.
“Is there something you need, Nick?”, Chloe ventured.
He sat looking off at something behind her, and then seemed to focus in on her face.
“I…” he glared at the open door. “Well, are you just going to leave it open for everyone to listen?”
Chloe shut it behind her quickly, and stood trying to appear very understanding, while secretly hoping he was going to say that he was transferring departments, and he was sorry, but it would be most immediate.
“I’m getting promoted.”
“Wow. Well, congratulations are in order.”
“Indeed.” His shrewd eyes looked her over and he frowned at her gray slacks and purple sweater.
“Is that a new sweater?”
Chloe looked at him weirdly. “No, I wear it all the time-”
“Well, get rid of it. It’s disgusting. I don’t like my secretary wearing old-lady sweaters and panty hose.”
“Excuse me? It’s brand name. And I have to wear hose. It’s in the dress code. Remember? You printed that thing up and passed it out like it was the Bible.”
“And?”
“And it doesn’t even matter, because you’re leaving. You’re getting your grand promotion, and I won’t have to put up with you anymore.”
“Well,” Nick said, appearing offended. “I’m hurt.” He looked more amused than hurt. “Especially since…I’m not leaving.”
“What?”
“Right. So you can take all those pretty words back, my dear. It’s a promotion in name only. Instead of Acting Director Nick Warren, I am now Superintendent Nick Warren. But it does mean I’m going to have to step up my performance. Work with more numbers. Have more security clearance. Get a nicer secretary. Stuff like that. No, no, I’m not going any where. Are you sad?” He laughed, watching her closely.
“Get a nicer secretary?” Chloe looked horrified. “Does that mean your firing me?”
Nick stood, closing the blinds, and Chloe feared it was to give her tears privacy. So this was it. After all this time of getting him coffee, mildly agreeing that he looked like he was in fine shape, and keeping his secret that he waxed his eyebrows, he was firing her.
He stood almost humbly in front of her, but his mocking eyes betrayed that he was enjoying her discomfort. Chloe suddenly wanted to say that he didn’t look like he worked out at all - in fact, he looked fat. His brown hair looked mousy, and he had evil eyebrows. Oh, how evil they were right now!
“You’re enjoying this!" She cried, outraged. “You know that I have nowhere else to go and that no one else will hire me, and you’re smiling! How can you, Nick? After all I’ve done for you!”
“Chloe. Calm down. Did I say I was firing you?”
Chloe’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’re despicable. I can’t believe you let me think that! Are you firing me or not, Nick?”
“I’m not firing you, Chloe. Why should I? You do good work, and you’re good for me. I like you.” He smirked at her and closed the gap between them. Chloe could taste his cigar-breath in the air.
“Yeah, well keep your distance,” she grimaced.
Nick laughed, shaking his head at her.
“No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll make your life so miserable, that you’ll want to leave, Chloe. You’ll be begging to leave, in fact. But I won’t let you leave. And you know that if you do leave, no one will want to hire a girl who’s had the kind of history you have. Then, what?”
“You’re despicable,” Chloe whispered, and left quickly.
------------------------

“Eddie. Wake up, man.”
Eddie groaned. It felt like a mule was kicking around in his head.
“What time is it?”
“Dude,” Eddie’s younger brother, Marc, stood over him. “You look like you’ve been stoned. Where were you last night?”
“What do you mean, where was I? I went out…with Chloe. We had coffee.”
“If you say so,” Marc snorted.
The sun streamed dustily through the blinds and played softly over Eddie’s feet. Eddie gasped.“Once again. What time is it?” he asked, frantically reaching for his watch.
Marc had already found his way to the kitchen, though, and was making coffee obliviously.
“Man, you didn’t tell me you were off work.” He called over the sound of Peanut-butter-crunch cereal being poured into a bowl.
“10:00?! Marc! Why didn’t you wake me?”
Marc shuffled in, a yellow bathrobe tied loosely around him.
“I don’t know, man. You looked peaceful.”
