Sheba's Gambit

by Kristine Frost

  “I’ll find your dog as soon as you’re safe. He’ll be close.”

  They began walking across the highway. Sheba waved a thank you to the cars that stopped, letting them cross. Braden picked up the woman’s white cane.

  Sheba said, “Stay here with my nephew. I’ll see if I can find your dog.”

  The woman grabbed her hand. “His name is Russell. He’s a Golden Retriever.”

  “Aunt Sheba, could that be Russell down there? I think that’s a Golden Retriever.” Braden pointed toward the intersection.

  The woman said, “I’m Helen. I would appreciate it if you would guide me to Russell.”

  Sheba put Helen’s hand on her arm. “This way.”

  When they got to Russell, Helen joyfully hugged her dog. “Sit, Russell.” She fumbled, make the handle fit the harness but Russell twisted away.”

  Sheba said, “Let me try.” When she touched the harness, Russell yelped.

  “Wait a sec, boy. Something’s wrong. Let me see what the problem is.” Gently, Sheba ran her hands under the thick leather bands. Something pricked her finger. Carefully, she unbuckled one strap and felt his fur. Buried deep was a black briar. She worked it free, dropping it to the ground.

  “That should feel better,” she said as she buckled the strap. She carefully inserted the handle into the two slots on either side of the harness.

  Russell licked her hand.

  “You’re welcome.” Sheba said with a smile.

  She had just put the handle in Helen’s hand when a black Porsche screeched to the side of the road. A big man strode toward the group. His head was shaven and his eyes were hidden by dark, reflective sunglasses.

  Grabbing off his sunglasses, he glared at Sheba. Braden took a step toward his aunt. Sheba had the urge to step back, but she fought it.

  “What are you doing to my sister?” He snarled.

  Before she could answer, Helen said, “Michael. Stop it! She saved my life. She found Russell for me. You should be thanking her instead of scaring her to death.”

  After a struggle. he said, “Thank you.” Then he grabbed Helen’s arm, marching her toward his car.

  When the black car pulled away, Braden looked up at her. “He was scary.” When she nodded, he added in a solemn voice. “I didn’t like his tattoo. I don’t like snakes.”

  “We don’t need to worry about him. We’ll probably never see him again.”

  At that moment, the shuttle pulled up. Braden ran joyfully up the steps.

  --------

  Sheba hung up the phone. She looked over at Braden who was playing with some Star Wars action figures he had purchased that day.

  “I’ve decided to get a rental car for tonight. Mrs. Layton lives a long way out in the country. I just hope we can find it.”

  He glanced disdainfully over at her two year old smart phone. “Does your phone have GPS?”

  “No, Mr. Smart-aleck, but we can always use yours.” Braden’s phone was the latest, most expensive version of the IPhone. It was an ego thing with her sister.

  She looked at her watch. “I think I’ll go sign the contract. I don’t want to worry about it later.” I am so nervous I can barely stand the wait. What if she decides at the last minute that the two hundred dollars I brought isn’t enough. I have to have that diary. I have to!

  Braden looked up at her. “You want to get that book as much as I want to go on the Transformers ride, don’t you?”

  His voice made her jump. “I guess I do.” She admitted.

  He smiled. “Well, Bumblebee and I will get you there. I promise?”

  She looked confused. “Bumblebee?”

  “My phone’s name is Bumblebee.” He said impatiently.

  “I’m sure that you two will help me a lot.” She picked up her room key. “Stay here until I get back, okay?”

  “Okay.” He picked up Darth Vader, carefully adjusting his light saber.

  An hour later, Sheba said, “Braden, let’s go. I can’t wait any longer” She turned off the Star Wars rerun.

  “But Aunt Sheba, it’s just getting to the good part.”

  “Braden, you think every part is a good part. You can finish it at home.”

  He groaned loudly, but followed her to the door. “I hope you got a cool car.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. She’d gotten what she could afford. Braden wouldn’t consider it cool.

