by D. C. Gomez
I had never been to the Salvation Army either. I was feeling like a bad member of society. I wasn’t volunteering or aiding people in any way. At the same time, when you were struggling from paycheck to paycheck, it was hard to look out for the needy. If I didn’t die in this case, maybe I could actually help somewhere.
The Salvation Army comprised two large buildings sitting at Fourth Street and Hazel. I was pretty sure I had passed it on my way to Randy Sam’s from Saint Ed. Maybe Constantine was right and I was losing my touch at paying attention to my surroundings. I had developed tunnel vision and was missing details. I had no idea where I was going, so I tried the first building with open doors. An older man sat behind the reception desk.
“Hi, Miss. How can I help you?” He had a friendly smile and a hint of a Southern accent. Anytime I lived in a place for a while, I stopped hearing people’s accents. So his must have been really pronounced for me to notice.
“Good afternoon, sir. I was looking for my friend and wondered if you had seen him. His name is Bob, and he’s about six feet tall and maybe two hundred pounds.” Next time I was getting a picture of Bob. This was ridiculous.
“Sorry, ma’am, we don’t have any Bobs at this time. Weird; it’s such a common name. But things have been weird lately.” He stared at the door pensively. I looked over my shoulder, wondering what I was missing.
“Are you OK, sir?” Why beat around the bush?
“Texarkana is a midpoint. People pass through this town all the time. We normally get people with no place to stay who are heading west to Dallas, leaving Shreveport, or going in any other direction. Lately, nobody new has come in. It’s like people are staying away on purpose. You’re the first new person I’ve seen in two weeks.” He stared at me with deep-brown eyes. He looked worried and a bit scared.
“Has that ever happened before?”
“No. Some of our regulars have stopped coming. Even one of our volunteers quit. He said that something evil was around here.”
“That is really odd. Well I guess I will be leaving.” No reason to stay with the creepy old man at the Salvation Army. “Bye.” It was still the South, you had to be polite.
“Miss, you should check out the Church under the Bridge. They have masses Saturdays at 9am, rain or shine. If you don’t find your friend by then, maybe he goes there. A lot of the homeless take mass there and have a warm breakfast.”
“Thank you very much.” I had stopped at the door. He smiled kindly but sad.
“Good bye Miss, come again. Hope you find your friend.” He waved a lazy hand at me, and went back to staring out the window.
It appeared the word was getting out that Texarkana was not safe for the transient population. That was a blessing, less people to worried about. I got in Bumblebee and pulled out of the parking space. I had a horrible habit of checking my mirrors at least five time. As I pulled up to the intersection, a black car pulled out of the end of the street. I hadn’t seen anyone sitting in any of the cars parked. Called me paranoid, but my week was kind of sucking and I did not want to be followed.
If they were following me, they were going to have to work for it. I drove around downtown making crazy turns without using my turn signal. Something that drove me nuts when others did it. The black car was still behind me. It was a few car lengths behind, but still there. Not something that I enjoyed. I drove towards Saint Edward, then back to the library. I made several loops hoping to lose them, but they were right behind me.
I took a quick turned onto Broad Street. My goal was to head down towards Texas Boulevard, and then head home. I was going way passed the speed limit when I saw flashing lights behind me. I wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. I pulled over, and saw the Black car drive by. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see who was driving. Fortunately for me, they couldn’t see my face either.
I glanced behind me and the cop was getting out of his car. It was no other than Officer Sexy-Butt. Great, kept getting better and better. That man probably though I was a menace on wheels.
“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?” Officer sexy-butt was not smiling and kept looking over Bumblebee.
“Fast enough for you to stop me officer. I’m sorry.” Being followed by random cars made people distracted.
“That is not the only reason I stopped you. We received several calls of a yellow Camaro driving around downtown very suspiciously. You are not good at blending, are you?” He took of his sunglasses and was starting at me. “Ms. Black, you seen to be in all the wrong places. Let me guess, you were looking for your friend, right?” Wow, he looked menacing when he was mad. He radiated energy like a little microwave, I was sure I was getting dizzy.
“I didn’t know there was a law against looking for people or driving around downtown.” He was not going to intimidate me.
“You are right, there is not a law but you are making people nervous. It doesn’t helped that your mini-van mysteriously got blown up. Now you are driving a flashy brand new Camaro. Can I see your license, insurance and registration, please?” He said please as an afterthought,
I prayed Constantine kept his information in the glove compartment. I opened the drawer and for the mercy of God everything was there. Actually that was the cleanest drawer I had ever seen. Constantine was pretty anal about his car. I handed Officer Cranky Pants the papers and my license. If I got Constantine’s Bumblebee impounded he was going to killed me.
He took the papers and headed back to his cruiser. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but he came back five minutes later.
“So you work for Reapers, interesting. Everything is cleared; here you go.” He handed me back all my documents.
“That’s it? You’re not even going to give me a warning?” What was wrong with me? Did I really want a ticket? I was losing my mind, asking an angry cop stupid questions.
“Why? I already gave you a warning, and you didn’t listen to it. So here you are again, racing down my streets. Would you like to fill me in on what’s going on?”
