Freya's Inferno (Winging It Book 1) Page 9

  Chapter 11

  The day before school started, I was sitting in my classroom, working on my lesson plan for the first day of school, when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said Elin and I definitely needed a break from the monotony of setting up my introductory material. Perfect timing.

  A torrent of words burst out through the speaker before I even had a chance to say hello. Officer McCleary called her a few minutes ago. She and Elin had spoken once since the meeting at the ranch, but it was only to confirm that there was no change in the situation. Today, however, the police officer had new information and was calling to see if Elin could provide any insight.

  According to Officer McCleary, yesterday someone had called up the police station to complain that he had been robbed by a customer. The police showed up at this particular citizen’s residence to find him either stoned out of his mind or a little brain-damaged. Turns out it was probably a little of both since his business was operating a meth factory. From the outside, there was little suggestion that it was a drug den besides the tightly closed windows and drawn blinds, but inside, the house was a disaster. Gas cans, paint stripper, bottles of pure ammonia, propane tanks were strewn around, connected by duct tape and plastic tubing

  I couldn’t believe that the respectable, intelligent Jia I had briefly met would be part of something so horrible. Yet, according to Officer McCleary, this dimwitted drug dealer had described Jia as his thief. The bigger tragedy, in my opinion, was that Jia had also been a recent new customer. A few days ago she had arrived with one of the meth dealer’s regulars. It appeared that Jia and the other customer, a Caucasian middle-aged man, were a hot and heavy couple. This regular customer had gotten Jia started on the drug. From there, it was drug-fueled bacchanalia with both Jia’s new acquaintance and the dealer, binging on sex and reckless behavior. This high had lasted a couple of days, but when the dealer came off the meth, he discovered that all of his money had been taken from his secret stash in a closet. Oddly enough, in place of money, Jia had placed a large rock. The rock was big and heavy enough to have damaged the floor as she rolled it from outside into the closet. She also had stolen the car from the man she arrived with.

  Officer McCleary reported that the meth dealer was arrested and although they wouldn’t be pursuing the theft of the drug money, they were filing a stolen car report against Jia.

  “Wow.” My first response was neither articulate nor informative, but my brain was still reeling. I thought back to the Jia I had met at the airport. She held hands with Qiang while enthusing the whole time about lentils. We had made a great connection and she even called me a kindred spirit. How did this woman change so completely from a well-balanced individual to a lunatic? While I knew that grief over a spouse could be one of the most traumatic events anyone could ever experience, the change in personality was so massive that I wondered if she had literally become a different person.

  Had the separation from her Yang, and the flow of good energy during the mine cave-in, caused her to become so crazy? This situation reeked of the supernatural. Not that Elin or I could ever share that information with Officer McCleary.

  Elin continued, “The media have picked up the information on the case, so I guess we’ll be seeing this in the news.”

  After hanging up with Elin, I sat back in my chair and started to swivel back and forth. The chair creaked with each movement; I would have to oil it before school started tomorrow. The creak was distracting, but I was able to tune it out after awhile. The more I thought about the new Jia revelations, the more I began to expect that there was a supernatural bend to this bizarre situation. The police could deal with any normal human activity, but they were not well equipped to handle the consequences of species they had never dreamt of before. I felt like, being one of the two supernaturals in town, I had a responsibility to start my own investigation.

  I realized that I was chewing my cuticles again. Disgusting habit. I pulled my hand away from my mouth and reached for my phone again. I called up Elin again and told her that I was headed out to the ranch to poke around the stuff Jia had left in the guest house—maybe there would be a clue. Elin wasn’t pleased with my decision to start probing into the mystery, but I tried to convince her it felt like this was only the beginning of the problems. She, on the other hand, although concerned about Jia, didn’t think it was my place to try to find her or solve any potential mysteries. In the end, we agreed to disagree. She also made me promise, again, that I wouldn’t do anything rash. Luckily, she overlooked the detail of making me define what rash was. Life is all about details.

  After we hung up, I spent more time swiveling in my chair. The squeak almost become a song in my mind, and the quasi-song made me think of my cello. I had brought it to school again to practice some new songs. My classroom turned out to be fairly soundproof, so I was using it as my studio. I retrieved the case, set myself up, and then paused. I wasn’t feeling classical; I needed something with a strong and steady beat. Tom Petty, then. I started with a cello version of “I Won’t Back Down.” Playing the song straightened my spine, and singing the lyrics in my head made me feel like I could (and had) defeat any monster who dared stand in my path. After finishing the song, I flowed right into “Running Down a Dream.” The notes flowed over me; I could see myself in the convertible Tom Petty describes, the wind blowing back my hair, sunglasses reflecting the blue sky, one hand on the wheel, one hand out the side of the car, feeling the air stream through my fingers. Life was good.

  I hadn’t even realized that my eyes were closed, but when I opened them, I saw I wasn’t alone. Amy and Seth, the math teacher, were standing in my now-open doorway. I finished the last notes and let them linger in the air. Amy and Seth broke into applause and threw a few cheers in.

  “Thank you, thank you. You may throw money in the case. Twenties are acceptable. Fifties are preferred.”

