Half Blind (The Technicians #13)

Chapter 10- Captivation

“W hat in the hell?” Helen said, bending to help the child who hit the floor with a thud like a ten-pound sack of Russet potatoes. “I'm supposed to be learning chemistry and how to make potions like an out of work witch who lost her union card. Now look at me, babysitting for the coven. Come on, child, snap to, come on.”

Colette's eyelids fluttered as her eyes came open. Helen helped the young woman to her feet, sitting her at the kitchen table. In case she was hypoglycemic, Helen brought a glass of juice to the teen. There were questions in Helen's mind about the girl's reaction to Jared, which there was no mistaking. However, the girl was not her ward, and it was not her place to hear the story or the why. Lemon had specifically asked her to get the girl settled into the home, buy her some clothes, and let her make the bedroom her own. It would be up to Lemon to hear the connection between the girl and Jared, not her.

“I'm having oatmeal,” Helen said. “Let's get you fed, and we can go out shopping to and work on settling you in.”

Colette's blue eyes searched Helen's face. “You're not going to ask?”

“I'm not,” Helen said going to the kitchen and returning with two bowls of mush, sprinkled with brown sugar and a pat of butter sat on top. “When Doc Myrtle returns from work, she can hear your words, not me. My assignment is to get you settled. That is, if you plan on staying. Are you planning to stay?”

“I am,” Colette said, eyeballing the bowl of oatmeal. “This looks good. I'm hungry; I didn't always get to eat every day.”

“You will here,” Helen said, joining her at the table.

The meal was eaten in silence, and Colette volunteered to wash the dishes. Helen didn't talk very much to the girl, keeping the air between them neutral throughout the day. A few extra dollars were spent for an electric toothbrush, but a visit to the dentist would be required to remove the built-up plaque and tartar from the unmaintained teeth.

“This is nice,” Colette said, looking at a soft peachy colored dress.

“Would you like it?”

The blue eyes were wide, “I can have this?”

“Let's check the budget,” Helen said, thinking better of it. “No, let me get you a purse and a wallet and hand you this money. You can budget to purchase items you like after you collect the things that you need. On that list, you will need a pair of work boots for the farm, sneakers, and regular shoes. Also, socks, underwear, bras, and any shampoos, deodorants, and the like.”

“That is going to cost a lot of money,” Colette said.

“We will make it stretch, then you will need to save a couple of bucks for the weekend,” she told the girl. “The girls usually go to the movies or do an activity on Friday night or Saturday when they finish their chores. So, do you want to save at least twenty for that as well?”

Colette smiled, showing off the grubby teeth, “Going to the movies? Like real teenagers?”

“Yes, and hopefully, the three of you will become fast friends,” Helen said. “Oh, we need to visit a bookstore. I think it is the easiest way to determine where you are in your reading level and what we need to work towards. Fair enough?”

“Ms. Helen,” Colette said, blinking back tears, “is this real? I'm not getting all of this, and next week, a bunch of men come to the house wanting me to do stuff?”

“Oh, honey no. Doc Myrtle nor I will ever let such a thing happen to you. You're safe,” Helen added with a smile. “Now, let's get to shopping, and you can pick where we have lunch.”

The smile was uneven and riddled with the nastiness covering her teeth, but all of that could be cleared up. She prayed that when Lemon came home, the issue with Jared could be cleared up as well. In Helen's spirit, she couldn't imagine Jared doing a bad thing to or in front of the girl. Helen also didn't imagine the connection between the two, which would leave all of their jaws hanging.

****

H ELEN INFORMED LEMON via text about the issue with Colette and Jared. Laundry lessons progressed nicely as Helen taught Colette how to use the washer and dryer, and Helen learned that where Collette had lived with her uncle, they had a washboard and a metal tub to clean clothes. The girl was nervous throughout dinner. It was also the first night of dinner in nearly two weeks without Jared at the table.

The round robin at dinner was still in effect, as each person was given an opportunity to share their day. At the table, Lemon didn't approach the subject of Jared. The night would be cold again, and she started a fire in the fireplace.

Lemon passed out cups of hot chocolate as she called a family meeting. She began by explaining that each person in the circle had issues, and no one was running from the past but trotting towards a new and better future. Lemon also explained that in order to have a better future, the past needed to be understood, to process, cleanse and move in the right direction.

“Colette, I understand you have a past with Mr. Bane,” she said to the shocked faces of Bria and Ayanna.

The girl nodded her head.

“A head nod is not enough. I need a clear understanding of your prior interactions with him,” Lemon said. “We will not judge you for doing what was needed to survive. However, we do need honesty if we are to share a life together.”

