by Frank Redman
Ray took another bite, grabbed a butter knife and with tremendous force, etched a line down the middle of the empty plate. My mouth dropped.
I glanced at Jenny, she had stopped chewing and her eyes were wide.
Ray swallowed the bite, then pressed the edge of the knife hard into the etched line. His teeth clenched and you could see muscles on the sides of his face bulge.
There was a sharp crack and a hard knock. The plate split in two and the knife thunked into the table. Other dishes on the table bounced.
He leaned in and stared at me. His eyes full of anger, hatred. Malice. Forearm muscles rippled as he squeezed the knife.
I became unnerved and pushed back from the table.
He said, in a nearly inaudible growl, “We break him.”
I involuntary whispered, “Oh my God.”
Jenny looked like she wanted to flee in terror.
Neither one of us said anything.
The restaurant was full and busy, with lots of chattering voices and clanking silverware. No one except us heard the noise from Ray’s power display.
Ray saw our waitress approaching, sat up and smiled as if nothing had happened.
The waitress asked if we wanted refills.
Jenny and I were still too dumbfounded to answer.
The waitress didn’t notice as she was captured by Ray’s smile.
He nodded affirmative for Jenny and I, then said, “It seems I may have cut too hard on this plate.”
The waitress then noticed the two broken halves of the plate in front of him. “Oh my stars! How could that happen? I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”
“No, not at all, ma’am. And it’s my fault, actually. I’m the one who should apologize.”
She said, “Nonsense! You can’t cut the plate in half!” She carefully picked up the pieces, “Heavens to Betsy,” and placed them on her serving tray. “Would you like anything else? On the house.”
Ray shook his head, smiling, “No, no, I’m good, thanks. And I would like to pay for that plate.”
She said again, “Nonsense,” then looked at Jenny and me to ask if we wanted anything.
We both shook our heads.
She left the ticket, apologized again and virtually begged us to let her know if we wanted anything else, no charge, then walked away.
Ray looked at us and said, “Want dessert?”
Jenny and I just shook our heads again.
I had never seen such an awesome display of strength. And how could he withstand the immense pain the knife handle must have caused to his palm as he bore down on the plate?
I wasn’t hungry any more.
Jenny didn’t seem to have an appetite either.
Ray’s plates were all clean. He said, “All right, then.” He grabbed the ticket for the cashier, left a Benjamin Franklin for the tip, and got up to leave.
After returning to ol’ Neb, I gave Tyler some leftovers, which he greedily enjoyed.
I had to admit, Ray’s plate breaking demonstration momentarily made me forget about my talk with Jenny.
I looked at her and pointed to the Cribbage board. “Two out of three?”
She shook her head.
It had turned dark outside while we were in the Barrel. That was good. It made me feel less conspicuous, with fewer eyeballs trying to peer into my past.
I looked at Tyler, who stretched on the bed to nap again. A thought occurred to me, and it was a true concern, not just another stall technique: Tyler needed exercise. He’d been cooped up for most of the past few days. Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely altruistic, but he needed exercise just the same.
“I need to take Tyler outside for some exercise. He’s going to get weak and atrophy from being so stagnant.”
Jenny smiled, a perceptive quality associated with the smile, of course. “The dog is not going to get fat by not exercising tonight.”
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that. His self-image is at stake.”
Tyler said, I would like a steak, medium rare, but that has nothing to do with my self-image.
I said, “Not that kind of steak.”
Jenny looked at me quizzically. “What?”
Ugh. “Never mind.”
Tyler, though laying on his side, wagged his tail, smiling at me. Got you.
I ignored him.
Jenny said, “Besides, it’s freezing outside.”
I peered through the windshield. “Um, no it’s not.”
She looked at me as if I had just tried to convince her that pimples were the new look.
Okay, fine, she deserved to look at me that way. We were in Nebraska. In December.
