Chapter 32: The Shelton Residence
I called Bobby and left another message, which turned out to be a mumbling of contrived words that probably made no sense. Six words turned into two dozen, none of which were decipherable. The message became a haste of juxtaposed sounds and nothing more. I hung up and immediately called Gloria’s cellphone. To my surprise, she picked up, but I couldn’t hear anything she said. The vibrato of rushing waves mixed with her verbiage and sounds of a fiesta: drums, a parade, and cheering partiers somewhere in the deep midst of Mexican culture.
I kept saying over and over, “Gloria…Gloria…Are you there? I can’t hear you.”
My heart pounded, and my head stung with fresh pain as I ended the call. Within seconds, my throat dried, and my hands continued to shake. I ne