  “I didn’t know you played!” Amy said with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “Play is a good word to describe what I do. I’ve been in a few bands, but it’s a hobby more than anything. I just love to have fun with cello.” To prove the point, I played the Jaws theme, which I think was the reason the cello was invented. Both Seth and Amy laughed.

  “The students here love anything creative. If you include music in some lessons, I bet you would get a huge response,” Seth said.

  “Good idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Amy and I were about to get lunch. You want to join?”

  “Almost any other time, I would jump on that suggestion, but something came up that I need to take care of. Could you make sure to invite me next time?” I replied as I put away my cello. I felt better from the time spent lost in music, and now I was ready to tackle the Jia problem. Luckily, I was done enough with my lesson plan for tomorrow. One is never done with planning for teaching, merely done enough. Amy assured me that she would invite me to lunch again and wished me luck with school tomorrow. And once again, they assured me that we had great students, but even great teenagers are still teenagers.

  Thankfully, I like the quirks that come with teenagers. Maybe because they are straddling the confusing gap between childhood and adulthood, much like I always seem to be between natural and Alva.

  As they left, I felt the need to get outside. It was a beautiful day, as Tom Petty had said, and there was work to be done. First step, call David. I had learned through some hard lessons that having a partner watch your back was necessary when facing the unknown. Since Alrik was back working in LA working with his new client, I could call him in if necessary.

  David wasn’t answering his cell phone, so I left a message and went to step two of the plan. I would try to hunt down the name of the man Jia was hanging out with before she went to the meth dealer. Perhaps he would have more information. Officer McCleary had said that the press was going to report the meth house bust, so I checked out the website of the local newspaper. There wasn’t anything posted yet. What other information did I know about
Jia? She went to a conference in Oregon about something to do with her area of research. What was it? I tapped my fingers on my desk. Something about classical literature. Google detective work revealed that it was probably a conference about Medieval European Literature at one of the state universities. Hmm, I didn’t think that helped much. My mother had talked with her family some; I definitely needed to contact them as well. I called up my mom but went straight to her voicemail, as well. What was everyone up to today?

  I pushed away from my computer. I would search the guest house at Elin’s ranch. Maybe Jia had left some clues about how she would act if everything she knew was ripped away from her in one horrible accident.

  I had Tom Petty stuck in my head, so I put my favorite of his albums in the Eagle’s updated stereo system on the way to the ranch. Everything seems better when accompanied with a good soundtrack. The guest house is over one hill from the main house and not in visible contact. Elin had said she had some work to do in a ranch workshop, so I didn’t bother to check in at the main residence. Much to my surprise, however, I was not the only one at the guest cottage. There was a beat-up, dusty old green Lincoln sitting right in front of it. I didn’t recognize it, but perhaps it was one of the ranch workers or the maids who clean the house. I got out of the car and shut the door noisily, hoping to let whoever was inside know that they were about to have company.

  I opened the screen door and poked my head inside. “Hello? Anyone here? It’s Elin’s sister, Freya.” A shuffling noise coming from the bedroom stopped. I stepped inside the house. “I’m here to look for something.”

  I jumped about a foot in the air when Jia stepped around the corner.

  “Holy heart failure, Batman! Do you know that everyone is looking for you?”

  “But who are they looking for?” Jia seemed not at all shocked to see me. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. Her hair was done up in a simple ponytail and she wasn’t wearing any makeup or jewelry. She looked surprisingly normal. Her eyes, however, had a distant, unfocused look in them, like she didn’t really see me. I didn’t know if she was on drugs or just naturally very messed up. Her question was baffling as well and reminded me that the last time we talked, she had asked an odd question, as well.

  I approached her carefully, like I was trying not to scare off a spooked cat. “What do you mean, Jia, ‘who are they looking for?’”

  “Perhaps I still am Jia, but I don’t think so. I have abandoned all hope; therefore, what remains is hell.”

  “Talk to me, Jia. What has happened? Let us help you.”

  “There is no help. You could never understand. Qiang and I were together as partners since our pairing ceremony when we were twelve years old. And we weren’t only together; we were one person, sharing everything. We were never supposed to exist without the other one.”

  “I am truly sorry for your grief, Jia. Help me to understand.”

  “Perhaps you are my guide, Freya. I have been looking for my guide. Are you my guide?”

  “I certainly am here for you. Why don’t we sit outside on the swing and you can tell me what has happened since Qiang died.”

  Jia stared at me with a cocked head. I pushed the screen open and made a motion asking her to step outside. She passed by me and sat on the front porch swing. We sat next to each and rocked gently for a few minutes. The day was hot, but we were under the shadow of the porch, so it was bearable. There was a mourning dove cooing in the distance, but that was all the noise I heard.

