by Samael Wolf
I couldn’t quite ‘see’ what she was doing either, but I had a guess that she had just pulled part of her top aside to bare her breasts. Unlike when Orkin spoke, her voice didn’t do much to clarify the image I was receiving, but I could see enough. “Don’t be like. I’m just showing you that I’m not… armed.” Somehow she managed to make the word sound like an invitation, which, combined with her actions, it clearly seemed to be.
Orkin sounded strained. “Ma’am, are you… aware that soliciting an officer is a felony?” He licked his lips and I shuddered, not liking where this was going at all.
“Is it really?” The woman sounded amused. Not in a funny ha-ha sort of way, but in the sort of way which suggested she had nothing but disdain for the idea. She seemed to straighten her top, though, and stepped back from the car, becoming even more indistinct. “Well, that’s no fun.”
“Yes,” Orkin breathed with a shallow laugh. Then, more loudly: “HQ, yes on the 125; 520.”
The reply was lost as the driver’s side door opened and shut, and after a bit of shuffling, their voices continued, more muffled now that both voices were coming from outside. My synesthesia was giving me almost nothing at this point, which was almost a relief.
Orkin again: “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to put your hands on the car.”
The woman came back into ‘view.’ “Oh, so you are interested?” A soft pair of odd scratching sounds painted her as leaning forward onto the car, her rear end lifted invitingly.
Orkin stepped closer as well, although he was just a ghostly shape. “Am I interested,” he echoed, his voice flat with disbelief. I shuddered. I could tell he was; I would have been, and I’m not sure why the woman was having that effect on me when everything in her voice indicated something bad was swiftly approaching.
“Is that a yes?” she cooed, her features edging further into clarity. I held my breath. She looked familiar, far too familiar, but I just couldn’t quite focus enough to recognize her.
After a long pause, Orkin spoke, a rasp making his voice even rougher. “Have you been taking drugs this evening?” When the woman didn’t answer, I heard him lean over her. “Ma’am? Have you—“
The audio suddenly cut away to the sound of sharp movements and Orkin let out a surprised grunt of pain. The images blurred chaotically as the two seemed to become one amorphous mass, and my head hurt trying to discern what was happening. Their bodies bumped hard against the car and the images cleared momentarily. Then Orkin made a noise that caused me to flinch and cover my ears, a piteous cry of agony that left no doubt as to how easily he had died. The woman seemed to be embracing him, or trying to keep him from falling, but she wasn’t saying anything. I could hear her breathing hard, but she wasn’t reacting like someone either trying to help or someone committing an act of violence.
It was horrible to listen to, worse to see it playing out. When at last the woman lowered him to the ground, I thought it was over. She was the only one still breathing, but now there was something else too. She moaned softly, in the manner of someone tasting something delicious. Oh, God, I thought, starting to tremble. I’d heard that moan when I’d cooked for my housemates.
I’d heard that exact moan.
Just like that, as if it had been waiting for that final clue, my synesthesia produced a crystal clear image of the woman, and yes, I knew her. Dear God, yes, I knew who that was, had no way of forgetting her after what had happened between us so recently. My breath froze in my throat as I choked on the first disbelieving sob, and then I was crying uncontrollably, frightened and unable to make sense of what I was seeing.
She had disguised her voice somehow, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was looking upon Esti, wearing a skimpy black clubbing dress that left precious little to the imagination. It wasn’t one I had ever seen before, but it was her style, as if the hair which threatened to drag upon the ground as she walked wasn’t a dead giveaway. But something was very wrong with this image, and not just because it suggested my housemate had been present for Officer Orkin’s demise.
I bit down on a sob and pinched myself. Hard. I failed to awaken.
I wasn’t dreaming this time, so that meant that I had to be hallucinating. There was no way I could accept what I was seeing was real. Esti was a great many things, but ‘winged’ was not one of them, and the woman in that video very clearly had wings like some sort of demonic creature.
Somehow I didn’t think I was going to get to sleep on time tonight.
Chapter Four
Tired or not, I slept miserably that night and waking up to go to class was the absolute last thing I felt like doing. I made myself go anyway and managed, through some miracle, to find a mind-set that let me commit total attention to the instructor’s lecture. I doubt I’d ever taken notes so detailed before; they were nearly verbatim. Too bad the class was Disability and Society and the topic was increased reliance on computer systems in the workplace, where, on a better day, I probably could have led the class in a discussion and covered most of the same points just based on my own personal experience. Considering how badly I’d slept and what was haunting my thoughts, I’d be lucky if the notes helped me remember that I’d even been to class.
My sleeping habits had been so topsy-turvy that I almost forgot I was working at the No-Name that day. It felt like circumstances were conspiring to keep me busy all day long, when what I really wanted to do was find Esti and ask her what was going on. I did have a little time between the end of class and when I had to go to work, but Esti had class at this time on Tuesdays. I paced in circles around my room, eating the other half of a leftover gyro from Monday that I had forgotten to warm up and now couldn’t be bothered, while I wondered what I would even say to her when I got a chance. ‘Hello, how have you been since we slept together, and by the way, did you recently grow wings and somehow murder an abusive husband the other night?’ Yes, that was the trick; just work it in subtly. No problem!
