Chapter 6 Shambles
1395 Words
Chapter 6
Shambles
James and Maria approach his apartment. Vertical blinds conceal the contents of the home. James opens the mailbox outside his apartment, while Maria waits silently.
He ruffles through his mail until he sees a California EDD logo. “I didn’t expect my unemployment check yet. Finally, some good news.”
James opens the letter and reads. “My unemployment claims are contested for work-related misconduct. That’s so petty.”
Maria notices the front door is slightly ajar. She steps past James to investigate.
“I’m rich on paper, but two steps from the curb. I’m going to be homeless, and now I can’t even live out of my car.” James realizes her attention is elsewhere. “Maria?”
She pushes the door. It creaks as it swings open to an apartment in shambles. Maria barges in. She checks each room, but the vandals are long gone.
James treads lightly, his steps shaky. He surveys the devastation with lost eyes. Nothing inside the apartment is undisturbed. Holes in the walls. Ripped up floorboards. Upended cabinet drawers, with contents sprawled across the floor. Slashed couch cushions. Even the refrigerator door is left wide open.
“Why is my apartment ransacked? What did you do?” James asks.
Maria eyes the ground and mutters inaudibly.
James takes on a mocking tone under his breath. “Don’t take down Maria. Pfft. I’m the collateral damage.” He raises his voice. “What’s going on, Maria?”
She speaks much louder. “I might have put Renquist under surveillance and maybe…threatened him.”
“Maria, where did you put the camera?” James cringes, afraid to hear the answer.
“Your office. It’s the only place big enough for his ego.”
His gaze sears into her.
She wears her guilt like a scolded child. “I recorded every office visit for the last two months. I knew Renquist was up to something. Today proved it.”
James blushes. “Months? Sometimes I do private stuff in my office.”
Maria rolls her eyes. “I know. I fast forward through those parts.”
“Please tell me you didn’t make recordings.” James looks at the ground.
She says, “I never trusted Renquist. I had to know what he was up to. Someone has to protect you, while your avatar floats off in imagination land. That someone is me.”
James rushes to the refrigerator and slams the door. “I don’t feel protected.” He twists a kitchen cabinet drawer right side up and places kitchen utensils inside. His eyes tear up.
Maria watches quietly from a safe distance.
James jolts up. “What does it matter? As a last resort, I was going to sell my furniture to make rent. Who’s going to buy a slashed-up couch?” He flings the drawer across the room. The kitchen utensils scatter from the point of impact.
“The hard part is those moments when I don’t feel you believe in me. They aren’t just taking my company. They’re taking my life.” Tears stain his cheek.
“I believe in you,” she says.
“You say the words, but your actions don’t always agree. You even fought me for who leads a dance. A dance.”
“I challenge you to bring out the best,” Maria says.
“I get that enough from my mother. Can’t you just support me?”
Maria gives James a remorseful look. “What would make you feel supported?”
His tears stop. James considers the price to quell Maria’s guilty conscience. What would prove her support? “I need a hug.”
They both remain silent for a few moments. Did James ask too much? It’s emotional, but also awkward.
Maria opens her arms. “I know it’s been rough, but I didn’t realize…”
James embraces her in a bear hug.
She winces. Maria looks like she’s enduring a root canal, but she softens. It’s not that bad.
He rests his head on her shoulder.
She’s somewhat puzzled by it. The expressions on her face reflect her rating the experience in real time.
James takes relaxing deep breaths.
Maria’s breaths follow his.
He rocks back and forth.
She syncs with the rhythm. Comfort. It’s a safe place, a meditation. Maria nods in approval. She nestles her neck on his shoulder like a cat getting comfortable. They smile in deep contentment.
Evidence of intrusion at their feet can’t penetrate the happy bubble. Everything is OK. Calm. Sleepy. Safe. Spiritual. Safe. Comforting, like a mother’s womb. Safe.