There was a mad scrambling of shirts and ties and clean underwear, before Eddie was racing to his car.
“Edison! Breakfast!”
Eddie looked strangely at Marc, who laughed and threw him a chocolate-filled donut.
Eddie caught it and smiled, “Thanks,” as he revved his engine.
“Hey, why aren’t you in school?” Eddie asked suddenly.
“You’d better go. You’ll be late for work,” Marc said, rapping the hood of the car with his knuckles cheerfully.
Eddie growled and backed up carefully and then shifted gears like a dead-man.
“We’re not done talking,” he warned as his wheels found the smooth freedom of the newly black-topped road.
“Edison!”
Eddie groaned, all hopes of quietly being late, obliterated. If he felt bad before, he felt worse now.
“This is your third offense!”
James Narson, one of Eddie’s water-cooler buddies, swiveled in his chair to grin at Eddie. Everyone in the office knew to expect an official chewing out. Eddie could sense he was in everybody’s peripheral vision.
“I know, Nick. I’m sorry, okay? My brother didn’t wake me up.”
“Your brother.” Nick looked amused. “What happened to the alarm clock? The rest of us never have brothers to wake us up, yet we’re here on time more often than you.”
Eddie noticed then that Chloe wasn’t at her desk. Nick noticed his glance, and said,
“What, are you looking for your girl-friend? Think she’s late, too?”
“She’s not late. Her car’s outside.”
“Observant.”
“Thanks.”
“Wasn’t a compliment. Are you going to put your stuff down and get some work done, or what?”
Warren’s office door shut loudly, and everyone kind of winced, and then looked at Eddie.
He was a sad sight, indeed. His eyes were red rimmed, he had stubble on his chin, his shirt was wrinkled and not quite tucked in, and his shoes didn’t match. He stood there a minute, unknowingly letting everyone admire him, and then he slumped into his seat.
James peeked over the divider, his big eyes annoyingly curious.
“Nice going, Edison.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot, friend.”
“Ah, come on, you know how fun it is to be the center of attention and all. I mean this was your third time!” The black man’s eyebrows were almost hitting the ceiling.
“Okay, yeah, Narson, I kind of heard him shout that at me. Can you just leave me alone?”
James feigned injury. “Sure, man, that’s cool. You’re in a bad mood… I’m trying to be a friend. I get how it is.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, and put his head in his hands.
“Hey, Eds. Can I borrow your stapler?” It was Wade, and through Eddie’s blurred vision, he looked more skinny and pointy-nosed than ever.
Eddie sighed. “What happened to your own stapler, Wade?”
“How should I know? Listen, it’s not a big deal. Just let me borrow your stapler.”
Eddie reached into his bottom drawer and slammed it down on the table.
Wade looked at him strangely, and walked away with it quickly. The way he walked away, Eddie was sure he was looking for somebody to talk to about Eddie’s bad mood.
Eddie sniffed his hands. They stunk. Smelled like something rotten. He fished around in his leather jacket pocket and found an moldy looking hand sanitizer bottle. As his computer started up, he squirted the rest of the bottle into his hands.
“Ach,” he hissed, as the clear lotion dripped off of his palms and onto his khaki pants. It was not a good day.
Chloe came in just then, her heels clicking their way to her desk. She had been crying, Eddie noticed with surprise. Why?
She smiled at Eddie, but he wasn’t fooled. That was a sad smile. That bright red fingernail polish was fresh.
It was an hour later, that Eddie noticed the first signs of problems. The words on the screen were getting smaller and then suddenly bigger. His vision seemed to lurch within his head. A pounding headache added to the drama. After another half hour of coffee breaks, and endless traffic reports, Eddie clocked out. Enough. He needed to figure out that Kella case, but he couldn’t if he was swamped with two jobs. He sat outside in the parking lot for a few minutes, trying to clear his head. What was more important? File a couple lousy traffic reports, or discover the cause of death to a young girl. The answer seemed blatantly obvious, and he groaned because it didn’t relieve his suffering any.