I had no proof that it was actually her, anyway. Even the people who knew I could get visuals of people through audio alone would be very skeptical if I told them what I had actually seen, and for that matter, what I hadn’t. The woman in the video had certainly sounded ominous, but I hadn’t seen anything to contradict the coroner’s report that Zackary Orkin had died of heart failure, plain and simple. I had to assume he knew his business and had checked for any injuries which would have led to the heart stopping. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she had done something, and that it was somehow tied in with my visual of her with wings.
And that made me want to scream, because I was walking down a road of clinical insanity. I was seriously suggesting that Esti was some sort of demonic entity with supernatural powers. It was ridiculous and I didn’t want to believe it. I was a perfectly well-grounded woman with plans to go into a profession that would make a huge impact on people’s lives, namely by saving them, and I was on track to carry those plans to fruition. I didn’t need demons or superheroes in my life to give it meaning. I couldn’t even say I was breaking under the strain of my own high expectations; now that I was in college, my life had actually slowed down a lot. Oh, sure, I had no doubt I had some unresolved issues stemming from being abandoned when I was a toddler, but this seemed like an odd way for them to start manifesting, and why now, after over a decade since I was adopted?
Unless it was tied in with the way I saw the world itself. Synesthesia usually yielded very consistent anomalous sensation, but it was a documented medical fact that mine was unique. Who was to say it would always remain as precise as it had been all my life? What if everyone soon began sporting wings, cat ears, and other bizarre appendages?
All I could think of to do was find out if Esti really had been there that night, and I had an idea how to go about doing that which didn’t involve asking questions that made me sound like I was suffering a fit of paranoia. I just didn’t like it. It involved violating Esti’s privacy, and whether or not I was dealing with a potential
murderer, I was having a hard time feeling like the ends justified the means. Peeking into her room to check on her was one thing, but rifling through her belongings just felt wrong. I didn’t even know what I would do if I found proof she had really been there! And if she hadn’t, then all I would have to show for it would be evidence that I was delusional. It seemed like a lose-lose proposition.
Which is why I was feeling absolutely terrible about myself when I finally cracked open her door and crept inside, trying to keep an ear out in case someone came home early. The room was colder than I expected for a warm August day. Although I could smell traces of her favorite perfume, the scent was old, as if the room had been left uninhabited for some time. Feeling more uncertain by the second, I hugged myself and took a careful look around. If I was here, I might as well satiate my curiosity. One never knew where I might find a stack of confessions to unexplained deaths in the city, right?
One thing which struck me immediately was how spartan the room was, even in comparison to mine. There were no pictures on the walls, no stuffed animals or other obviously cherished adornments lying around, no houseplant or really anything colorful to brighten any part of the room. Her bed was a futon mattress with plain sheets. She had a desk piled with haphazardly arranged folders and textbooks, but no laptop, and an unzipped suitcase appeared to contain most of her personal belongings. I shied away as my synesthesia supplied me with a view of the assorted leather goods and objects whose purpose I could guess but would rather not. I knew Esti had a kinky side, but frankly that was even less my business than what I was here for.
I carefully walked over to the closet, although I’m not sure why; there was nothing to trip over. This is such a bad idea, I thought as I pulled open the sliding door and focused on what was inside. The variety of clothes was simultaneously reassuring and a little surprising. Esti had outfits for every occasion, including four formal dress outfits, two of which wouldn’t have been amiss at a wedding or dinner at a fancy restaurant. I saw clothing I could readily imagine being worn at any of the local clubs, and the variety would be sufficient to cover nearly any theme night. My attention passed over a couple of bundles of leather and what looked like PVC and snagged on a uniform at the far end of the closet, a kind I had only ever seen in anime enthusiast magazines. Hadn’t Esti once told me she had lived in Japan for a time? It was somewhere in her little rant about all the places she’d lived and the languages she spoke.
It was between the hanger with the folds of plastic and the strange school uniform. I couldn’t be content to see it in my mind. With a trembling hand, I reached past the fetish costumes and touched it. Black, if my synesthesia could still be trusted. I traced it with my fingertips: skimpy enough that a person could bare their breasts just by hooking a finger in the fabric and pulling it aside. Definitely a clubbing dress for a person who didn’t mind being looked upon lustfully.
There was plenty of room in the back for a pair of demonic wings, too.
I briefly entertained a fantasy of skipping work and being there when Esti entered her room to find me sitting on her bed with the dress beside me, but I quickly thought better of it. I still wasn’t sure what I would do with the knowledge I now had, but that was a good reason not to act on it immediately. If I was lucky, I might even be able to add to it. There was one other person I knew who was familiar with Esti, and conveniently, I didn’t even have to make a detour to meet her.
The walk to work seemed to go quicker than normal, probably because I was walking with a purpose today. I waited at every crosswalk with impatience, barely needing the electronic chirps to tell me when I could cross. I had to be single-minded right now. If I stopped to think too long, I’d start questioning my sanity again. Work was the last thing on my mind, although that’s exactly where I was headed.