  As they walked toward the Dodge Cobalt, Braden said, “Aunt Sheba, that’s a granny car. If my friends saw me, they’d, they’d--”

  “They aren’t going to see you. It’s all I can afford.” Sheba snapped.

  “My mom says that your obsession is costing you way too much money. Money that you can’t afford.” He sounded just like her sister. He had even caught the tone of her voice.

  Sheba clamped her teeth on the words that rushed into her mouth. Easy, girl. That’s just your sister talking so don’t take it out on Braden. He’s doesn’t realize how nasty your sister’s comments can be.

  Braden looked at her face, then said in a small voice. “I’m sorry, Aunt Sheba. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  She hugged him fiercely. “I know you didn’t,” she said softly.

  He hugged her back. “We’d better go.”

  She released him, carefully wiping the tears away so she didn’t smear her make-up.

  Even with Bumblebee’s help, it took nearly an hour to find Mrs. Layton’s antebellum mansion hidden away deep in alligator country. As they drove up the long, rutted driveway, Braden said, “Wow. I wish my mom could see this house. She’d be blown away.”

  “Yeah,” Sheba agreed. But she saw what he didn’t see. The trees were overgrown. The gardens were more weeds than flowers. The grass really needed fertilizer. It hadn’t visited with a lawnmower for weeks.

  Feeling uneasy, she backed the car into an alcove in the trees so that was nearly hidden by the bushes growing around it.

  Catching her feeling of unease, he looked up at her, “I don’t like this place. I hope we don’t find a dead body like in CSI. He looked around. “This reminds me of the haunted house we went to last Halloween.”

  “I know.” Sheba said softly.

  Walking carefully, they crossed the dilapidated porch. She knocked on the door.

  The door creaked open. A very old woman in a powered wheel chair appeared in the opening. She eyed them with suspicion.

  “Mrs. Layton? I’m Sheba Bentley. This is Braden.”

  The woman pulled on the joystick. Her heavy chair moved backwards. “Come in.” She said. Her voice was gravelly like she had been a heavy smoker all her life.

  They followed her through a beautiful, elegant foyer that was totally devoid of furniture. The pale cream and brown striped wall paper had darker patches that showed where huge pictures had once hung. The brown and white tiled squares were gritty under foot.

  She led them into a large room at the back of the house. This room, clearly the library was much cleaner than the foyer. There was little furniture. The bookshelves were nearly empty, only a few damaged books remained leaning crookedly on each other.

  Sheba’s eyes were immediately drawn to a couple of books and a rolled up paper lying on a side table.

  “Sit down,” Mrs. Layton said, pointing to the sofa.

  “Thank you,” Sheba said as she took Braden’s hand. She was sitting next to the pile of books, but good manners kept her from picking them up.

  Mrs. Layton said, “I’m surprised that you are so interested in the Kingdom of Sheba. You’re pretty young to be as obsessed as your father.”

  “I’m not obsessed.” Sheba protested. “I’m just interested because my father named me after Sheba.”

  Braden shook her arm. “What does obsessed mean?”

  Sheba said, “It means that you feel strongly about something.”

  Mrs. Layton laughed harshly. The laugh breaking into a hacking cough. “Child, it means that you can’t think of anything else. You wan
t it more than anything else in the world.”

  Braden looked up at her. “I think she’s right. I think you are obsessed with finding Sheba.” He said, a little sadly.

  “The child’s wiser than you are, my dear.” Mrs. Layton said, adding, “So tell me what you know of Sheba.”

  When she hesitated, Mrs. Layton said, “You won’t get the books, otherwise.”

  “Books?”

  “Yes, books!”

  Sheba said, “I’ve read my father’s research. I know that he and your husband investigated legends of finds in the Sudan and Yemen. My father leaned toward the Sudan, but I don’t think he’s right. I’ve been thinking about the barges mentioned in the Bible. The Queen of Sheba goes to Jerusalem to meet King Solomon because she is concerned that Solomon is going to conquer her kingdom. David never conquered Egypt and the Sudan is below Egypt so why would she be afraid. She would have to travel over land to get to Jerusalem so why did Solomon load her barges with gold?”