“I feel…lost.” He spoke to the still air in his stuffy car. Working was no use. All he could do was stare at the screen anyways.
“What I need,” he said to himself, “is a day off before I go crazy.”
Putting the car in gear, Eddie was about to back up, when he noticed that the file in the back seat of his car was open. Eddie looked at the file curiously and picked it up. The picture of Kella fell out of the file and onto his lap. Eddie rubbed his red eyes and looked closer. As a result, he noticed something he hadn’t before. There was an address written faintly in the right-hand corner.
Eddie reached over to his computer and typed the address into the system.
“Dumb wireless internet,” he muttered and took the picture inside the police station.
A woman bumped into him.
“Oof! Sorry…” Eddie apologized hurriedly.
“Eddie! It’s me!”
“Oh, Chloe! Hey-hey, what’s up?”
“Why did you just walk past me like that?”
Eddie grimaced. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t recognize you. Hey, were you crying?”
Chloe turned away quickly, “No. Why? Does it look like I have been? Because I’ve been having mascara problems… maybe that’s what you saw.”
“I didn’t say I saw anything.”
“Well… I saw you watching me earlier just before you left.”
“And that’s unusual how? I always keep an eye out for you.”
“You mean you always keep an eye on me,” Chloe retorted quickly.
“Hey, why are you so short-tempered?”
“Well, why are you so distant?”
“I have things on my mind. You would to, if…”
“If what?”
“If you had this case and work to do all at the same time.”
“Listen, I understand that your life isn’t easy, but we all have troubles that make us work double-time to just get through the day. You’re not the only one with a big work-load.”
Eddie’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry…”
“No, I guess I should be the one that’s sorry.”
“Is it anything you want to talk about?”
Chloe bit her lip. “Not really.”
“Well, I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” Chloe gave Eddie a small smile and pushed out the glass doors.
Eddie watched her go and then walked to his computer station. It wasn’t on, and he didn’t feel like starting it up.
“Hey, Wade.” He called to his cubicle buddy. “Can I borrow your computer a sec?”
Wade looked up from his Styrofoam coffee cup. “What for?”
“Just let me borrow it.”
“But I’m busy.”
“So help me, Wade, you borrow stuff from me 90% of the time and I say nothing. Let me on the computer.”
Wade shrugged and pushed back in his rolling chair from the desk.
“Can I have the chair, please?” Eddie asked in disbelief.
“You know what? Don’t push it,” Wade threatened, looking very much like the dumb cop with an attitude.
“Whatever,” Eddie said, and entered the address while blocking Wades view with his back.
“The view is quite unpleasant.” Wade swallowed impatiently. “Can you hurry it up, please?” On standing up, and looking around Eddie, he looked impressed. “Man, you get to look up government officials now? Cool…”
“Government officials?” Eddie sputtered, “No, don’t be silly. I’m just looking up a common address.”
“No, dude. That’s got to be Governor Sensinbrackers you’re looking up.”
Sure enough, the address was registered under Governor Sensinbrackers private home address.
Eddie ran it through the printer and quickly cleared the screen.
“Hey, you just clicked out of my work!” Wade shouted, clearly expressing his anger through the veins that clutched at his neck.
“Man, sorry,” Eddie smiled apologetically and ripped the paper from the printer.
“If it means anything,” Eddie assured Wade with a hand on his shoulder, “I saved your work for you.”
“Oh. Well… don’t scare me like that,” Wade said with a relieved laugh, and clapped Eddie on the back.
Eddie winced and hobbled out the door to his car. His relationship with Wade was one of muscle vs. brain. He was the proverbial Jerry-mouse while Wade was the Tom-cat. Tom could always pounced on Jerry, but it was Jerry who would always manage to be just a bit too smart to remain in the cat’s grasp. Eddie smirked and adjusted imaginary whiskers as he slid behind the wheel.

*to be continued*