Ouch. He did have a point.
“Would you believe me if I said it was a top-secret mission and that I was innocent?”
The look he gave me said no. He was not believing a word I said.
“Can you at least tell me who blew up your van?” No, he didn’t buy it.
“I’m guessing the same people who slashed my tires. I have a winning personality.” My charm was not working. Not that I had that much to begin with.
“You do know how to make friends. Let me explain something. I don’t like being in the dark. This is my city, and if something is going on, I expect to know.” Sexy Pants had that evil glare again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeah, like I was confessing to this cop that I was chasing witches in downtown Texarkana. I might as well put on a strait jacket and save the authorities the trouble.
“That’s what I thought. You’re all the same. Tell Constantine I’ll be there in the morning.” He turned around and walked off. Constantine? He had called Constantine instead of his dispatcher.
I was totally confused. Who was this cop, and how did he know Constantine? I was sure I was missing something. What did he mean, he would see him tomorrow? My life was getting more and more complicated. There were too many people involved in this supernatural stuff to keep up. I still had no idea where these witches were hiding or who they were. We were running out of time and places to look. On top of that, now I had an angry cop after me. This was not a good day.
I needed cheering up, so I decided to stop by Taste and See on my way home. The owners were locals and very nice people. They had the best gelato in town. Actually, they had the only gelato store in town. I also wanted to say thank you to Bartholomew for lunch. I wasn’t sure what his favorite flavor was, so I got him salted caramel. It was one of their classics, and you could never go wrong with that. I got an espresso flavor for Constantine. He looked like the caffeine type. For me, I got a double scoop of tiramisu
and cookies and cream. Hey, I didn’t have a gluten intolerance. I could indulge. Happy with my delicious surprises, I headed back to Reapers. Who said I didn’t know how to bribe people?
CHAPTER 20
By the time I pulled into Reapers, I was exhausted. I was slowly making myself more upset over that crazy cop. Did he know I was an intern? If he did, didn’t he know the rules? What did he mean, we were all the same? I had more questions than answers. I parked Bumblebee in its designated spot by the Deathmobile. It was such an odd combination of cars. I shook my head.
I struggled to balance all the desserts. I had taken mine out earlier instead of leaving everything in the nice packing job the girls at the store had done. Some things were hard to resist. Doors were a bit more challenging. I managed to make it to the kitchen table in the loft without spilling anything. Bartholomew was at his command center, and Constantine was napping on the top of the sofa. From my angle, it looked as if Bartholomew was actually playing a game.
“Hi, Isis. Welcome back,” Bartholomew said, barely looking up at me.
“Hi, Bart. I got you some gelato, if you can take a break.” I was expecting complaints or grumbling. Instead I got both Bartholomew and Constantine at the table in less than two seconds flat. I swore Bartholomew dropped his controller and ran over. Constantine snapped his eyes open at the word “gelato,” and he was across the room before I could finish.
“Did I get one too?” For a five-thousand-year-old cat, Constantine was looking like a kitten right now.
“Of course you did. Espresso for you, and salted caramel for Bart.” I placed bowls in front of them.
Bartholomew pulled two chairs out, and they took their respective places. Constantine licked his without much preamble. “This is delicious. Thank you. I could sing, because I’m happy.”
I laughed. Constantine was amazing at impersonations. Pharrell was in trouble.
“Yes, thank you, Isis. What made you decide to get us gelato?” Bartholomew barely stopped eating as he spoke.
“Bad day. I figured we all needed a break.”
“Emotional eating. Bad sign. We might need to add more run time to help you burn some emotions and calories.” I couldn’t tell if Constantine was serious or not.
“He’s just messing with you,” Bartholomew said, reading the worried looked on my face.
Constantine winked at me with a devious grin. Yeah, he was good.
“What did you get?” Like most cats, he was also extremely curious and nosy.
“I got tiramisu and cookies and cream.”
“Wow, you are having a bad day. What happened?” Constantine actually looked concerned for me.
“Nothing. That’s the problem. I found out nothing. Father Francis hasn’t seen any strangers around his church, but the spirits are anxious. Did you know I can see dead people?”
“Uh, don’t say that phrase around Death. She’s still mad about the intern who helped with that weird film. But technically, you see souls. Remember, we are in the soul business. Comes with Death’s gifts.” Constantine was back in his teacher’s mode.
“Great. I’m not happy. Souls talked to me and even touched me. How is that possible?”
“Because Death can talk to and touch the souls. In case of a horrible major disaster, interns can function as Death’s representative in ushering the souls. You need the gift.” I was pretty sure Constantine enjoyed lecturing me.
“Do I want to know what kind of major disasters?”
Both Constantine and Bartholomew shook their heads in unison. When the boys were synchronized, the answer was not a good one. I decided to drop it.
“Did you go anywhere else? You were gone a really long time.” Constantine was back to business.
“Did you like your lunch?” Oh, wow, I had totally forgotten to thank Bartholomew when I came in.
“Yes. Thank you so much. That was so sweet of you. I was going to tell you it wasn’t necessary, but I was starving. Thank you.”