She opened a weather app on her phone, got the local report and showed me the big fat 0 for the temperature. As in 0 degrees.
I shrugged. “So it’s a little cold.”
“A bet’s a bet. You lost. You’re not getting out of it.”
“Don’t you have any sympathy? No compassion?”
“I’ve never been confused with Mother Theresa.”
“Okay, let me get a drink of water.” I stood—
“Ellie. Sit.”
I sat.
Tyler said, Hey, good boy. I’m proud of you.
I ignored him.
Despite her claim, she reached out and took my hand.
I was sweating. Yeah, 0 degrees outside and I was sweating. And no, I wasn’t wrapped up in blankets and Ray hadn’t converted the cabin into a furnace.
There’s no point in repeating word for word what’s already been put down on paper. Abridged version: I told Jenny about that singular day that has plagued my waking and sleeping hours since. I told her about Allister smiling at me, about the bad drugs given to my mother, about Chloe dying in my arms, about Ben getting blown away… I told her about Allister coming after me, and about Billy saving my life. I described how I killed Allister.
I did not tell her that Billy projected his thoughts to me and that I picked up on those thoughts.
I don’t know if our friendship will mature into a love relationship. Obviously, it’s my dream that it will. But there’s no doubt she will not look at me the same when she finds out about my gift.
I impressed myself in that I got through the whole story without crying. My voice cracked a couple of times, and my eyes may have watered, but that’s it.
“Oh, Ellie, I’m so, so sorry.” She stood and stepped over to hug me. Fiercely.
Okay, full disclosure: a stray tear slid down my face. I wiped it before Jenny could step back and notice, fearful I was breaking the man code. But then I glanced over at Ray. I could only see the back of his head, and with the music playing, I don’t know how he could have heard me telling the story, but I saw him first try to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, then changed strategy and grabbed a nearby napkin.
I wondered, because I’m weird like that, with Ray being twice my size, bigger eyeballs, bigger cheeks for tears to slide on, if his actual tears were bigger than mine.
I guess part of my wonder was a distraction my brain created because I didn’t really know how to react to Jenny hugging me so intently. Part amazement. Part euphoria. Part embarrassment.
Eventually, after what seemed like a long time, and yet strangely not long enough, Jenny released me. I felt awkward at that moment as well.
Uncle Joe hugged me. But I wasn’t really in the hug business, especially emotional, heart-felt embraces like the one Jenny just gave me. I guess some of the reluctance comes from the duality of my mother. She would hug me, then let Allister beat the crap out of me.
Jenny wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She said, “So what did you do next? After you picked up Billy’s racquetball, where did you go?”
I tried to think back to that time. Unlike the events beforehand, images that were seared into my brain, I don’t remember much about what happened after that. I was in a fugue.
“It’s hard to remember. I’m sure I was in shock. I knew it was cold outside, but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel a
nything. Just numb. I remember shaking, but I think that was from the adrenaline crash. I walked down our dirt driveway to the street and started walking toward town. Dazed.
“After some time—I don’t know how long—a car stopped and someone started calling my name. I hadn’t noticed the headlights but after hearing my name, I emerged somewhat from my daze and noticed then it was dark. I must have been walking for a few hours. I’m sure I looked like something straight out of a weird horror flick: my left arm shredded, blood all over my clothes and a blue racquetball in my hand.
“A lady got out of the car and stepped toward me, then stopped and backed up a little when she saw the blood. ‘Oh my God. Are you hurt? Elijah?’ I recognized her, Mrs. Carter. She was a neighbor a little farther down the street. She had three kids close to our ages. She wasn’t mean to us, but she wouldn’t let her kids play with us. She was a dedicated member in the Stay Away From Those Raven Kids Club. ‘Elijah?’ she repeated. I didn’t mean to ignore her. I didn’t try to be defiant or anything. I just couldn’t speak. My brain needed a reboot. She moved closer to me, but not close enough to touch me or vice versa. I don’t blame her, really.