Colette didn't want to share this part. However, she knew she needed to make all the information available to process the actions of a child in a dark moment. Her heart thudded against her breastplate in fear, but she spoke.

“My Uncle hated Black people,” she said. “He taught me to distrust anyone of color, including the Chinks and Bean Eaters.”

“We don't use those terms in this house,” Lemon corrected. “If you dislike a person, dislike them because they are an asshole, not because of race, creed, or color.”

“Sorry,” Colette said. She took a moment and for the first time, to Helen's surprise, Ayanna and Bria weren't interrupting. “I was 11 when my uncle rented me out to man for $500. We went to this old building that had a playground inside. There were chairs next to, like, this wooden stage. Men sat in the chairs watching us play.”

Helen tightly gripped the handle of her mug. The girl was describing the pedophilia warehouses they called A Field of Flowers. Colette was one of the flowers for the perverts to pluck and sniff.

“After a while, I was sent into this room to wait for the man who paid my uncle,” she said. “But there was a loud noise, a lot of smoke, shouting, running, and I hid in the corner behind a piece of furniture. I heard footsteps coming into the room. I was scared. So scared. Then I saw a man. A Black man, or I thought he was Black or a mixed Mexican.”

Colette lowered her head. “He told me he was there to help me. He held out his hand and asked me to come out. I didn't. He came closer, then bent down in front of me, telling me I was safe.”

Tears began to run down her cheeks, and she swatted away the droplets. “I spit in his face and yelled that I wasn't going anywhere with an N word like him. He was shocked. I swung at him, trying to fight him. He backed off, holding up his hands. He also had a gun, which made me even more terrified. He told me to stay hidden. Then he said to me, ‘I’m going to get someone who looks like you to help, okay?”

She wiped her nose with the arm of the new long-sleeved tee she'd gotten today. “When he came back, I wasn't there. I ran. I ran out back through a hole in the building and hid in the woods. The man came to the woods calling for me, saying Little Girl, I brought someone to help that looks like you. I knew another person was with him, but I didn't come out. I didn't come out. I was so scared. The person with him said they needed to leave, and his voice, I will never forget, said,‘Roger That,’ and then he walked away.”

Lemon said nothing. She continued to listen as the tears took over from Colette. “Had I gone with him, my life would have been so different. I never expected to see that man again, but today, when he said,‘Roger That,’ I knew it was him. I knew that voice. I remembered that voice. The man attached to that voice tried to save me, but my racist Uncle taught me hate. I hid from a better life only to be found by my uncle, who got extra to let the man keep me overnight. The things that sick man did to me. I was in the hospital for a long time. I can't have children. But...”

She began to whimper softly. “My Uncle still hired me out even when I came from the hospital. Especially when he learned, I couldn’t make babies. For four years, he hired me out, then last week he tried to sell me to one of those warehouse places to recruit more kids. The person he sold me to wanted to try out the product.”

Bria had begun to cry. Ayanna wrapped her arms around the foster sister's shoulders. The two of them had been through a great deal living on the streets, fending off the worst, hoping for the best. They had started high school living with Doc Myrtle. Today, they were in the eleventh grade and thinking about college. If anyone understood what Colette was saying, they did.

“For so long, I remember feeling stupid,” Colette said. “My Grammy, who my uncle and I lived with until she died, taught me how to pray. I prayed that day, and help came. I sent it away. I felt stupid because I knew God was punishing me for not listening. This morning when I saw the man and heard his voice, I thought...maybe, God hadn't given up on me. This was my chance to be better.”

Ayanna asked, “Girl, God don't work like that. Anyhoo, when you arrived on the porch, your nose was turned up at us. Why the change suddenly because you got some new clothes and two hot meals?”

“You all were so clean. I am not,” she said. “I didn't think people wanted to be bothered with a used-up piece of trash like me. I have lived through so much hurt and rejection, being used and tossed aside as if I were simply a toy for filthy men to piss in. I just wanted to protect myself from more hurt.”

Lemon stood. She looked at her rag tag family, then opened her arms. “Colette, the love is here and available. All you have to do is step into it.”

Colette, hesitant at first, didn't know what to make of the women. No one had openly offered her affection, not even her Grammy, who often called her dumb. Adding hurt to long-term injuries, the weird men her uncle said were her customers, seldom kissed her on the mouth, let alone offered a comforting hug. She stepped in to the hug, sighing at the comfort of the touch. No request was made of her to receive this small token of affection, which was backed up by the others in the room, who joined the circle, welcoming Colette to the group.

The joyous moment became interrupted by a beeping. Helen broke from the group first. She knew the sound. Cherry had an alarm like it at their former home in Indiana. The sound meant someone was trying to sneak up on the house.