  Sheba swallowed. “I think the land of Sheba was in the other direction, toward Turkey. The barges make sense then.”

  The old woman nodded her head. “Yes, you follow the reasoning that my husband used. He never told your father about his theory. You don’t seem to have your father’s arrogance. I find your humility refreshing.”

  “Thank you.” Sheba said in what she hoped was a humble tone.

  “Do you have the money we agreed on?”

  Sheba opened her purse, taking out two hundred dollars in used twenty dollar bills. “I don’t have enough to purchase two books. I was only planning on one.”

  “I like you,” Mrs. Layton said. “I believe that John would have liked you much better than he liked your father. I will give you everything for two hundred dollars.” The woman motioned to the books on the table. “The rolled parchment is his map of that area. Take that too. It won’t do me much good.”

  Eagerly, Sheba picked up the books, one at a time, thumbing through them carefully. Then she glanced at the map. It seemed to be of Turkey.

  There was a gust of wind. The curtains that shrouded the windows on each side of the fireplace blew in. Braden grabbed her arm. “There’s someone behind that curtain.” He whispered frantically.

  Sheba grabbed the books. There was a small phut. The old woman gasped in pain, a red stain appearing on her chest. “Go,” the word gurgled up, barely audible.

  “Aunt Sheba, let’s go. He’s going to kill us.”

  She looked toward the woman. I want to help you, but I can’t risk Braden.

  Hating herself, she ran out of the room, propelling Braden before her.

  There was a thud as a bullet hit the wall next to her head. She jerked, dropping one of the books, but Braden caught it before it hit the floor. She pushed the door open with her shoulder, tripping over Braden who had caught his foot in the loose door sill. Slamming the door behind them, they flew across the lawn to where the car was hidden.

  Fumbling for the keys, she pushed the button to open the doors. She tossed the books in the back seat, not realizing that she had lost the map as she ran.

  With shaking hands, she turned the key. The engine roared to life. Carefully, she pressed on the gas, trying to avoid skidding on the wet, muddy grass. They lurched onto the driveway, flying over the ruts.

  “Braden,” she said, not daring to take her eyes off the road. “Are we being followed? I can’t see anyone.”

  As he turned to look behind them, she could see the tears on his cheeks. “I don’t see anyone,” he said in a small voice.

  ---------

  Michael Slater stood in the window of the mansion watching the tail lights disappear. He laughed softly to himself. He’d seen her clumsy attempt to hide the car. He had attached a homing GPS to the bumper. The shot he had taken at her had missed on purpose. He owed her one chance for rescuing Helen. He could find her any time he wanted her. Let the chase begin. She was hopelessly outclassed, he thought with amusement.

  ---------

  As they drove rapidly away from the mansion, Sheba thought, I owe it to Mrs. Layton to call the police, but that would mean hours of talking to the police for both of us. I can’t subject Braden to that. It’s bad enough that he saw her get shot. He’ll be warped for life. How can I help him understand this when I don’t understand it.

  As she slowed for a red light about ten miles from the mansion, she noticed a Piggly Wiggly store just beyond the light. I wonder if they have a pay phone.

  As soon as the light turned green, she turned into the parking lot. As she drove toward the store, she looked for a pay phone.

  Braden was still watching the rear view mirror out his window. She put her hand on his arm. “I think we lost him. I haven’t seen a car behind us since we left the mansion. Have you?

  He shook his head. She shot him a worried glance.

  Why did I have to take him with me? I should have left him at the apartment. Her alter ego said, you were going to leave a eight-year-old alone at night in a strange city? Of course not, her mind shot back. Did you know the old woman was going to get shot? No? If you didn’t then quit beating yourself up and help him.

  “Hey sweetie, do you see a pay phone?”

  “Over there,” he said pointing at the exit door. “Why do you want a pay phone? You can use Bumblebee.”

  “I was thinking of calling the police, but I’m afraid they might think we had something to do with it.”