“She took another tentative step toward me and said, ‘Elijah, what’s wrong? Is that blood? Are you hurt?’ She was dealing with her own shock. I still couldn’t speak, but I pointed back in the direction of my house, which was a few miles away. She said, ‘Something bad happened at your house?’ This time I managed a nod.
“Cellphones weren’t nearly as popular back then as they are now, especially in rural areas, so she couldn’t call 911. She opened the back door of her car and said, ‘Elijah, let’s get you some help. I’ll take you to the hospital.’ Minute-by-minute my brain emerged from its near catatonic state. I managed to say ‘Not hurt.’ Looking at my arm and the blood covering my clothes, I could tell she didn’t know what to think about my statement. Finally, she said, ‘Well, let’s go to a hospital anyway. They’ll fix whatever’s going on.’ Maybe she said that as much for her own benefit as for mine, but I knew they were never going to be able to fix what happened.
“Yet I saw no point in telling her otherwise. I noticed she didn’t offer to take me back to my house. Obviously, she knew at this point something terrible had happened. She probably didn’t think that four people were dead—and that I had killed one of them— which was good, or she may have just freaked out altogether and left me.
“Mrs. Carter took me to the hospital and explained she found me on the road. I was attacked, well-meaning, but attacked nonetheless with questions. Most of which I couldn’t think of words to use for answers. Someone said call the police. My mind retreated back down a long hallway to a room far, far away.”
I’d been talking for quite a while. Though I tried to be light-hearted at times and infuse humor, talking about this was emotionally exhausting. I’d hit a wall.
I said, “Many of my memories in the hospital are blurry. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I stood.
Jenny hugged me again. “You did really great, Ellie.”
I tried to smile. I brushed my teeth and got in bed. I wondered if I was going to have a hard time falling asleep. I don’t remember anything else after that.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I woke up when I felt the truck stop. We were at a rest stop. Evidently Ray needed a bathroom break.
I ran and did my thing, then went back to get Tyler so he could do his. Jenny slept through the stop.
It was still dark outside. And cold. A clock on the dash stated 3:22AM.
Ray said, “How you doing?”
“Tired. How are you?”
“Wonderful.” He gave me a huge smile. Even his eyes twinkled.
I don’t know how anyone could be cheery at three in the morning. Ridiculous.
I went back to bed.
I woke to the crinkling sound of a paper wrapper. Daylight accosted my eyes. I closed them. The crinkling stopped. I attempted to view the world again.
Jenny stood by my bed, smiling.
You know, I could wake up like this every day for the rest of my life and be the happiest man alive. There are, I concede, certain situations that would add to said happiness...
Jenny held up a Hostess apple pie.
Jenny got me a Hostess apple pie!
She said, “I cooked breakfast again!”
I started to think this whole human thing she put on was a façade. She’s actually one of the Heavenly Host.
She said, “Sleep well?”
I nodded, got up, brushed my teeth, and said, “Where are we?”
“Just outside Detroit.”
“You mean, we’re here?”
She gave me perceptive smile #6. “Well, here is relative. We’re always here because it’s impossible to be there.”
“That’s so weird it makes sense.”
“Of course it does.”
I commanded my eyeballs to not roll. “Where’s Tyler?”
“Ray took him outside to play, get some exercise.”
“Cool. So what’s the game plan?”
“That’s a Ray question.”
As if summoned, Ray opened the truck door. Frigid air rushed in, howling a war cry, invading the warm cab. Tyler jumped into the truck and Ray followed.
“Good morning, Elijah!” Ray’s hearty smile warmed the cab again.
Ray said, “I heard you two talking about me.”
I glanced at Jenny, then back to Ray. “No way, you couldn’t hear us out there.”
Ray continued beaming. “Did you mention my name?”
Jenny said, “Yes.”
“Then I heard you.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“It’s okay, Brother Elijah, there is a lot about me you don’t understand.”