Wonders be, Sae was at the counter today despite only there only being two people sharing a table in the dining area. I forced a smile as I walked in, folding my cane and tucking it away inside my purse. I checked my watch. “Tuesday, 1:41 P.M.” I hoped that would be enough time, considering I was still new to the business of clandestine interrogations and had no idea what I was doing.
“Hi Sae!” I said with only partially feigned cheer as I approached the counter. It was hard not to smile when she so visibly perked up as I entered. Just like a dog. Or, no, maybe a cat, I thought. No wonder I imagined her with cat ears.
“Hello Sanmei,” she replied brightly, with that faintly melodic quality I always thought of as a chirp in her voice. “Need a hand signing in?”
“No, thank you; I managed to get my phone to point to the right website,” I replied a little smugly. There’d been plenty of time waiting at those crosswalks, but I was still a bit proud of myself. “But I was hoping you could tell me what happened Thursday. I think I must have been half-asleep when you visited, because I remember opening the door and being surprised that you were there, and after that things get fuzzy.”
Sae chuckled and leaned on the counter. “There isn’t much more than that. I checked on you and you were looking pretty dead on your feet, so I made sure you got back to bed and then let myself out. Glad you’re feeling better now, though.”
“Thank you.” I paused and fished out my phone, swiping to unlock it so that I could sign into the website that tracked our hours. Our operation was pretty casual, but I tried to keep on top of this part of it when I could. I sometimes forgot to sign out in the evening and that wasn’t a habit I wanted to develop. I used the excuse of signing in to try and make my next statement more casual. “So you got to see my room, huh? I think you officially know more about me than I know about you now.”
“I didn’t see much,” Sae countered easily. I resisted the urge to frown at her. It was a neat deflection and I felt sublimely outmaneuvered. Once again, I cursed not being very good in social situations.
“But still, you even know where I live, while I barely know anything about you, and I’d like to know more about the friends of my friends,” I protested, trying not to let my frustration show.
“Really more ‘acquaintances’ than friends,” Sae said with a shrug. “There’s not that much to tell about me. I have two sisters and a brother and we’ve traveled a lot. I met Esti along the way and we’ve known each other for a couple of years now.”
Even this little was more than I had known previously. I motioned for her to wait a moment and darted across the room to fetch an apron, tying it around myself as I returned. Fortunately, it didn’t look like she had any inclination to leave quickly, although I honestly couldn’t say whether she was annoyed by my incessant questioning or not.
“Was that in Japan?” I asked breathlessly as I slipped around the counter, thanking God that today was being especially slow and giving me this chance to talk to her. “She said something about going to school there?”
Was it my imagination, or did Sae look a trifle uncertain? “Yes, Japan,” she said slowly, and then, as if seizing on my words, picked up steam. “At school. My siblings and I were all enrolled there.”
I felt a tickle of intuition. “And you knew each other for a few years before moving here?” When Sae nodded, I sucked in a breath. I don’t think she even noticed when I tuned out, remembering Esti’s rant, still fresh in my memory since encountering the Japanese uniform in her closet earlier:
‘My mother was Basque; my dad was German. He first met her in her home country and then they met again in Italy on vacation. Like fate, right? They stayed there a few years after I was born, doing their thing until I got older, and then we all moved to Korea when Dad landed a job teaching English. We went to America a few years after that and got stuck when 9/11 happened the day before we were supposed to go home. In the time it took them to get new tickets, they decided to stay instead, and we were there until their work visas expired. By then we were starting to hear about this place in Japan where I could get an education on the cheap, so they taught me Japanese to add to my headache. I know English, Basque, German, It
alian, Korean, Japanese and phone sex.
‘And the worst part of it is, I was only there about six months before I had to move again.’
Sae was still talking and I’m afraid I interrupted her, speaking the thought aloud even as it entered my mind. “How did you meet her years ago when she was only in Japan for a few months?”
Sae grew very still. “Well, we’d encountered each other a few times before that,” she amended, and even I could tell how implausible that sounded. She was off-balance, the answers no longer coming as easily as they had a moment ago. I sensed that if I was going to capitalize on this opportunity, it had to be right away, before she shut me down.
“Where? In America? Korea? Italy?” I challenged softly, stepping a little closer. “A family of four darting around the globe, encountering the same person several times?” I didn’t give her a chance to find an answer. This hadn’t gone at all how I’d planned, but I thought I saw a way I could salvage it. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. But something strange happened Saturday night, and Esti was involved. I saw something I can’t explain. You’re the only other person who knows anything about her. Please, if you can just tell me anything that might help, I’ll forget this whole thing and we can pretend it never happened.”
I held my breath. Sae stared at me for several seconds and I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Probably trying to decide if I’ve completely lost my mind, a cynical part of my brain whispered.
“What is it you think you saw?” she asked very quietly. The door dinged softly as a young man came in. I bit back my answer and forced a fake smile, greeted him and waited with as much patience as I could for him to order. Blessedly, although Sae took off her apron and stepped back, she didn’t take advantage of the lapse to rush off. I was conscious of her eyes the entire time. That was the point at which I realized that I had to choose how I was going to answer that question.
