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Part 3-14: Roman
Dack more delicately filled the girls in while I curbed my hanger with a double-cheese quinoa burger and sweet potato fries (extra spicy mayo). We sat in a corner booth, as far away from the dinnertime patrons as we could. On the other side of the place, Jimena spoke with a man who I assumed was also a cop—though he was not uniformed.
“How are you acquainted with Constable Barranco, again?” asked Deluxe.
“Met in cop school, I originally wanted to be on the force, you remember?” he said.
“You did mention that before, yes…” she said.
“My question now, before Jimena gets back, is what do we tell or do with Ferg?” said Dack.
“Law enforcement personnel are not fond of surprises,” said Persi. “We should tell her about him if he’s to join the strike against Eden tonight.”
“If there’s a strike at all,” I grumbled, between fries.
“How’s your energy?” asked Persi.
I seesawed my hand. Maybe if I could sneak in a nap between now and whenever, I’d feel better.
“Could just ask him to hang back, I’d feel bad dragging him into this if it gets hairy with the law,” said Dack.
“Alena,” said Deluxe, “when you described the events to Constable Barranco, how detailed were you in regards to how we all met, who witnessed what, and so forth?”
“I uh, hum. I was generic, I think. Just said, ‘some friends,’ and she cut us off before getting into specifics, before I spoke about what happened at the park. So she wouldn’t necessarily know Fergus by name.”
Deluxe was about to say more when a muffed tone emitted from somewhere on her person. The monitor bleeped. She pulled it out of her pocket.
“The policewoman appears to be concluding her conversation,” said Persi, peering down the length of the diner.
“Crap, no time to explain it all, I’ll just ask him to stay put and stay tuned,” said Dack, texting rapid fire. “Tell me when she’s coming.”
“Two approach now,” said Persi.
Dack finished his text and put away his phone. Deluxe pressed something on the monitor and stashed it too. Jimena strolled over, followed by a middle aged, bald dude in a bomber jacket and faded blue jeans. She kicked lightly at Dack, who scooched over. She sat beside him, and the man sat beside Persi, leaving me and Deluxe facing each other, closest to the wall.
Jimena opened her mouth, then the waiter appeared to ask after my meal and offer the cops drinks. The others all took the opportunity to order something, a process that felt like it took an hour thanks to the awkward stranger at the table.
After restaurant procedure concluded, Jimena said, “Everyone, please meet Constable Theodore Roman. This is Dack Vines, Alena Bisk, and…”
“Deluxe Prime,” said my roommate.
“Persimmon Tulun,” said Persi. I mentally stopped my eyebrows from arching over at Deluxe; I’d classically never asked after Persi’s last name—or Willy’s.
“William Tulun’s sister?” said Roman.
She nodded without looking at him.
“I have filled Theo in on the broad strokes of this… case,” said Jimena. “He agrees that our next step is to capture some evidence of the strange and potentially dangerous plant life that you have allegedly observed.”
“I’ve seen my fair share of odd shit on duty,” said Roman. “Usually, there’s a reasonable explanation. Sometimes not though. Ever hear of cattle mutilations?”
My friends and I exchanged puzzling glances, save Deluxe, who nodded absently.
“Anyway,” continued Roman, “I get that it can be hard to report these things, or find support for what you may or may not have seen. ‘Specially in a place this size. People talk, people are bored, people have long memories of who said what. Doesn’t do one well to be labeled crazy.”
Jimena closed her eyes and added her own absent nod to the mix.
“You need to send someone to the Walkerby’s,” I said. “They are in trouble.”
“Not so hasty, Miss Bisk,” said Roman. “Until we can establish some evidence, spooking the family like that would only raise questions.”
“We are keeping this hushed until… we know more,” said Jimena.
“There’s no time,” I said. Outside, the skies darkened. In one of Deluxe’s pockets, the monitor lay silenced. I knew it was trying to bleep.
“What exactly do you think is going to happen?” asked Roman.
On this front, I was stumped. I pictured a lovely family farmhouse, surrounded and wrapped in crushing vines, splintered porch beams and fractured shingles poking out of the green yarn ball like the dying limbs of deer caught in a constrictor’s squeeze.
Or maybe the vines would ooze in in small numbers, tracing the edges of rooms and corners until they found a bed’s leg. They’d twine up, probing, pass by a sleeping girl’s exposed ankle (tempting a target as it was), slither towards her face. Her mouth is open, lips dusted with a thin coat of sleeping fuzz, the vine’s tip edges between them. It tickles, she twitches, and then it plunges straight down her throat.
I shuddered, and thought I could hear the Minder’s tittering laugh.
Everyone was looking at me, the question still unanswered.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“That’s fine,” said Roman. “But understand that it is our job to find out. Jimena?”
“Correct. To your point, we will not waste any further time. We’ll go now, to this place where you say there are troublesome plants, before the light’s all gone. You,” she gestured around the table at all of us, “will wait here until we return.”
Persi sat straight and glared at Jimena, and she might’ve said something had I not gripped her thigh.
“It won’t be more than an hour,” assured Roman. “And afterward we can perhaps go take a look at this office building on Bannerman.” The cops stood to leave.
“Keys,” said Jimena, palm out.
“Keys?” said Dack.
“Car keys. Yours and missy’s.” She waggled her outstretched hand at Deluxe.
“Oh, come on Jimena.”
“You asked for my help. It’s this or we go down to the station to have a little conversation about break and entering, hm? You and Miss Bisk both.”
“No sense in attempting negotiations,” said Deluxe, while retrieving her keys. They were on the end of a long, glittery rope. “We’ve scarcely the reason to.”
Dack made a scoffing, disbelieving noise and relinquished his keys as well. The cop snatched them up and barreled away without another word. Roman lingered behind for a quick moment to mouth ‘one hour,’ at us, then followed.
“Well this is all just gravy now, ain’t it?” I said, after the diner’s door swung shut.
“We cannot sit and wait here while Eden’s forces assemble,” said Persi.
“They’re going to walk right into a shit show, if Alena’s right about its intentions,” said Dack.
“Well, they’ll have their damn evidence then, won’t they?” I said.
“And Eden may have two more souls for its collection…” said Deluxe.
The server came by and we waved them off.
“So, we must leave. And now,” said Persi.
“It’s about a 20 minute walk to the dirt road then another ten or so to the trail, then how much deeper in to the spot with the big tree?” said Dack. “I don’t like that timing.”
“So, let’s drive,” said Deluxe, standing up and dropping a pile of bills on the table. She wiggled over Dack and Persi popped up to join her.
I got up as they walked away, as Dack sat there looking bewildered.
“You think ‘Luxe only has one way to turn on her driving machine?” I said. “Silly boy.”
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