  “So you want to use the pay phone anon-anony--”

  “Anonymously.”

  “Yeah. I think that would be good. I’ll pull up the address on Bumblebee so you can give it to them.”

  Sheba pulled into a parking spot. She left the car running as she opened the door. Braden turned the key.

  “The guys on CSI said that you shouldn’t act like you’re in a hurry. Just make the call, then walk back slowly. If you walk fast people will remember you.”

  What in the world is Theo thinking about? He’s way too young for CSI. I’m sure she’s not watching them with him. Sometimes I think that woman is insane. Then the voice said sharply, she is, but you’re the one who exposed him to a real murder.

  “You should probably go into the store after you call them so no one will suspect you.” Braden said.

  “I’m not leaving you alone in this car while I go into a store, not after what happened.”

  “Okay. I’ll come with you. No one would expect a woman with a kid to be calling the police.” He pulled a tissue out of the box on the floor. “You don’t want to leave fingerprints.”

  Her mind flashed back to her conversation with Jen. “You’d think he stepped out of an eighteen century novel, he’s so prim, proper, and well-mannered. He even talks like an adult.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she took the tissue. Suddenly she reached across the console hugging him tightly. “Braden, I’m so sorry that you had to see that.”

  He hugged her back. “It didn’t seem very real. It was kind of like stuff I’ve seen on TV only it was like I was in an IM-IM. He paused. “I’m talking about the theater with those huge screens. The ones where it seems like you are actually there.”

  “Do you mean an IMAC theater?”

  “Yeah.” He wiped the tears on his cheeks. “Do you think she felt it?”

  “Without thinking, she said, “I doubt if it hurt more than poking your finger with a pin. It was over too fast.”

  Braden nodded. “I hope it didn’t hurt.”

  “Me, too,” Sheba pushed open her door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Aunt Sheba, do you think we could get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  “Good idea. Maybe we should buy a funny video to take our minds off of things.”

  Braden said thoughtfully, “I wonder if they have--”

  ---------

  The next morning, Sheba stood on the balcony twisting her hands. Why did I leave that old woman? I might have been able to help her.

  Braden stood watching her, t
hen he gently touched her arm. “Are you thinking about last night?”

  When she nodded, he said, “You couldn’t have saved her. I’ve watched enough TV to know that.”

  “I should have tried,” she said, hating herself for not being able to let it go.

  “But that man might have shot you or me.” His voice broke. “I’d die if he shot you.”

  A pang of guilt shot through her, a different kind of guilt. “I’m not sad about saving you,” Sheba protested. “I just feel badly because I liked her.”

  The flat tone in his voice caught his attention. She mentally kicked herself. Sheb, you idiot. If you’re having trouble with Mrs. Layton’s death, how do you think Braden feels?

  She put her arms around him. “Braden, are you okay? I’m so sorry that you saw what happened last night.”

  He shrugged. His blue eyes filled with tears. “It doesn’t seem real.” His voice held a note of panic. “Aunt Sheba, why doesn’t it feel real to me? I liked her. It felt real last night, but now-”

  “Easy, hon. What you’re feeling is called shock. You probably keep thinking about it, right?” She put her arm around him. He nodded.

  “That’s okay. Don’t try to stop thinking about it. If you don’t try to stop it, it will stop by itself.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Don’t tell my mom I cried. She wants me to be a credit to her. I try. I really try, but sometimes, I just want to be me.”

  Sheba’s eyes filled with tears. I could kill Theo. He is only eight. He shouldn’t have to be a credit. I so wanted this vacation to be fun. I wanted it to be something he wouldn’t forget, but now he won’t want to remember it at all.

  “Hey, do you think going to Universal Studios today would help you forget about last night.” She said seductively, “They have the Transformer’s ride.”

  “Do you think Mrs. Layton would mind if we had fun?” He looked worried.

  “Sweetie, I think that she’d tell us to go for it. She wouldn’t want you to feel bad that she’s dead. In fact, I suspect that she didn’t have much longer to live anyway.”