“Anytime. You’re always running late, so I figured I could help.” Bartholomew was smiling in between mouthfuls. All I could do was smile back.
Constantine cleared his throat.
“Oh, sorry. I went to Randy Sam’s and made a little volunteer girl paranoid. People are staying inside during the day. At least nobody will try to kidnap them while they’re in groups.” I stopped to eat my last spoonful of gelato. I should have bought more. “On my way, I stopped by the Salvation Army and met another creepy volunteer. The volunteers in this town are a bit weird.”
“You were busy.” Bartholomew was trying to be supportive.
“Oh, it gets better. I was followed by a car leaving the Salvation Army and then got pulled over by the same cop, Officer Smith. I think that man hates me. By the way, why is he coming over tomorrow?”
“To be your partner for our hand-to-hand combat training.” Constantine had a way of delivering bad news with very little feeling. I was going to kill him.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.” At least I managed not to sound too bewildered. But it was hard to contain the surprise on my face.
“He’s a wizard. He’s also the one who’s been making the shakes. Pretty good cop too.”
Now I was truly speechless. Why was every guy I found hot something out of this world?
“Constantine, I don’t think that’s a good idea. The man hates me.” If not hate, he really despised me.
“Stop being so judgmental. He might surprise you. So be ready bright and early. He’ll be here by six.”
Thanks, Constantine, for the great news. Now I was never going to sleep.
“By the way, Isis, you have a message. That boy from Abuelita’s stopped by today. He left this for you.” Bartholomew passed me an envelope with my name on it.
The only boy from Abuelita’s who came to mind was Angelito. I wasn’t sure why Angelito would be leaving me notes. He had my cell phone. Why didn’t he just text me? By the time I opened the damn letter, I was worried. This could be really bad. I decided to read the letter out loud, for the boys’ sake.
“Hey, Isis, the girls who jumped you will be at Shooters tonight. Be careful. They’re a bunch of biker chicks—very dangerous.” That was the whole note.
“Why is he telling you this?” Bartholomew had read my mind. “Something’s not right about this. Why didn’t he just call you?”
“I have no idea, Bart. Maybe I could follow them and find Bob and the rest of the people.”
“Isis, Bartholomew is right. This could be a trap.” Constantine was still as he spoke, and every word was precise.
“Why would Angelito be working with the witches?” Angelito was not a bad guy, clueless about girls.
“Boys do dumb things for girls. Trust me; I’ve seen it through the centuries.” That one I truly believed. Constantine was right, and Angelito was notorious for poor decisions when it came to girls.
“Unless you have a better idea, guess I’ll be going out tonight.” I dropped my cup and spoon in the trash can. Bartholomew and Constantine just watched me and said nothing. I went directly to my room.
I was very confused about the note. Angelito had never sent me a note before. None of it made sense. I sat down on my bed, contemplating the note again. I lay down and debated texting Angelito for more info. I was more tired than I thought, because I passed out. It was eight thirty in the evening when I woke up. I wasn’t sure what time the witches would be at Shooters, but I needed to hurry. I took a quick shower and grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt. Normally I avoided makeup at all costs. Today I added mascara and eyeliner to my face. I didn’t want to attract too much attention while I was there. I finished dressing and headed back out toward the kitchen door.
“How was your nap? You look refreshed,” Bart said from across the room.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Constantine was still at the kitchen table, this time staring at me.
“What do you mean?” What was he talking about?
“Dress
ed like that. You look like Lil Wayne or that other guy. What’s his name?” Constantine looked over at Bartholomew.
“Tony Hawk,” Bart said.
“Yes, thank you, Bartholomew. That’s the one. Isis, why are you dressed like a skater kid?”
Did I really look like a skater?
“This was what I wore when I went to clubs in New York City.” Nobody was complaining up north.
“Girl, those were hip-hop clubs. Besides, it was New York. Here, you need to dress to fit in. Like a girl, not a twelve-year-old boy.”
I had boobs. I did not look like a twelve-year-old boy. Constantine was a horrible career counselor.
“I like what I’m wearing. No need to get all sorts of mean about it.” I was whining, but I didn’t care.
“Isis, don’t be silly. You’re in Texarkana. Please put some on tight-fitting clothes, like most girls in this area. Remember, recon operation. Don’t draw any more attention to yourself.”
Constantine had a point. I needed to blend in. “Bart, do I really look that bad?”
He paused for a second. “You look really cool, but definitely skater boy.” I dropped my head, defeated. “You won’t blend in at all.”
“Fine. I’ll go change. But I’m going on the record, this was not my idea.”
Being girlie was hard. Everything was always so complicated, from the hair to the clothes. Normally it took me less than ten minutes to get ready. I had been staring at the open door for almost thirty minutes. This was not going well. I hated dressing up, and this was a massacre. I found a pair of black leather pants I had bought for a Halloween party one year. I also found a tank top with patterns and jewelry. It was one of the few presents my godmother had given me that I didn’t hate. The combination was not bad at all. But I felt very self-conscious. I didn’t like tight clothes at all.