He put an arm around me, said, “And some day you never will,” then laughed. He squeezed me hard around the shoulders and shook me side to side, jostling me as if I were a hollow mannequin. “I’m just messing with you.” He winked at Jenny.
Ray let go of me and stepped back. “I imagine you two want to know what’s next.”
I said, “Bingo.”
“We’ll be leaving Nebuchadnezzar with a friend who manages a distribution center here in town. We’ll change over to an SUV, something more acceptable to the clientele. We’ll also change into appropriate clothing.”
“I’d really prefer not to be dressed like an old woman again.”
Ray smiled. “Don’t worry, Brother Elijah, I’ve got you covered. When we get there, follow my lead. Do not answer any questions or respond unless specifically addressed by someone. The cover business is an advertising firm. I will present some mock business projects, one of which we’ve discovered is the key to admittance as clientele. The only way for us to be able to gain access to the inside is as clients.”
Ray’s smile faded. “This most likely won’t be pleasant. You two will have to steel yourselves for seeing and/or hearing crimes against the kids. Again, follow my lead. If we blow our own cover, I doubt we make it out alive, or worse, unchanged.”
I swallowed. “What do you mean, unchanged?”
“We’ve heard rumors that Lynch uses mind manipulation through neurochemistry drugs. Probably to enhance the client’s experience, as well as—and far darker—changing the emotions of the children, making them easier to control.”
“Oh my God,” said Jenny.
Ray said, “I’m not exaggerating, or trying to be overly protective, when I say this is not going to be easy. That’s why we do not engage. I don’t care what horrors you see or hear, do not get involved. We are here to gather evidence. Evidence only. Another team will neutralize Lynch if the authorities do not. We, as in you two and myself on this trip, are not equipped to deal directly with Lynch’s security team. Got it?”
Jenny and I both nodded. But I didn’t think if I could stay detached if I saw something. But I understood Ray’s point of view. Jenny and I were not prepared to combat t
hem, if it came to that. We wouldn’t survive. Sacrifice one to save many?
A horrible concept.
But true.
We went to designated rooms to change, where Ray’s friend already had our clothes set out. Whoever picked mine out was a genius. Waiting for me was a bright blue dress shirt and a shiny grey suit. It looked like something Mr. Broxton would have worn. I hoped I got to keep the suit.
After changing, we met in the lobby. Jenny wore a fitted green blouse and a black miniskirt with black high heels. Her long auburn hair was tied up in some sort of bun, a style I couldn’t name.
Regardless, she looked amazing.
Her name should be Venus.
I wondered if she’d mind if I called her Venny instead of Jenny.
She did a quick twirl around and said, “Do you like it?”
I opened my mouth to say something, closed it, tried again, then gave up and just nodded.
She smiled, Perceptive #9. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Raven.”
I still had nothing. So I just stared at her.
Ray wore a sharp beige suit and carried a burgundy leather portfolio.
We got into a silver Mercedes G-Class SUV, and Ray drove us into downtown Detroit. Tyler stayed with Ray’s friend at the distribution center. I never did meet or see this friend. I didn’t know if that was the idea or just coincidence.
Ray mentioned in the future we could have Tyler act as a service dog. But because of the location, atmosphere, and purpose of this visit, Ray did not want any of us to be under pressure to perform as if we required a service dog. There were people in the Network who were blind or paralyzed who would not have to act.
When we left, I had a sudden fear that I’d never see Tyler again.
We entered the underground parking of one humongous skyscraper, and rode the elevator up to ground level.
My heart beat as if I ran up the stairs instead. We hadn’t even entered the lobby of the skyscraper yet, let alone the advertising business. I tried to calm myself, but I was unbelievably scared. I’m sure some of the fear stemmed from worry about our safety. But I was more scared about what I was about to see. I didn’t know if we’d actually see any children, but my fear didn’t care about that.