“Bria, Ayanna, take Colette upstairs. You know the drill; teach it to her,” Lemon said, looking back for Helen.

Helen was ready. From the bag which always sat near the door, she pulled out a 9mm, seated a round in the chamber, and grabbed two knives from the bag. The 9 mm went into the rear waistband of her skirt, and the knives dropped into the side pockets of her cardigan.

“Ready!” Helen called out.

“Honestly, you look like a suburban housewife, but you're not. You're fucking scary,” Lemon said.

“So says the woman who kept and milked a pet cobra. Anything that comes through the door or window is getting dropped like a sack of shit. Who are these people?” Helen wanted to know.

“I think they might be what Jared is running from,” Lemon said. “More than likely, the Sheriff running Mr. Bane's info is what has brought them to Nowhere, Ohio and my door. Be cool.”

Through the camera system on the door, Lemon answered, “Can I help you?”

“We're looking for a friend of ours who said he was coming to Ohio,” the large lady said. “His truck was in an accident near here. We think he might have stopped in for some help?”

“How do you know the truck was in an accident?” Lemon asked.

The brutish woman at the door looked over her shoulder at another woman who had walked up. The third woman had reached the back door.

Lemon said with confidence, “Whomever you're looking for is not here. If your friend at the backdoor tries to come through, she is going to get lit the fuck up, that is, while she's coming through the back, I shall come through the front and light you up. Whomever you're looking for is not here.”

“Ma'am,” the woman said.

“Correction, Dr.,” Lemon said. “And to be more specific, my handle is the Sour Lemon. Standing next to me is the Cranberry. You are on the porch of a Forbidden Fruit. Whatever you're looking for, it's not here. The only thing you will find here is your death. Be off with you and in a hurry.”

The woman appeared shocked at Lemon's revelation. She held up her massive paws and said, “No disrespect intended. We are just trying to locate our friend.”

“Disrespect was taken,” Lemon said, pressing a button. Beside the ceiling fan on the front porch, a mini machine gun downloaded and one on the back porch as well. “Again, not here. Check with the Sheriff since he's the reason you've tracked your friend this far. However, here is a word to the wise. Adults who are the happiest learn to let shit go. Might be time for you to do the same.”

“Have a good night,” the large woman said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lemon replied.

She used the homing light tracker on the mini machine gun to point the red dot at the woman's back. The red dot stayed with her until the three women reached the pickup, loaded in, and drove away. “They will be back,” Lemon said.

“Don't they always come back? Dumb fuckers never know when well enough is sufficient,” Helen said. “Where is the weapons cache? Are the interlocking fields of fire set up at the windows? Do the girls know how to fire weapons? How long can we hold up in here?”

“Dear God, you bitter little berry, chill out,” Lemon said. “I'll walk you through all of that, but first, I need to make a call.”

“In the meantime, I need to check your ammo stores,” Helen said, watching the cameras outside of the home on screen.

“Yeah, do that,” Lemon said, reaching for her Technician phone and pressing 2.

The voice came on the line after three rings. “State your need.”

“Not sure. Three big ass women just showed up here looking for your new friend who left this morning,” Lemon said.

“Okay.”

“I threatened to drop them on my front porch when they used the sneak attack coming around the back in case, he tried to run out the back door,” Lemon stated. “What is he running from?”

“I assume them,” the voice said.

“You're being vaguer than usual.”

“No, I know nothing.”

“Well, someone better have some answers real damned soon. This Cranberry chick is locked and loaded and monitoring the cameras like we have a Waco about to go down,” Lemon said. “You sent the girl who has a history with him, so now I have three kids in my house. I don't need his problems on my doorstep. If the issue shows up again, I'm inviting that big heffah in for a cup of tea.”

“I'll be in touch,” the voice said, ending the call.

“I really can't stand that man,” Lemon said. “I fancied myself in love with him at one point, thinking we were going to run off together and have pretty bi-racial babies.”

Helen looked at her. “Can a bi-racial man and a Black woman have bi-racial children, or are they simply Black kids?”

Lemon squinted at her. “I don't think I like you much either. Stand down.”

“Can't,” Helen said. “They will be back, if nothing more than to sit on the property and look for Mr. Bane's comings or goings. Maybe you should tell the Sheriff that he's gone and you and your cousin, along with the girls, don't feel safe. That tight-lipped, no-neck cretin will come sit on the property personally.”

“I take it back. I think I love you,” Lemon said, picking up her land line to call the Sheriff.

Wherever Jared Bane was headed, she prayed he arrived safely.