Or is it safe? James jerks back, awoken by an unwelcome realization. “They repossessed the car but didn’t bother closing the credit card. This isn’t about money. What if they’re after your surveillance recordings? They wanted to search my car. They’re probably searching your apartment right now. Let’s go.” James grabs his backpack.
They sprint to the car and speed off to Maria’s house.
Maria runs to her front door, leaving her keys in the ignition.
James grabs the keys and follows.
Her door is ajar. She shoves it open, mid-run.
A man and a woman wearing dark clothes, ski masks, and gloves take DVDs and Blu-rays from her wall. They toss the disks in a box and throw the containers on the floor.
James peers inside and ducks back out. He calls 911.
Maria rushes into her bedroom.
Caught. The intruders scramble towards the bathroom.
She yanks her water serpent katana from the wall display and charges after them.
The female intruder pulls a g*n. Her accomplice deflects the weapon down, as it fires. The bullet blows through the floor. “He said alive,” the man says. The intruders enter the bathroom and lock the door after themselves.
Maria thrusts the sword through the door and quickly retracts. Blood. A second stab encounters only air. Maria kicks a gaping hole near the lock but gets stuck. She drops the sword, frees her leg from the door, and reaches into the hole she made, to unlock the door. Maria flings the door open.
A red trail leads to the man near the bathroom window, as he wraps his left arm with a b****y towel.
She picks up her katana and charges again.
The wounded intruder steps on the toilet and launches himself through the open window, letting himself fall. He lands on the grass with a thump and a scream of pain.
His accomplice, already outside, helps him to his feet.
He stumbles away, favoring his wounded arm.
The intruders can get to the alley from Maria’s backyard. She can take a short-cut through her neighbor’s yard to catch them. She darts out the front door, b****y katana in hand.
James stands behind two empty police cars parked on the street. He gives a worried look and sprints towards her.
Maria veers right across her porch. Her boots stomp with loud thuds.
The bushes next to the porch rustle, both behind and to the left. Footsteps and creaking wood follow her on the porch.
Maria doesn’t look back. She hops over the porch railing and runs across the neighbor’s lawn.
When she crosses the property boundary, two police bark orders. “Police! Don’t move! Drop the weapon!”
Maria sputters to a halt. She peers over her shoulder.
Both police officers point guns at her. Officer Samuels aims from behind the porch railing. He seems reluctant to leave the cover and height advantage of his position.
Officer Monroe approaches Maria across the grass with his g*n drawn. James races after him.
Maria remains stationary in an awkward position, with only her neck and head facing the police. “My katana has DNA from my assailant,” she says.
At fifteen feet, Officer Monroe creeps closer. “Drop the weapon.”
“That might contaminate the evidence. Take it from me,” Maria says.
Officer Monroe c***s his g*n to intimidate Maria.
“Don’t hurt her!” James screams, a few feet from Officer Monroe.
Officer Monroe holds his hand out at James. “Stand back. Remain calm.” Officer Monroe is anything but calm. He motions for James to stop and shifts between pointing his g*n at James and Maria.
“OK. OK.” Maria drops the weapon onto the neighbor’s sidewalk with a clank. “You’re letting them escape.”
“Hands behind your back. On the ground now.”
Maria complies.
Officer Monroe jerks her arm back and places handcuffs on her.
James says, “What are you doing? I asked for your help.”
“As per California Penal Code Section 417, I am placing you under arrest for brandishing a weapon.”
“It was self-defense, they shot at me,” Maria says.
Officer Monroe scoffs. “If it was self-defense, you’re lucky. Bringing an oversized knife to a gunfight usually doesn’t end well.”
The policeman pats down Maria, walks her to the car, and shoves her in the back seat. Officer Monroe places the b****y katana in plastic inside the trunk and drives off.
Maria yells at Officer Monroe. “My front door was open. You didn’t cordon off the area. What kind of cops are you?”
“I’m so glad you watched enough TV that you know how we should do our jobs,” Officer Monroe says.
- Writer