  Eventually, Jia spoke. “We shared one soul. We didn’t in the beginning, but after the ceremony, we became one. Not like in your Western tradition, but actually became one soul. We had separate thoughts and actions, but whatever affected his spirit would affect mine. He was more outgoing than I was, but with him, I became more social. He became more introspective. He loved to be in motion, but with me, he could rest. I went into Western literature because it provided some external perspective on life, not just Eastern philosophy. Qiang studied what you would consider Eastern Medicine. One extreme could not exist without the opposite. Together, we had a perfect balance. We were steps beyond the enlightenment we could have expected without each other. But we lost ourselves as well. We could never be only Jia or Qiang again.” She broke off in a laugh. “Or so we thought.”

  She stopped talking, and I let the mourning dove fill the silence. I had a feeling I was much more useful as a sounding board than an advice giver. I tucked my legs under me tailor-style and allowed Jia to rock the swing at her own pace.

  “Of course we had to save Miguel!” Her voice grew louder and strangely accusatory. “I never had a moment of hesitation giving Qiang my power. But he still was going to let the roof collapse on Miguel! How dare he! And how dare Miguel put us in that position!” Jia was yelling at this point. “I had to push the desire to save Miguel onto Qiang.”

  Jia stopped abruptly and looked expectantly at me. It was obvious that she expected me to respond, but the problem was that I had no idea what the question was. In an attempt to say something without saying anything, I gave a sorry excuse for an answer.

  “It was very honorable and noble to make a sacrifice for another person.”

  Jia stood up with a jerk. The porch swing swung back and hit the wall of the house. The jarring shock and the sudden movement threw my head back and cracked it painfully on the wooden swing back.

  Jia was so angry, her voice broke. “You know nothing of sacrifice! And you know nothing of good and evil! Do you really want to go there?” The movement of the swing had tipped me off my balance, and in an effort to stop the rocking and get my bearings, I had taken my eyes off Jia. Therefore, I only caught sight of the tail end of Jia’s downward swing. I think she might have grabbed a stick of firewood which was sitting in a basket next to the door, but whatever it was hurt like a sonofabitch.

  ***

  Smell was the first thing that returned. The scent wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t what I normally woke up to. The air smelled like my compost bin after a warm day—not particularly disgusting, but a deep, slightly sweet scent of vegetation turning back to soil. Next came a wet feeling. I had a moment of horror when I realized I must have wet my pants. But a thought came popping into my head that, although I did have a decent-sized bladder, I didn’t expect that everything from my belly button down would be floating in water if I had peed my pants. The reasoning seemed very logical, and I spent several moments congratulating myself on my mental acuity. But then a new inquiry floated through the molasses which seemed to be taking residence in my head. If I didn’t pee my pants, then why are my pants wet? Great question! I took a few seconds to congratulate myself on my mental prowess, this time in the form of investigative skills.

  I considered opening my eyes, but the thought alone made my stomach clench. The way my stomach turned made me realize that my head was, in fact, about to explode. I could feel every heartbeat in my skull as a hammer strike until I was pretty sure the bone couldn’t take any more pressure. I concentrated on my breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. The pain eased a little. I continued to focus only on my breathing and pushed away the tendrils of panic that were forming. Whatever situation I was in could wait to be discovered until the pain subsided a little. Inhale, exhale. Okay. I was ready now. My eyes popped open. Brown and green stripes. I focused a little harder.

  Grass? Reeds and mud? Was I in some sort of pond? And what was my last memory? Jia. Jia hit me with something. This was the second time she had clobbered someone. I sighed. I guess I probably shouldn’t have given Drew such a hard time; Jia could pack a punch. But why was I in a pond? And where was this pond? Inhale, exhale. Sit up. The construction workers in my head threw down their hammers and fired up their pile drivers. I waited a few minutes and then looked around again. Thank God I wasn’t far from the guest house. I could see its roof sticking over the top of a small hill. I looked at the water submerging my other half. I was in a cow pond, fed by a line from a nearby well
. Luckily, it looked like the cattle hadn’t been using this water facility recently, and it was fairly clear of cow pies. I haltingly got to my feet. If I could only get to the guest house, I could call Elin. I didn’t let myself think about what I would do if Jia was still there.

  ***

  I drove home wearing a pair of Elin’s calf-length yoga pants which I needed to eighties tight roll at the bottom so I wouldn’t trip over them. I comforted myself by thinking how much more time I save putting on pants than my tall sister does. Even though I didn’t mention it to Elin, I was worried about Jia’s last comment about good and evil and “taking me there.” Jia had seemed to be a reasonable person before the Qiang tragedy, but now, she was making more and more questionable decisions. I was afraid that she was going to do something truly regrettable soon and by the way that she talked, I had this feeling that I was going to be part of her plan.

  I couldn’t come up with a good road map of where to go with Jia, so I decided to try to let it drop. But before going to bed, I checked the closets and under my bed for any Jia monsters.

  The next day was the first day of school. I don’t know if students realize this, but teachers get nervous for the first day as well. My method of dealing with the nerves is to try to be extra prepared. All handouts were copied, seating charts color coded, and my desk, for the last time in the year, was free of any paper stacks.

  This year was extra nerve-racking because of the new school and my switch from a large public school to a small, art-based private school. But I did know that I would set my expectations high and fully expected my students to reach them. The first few weeks, I try to be extra firm on rules and procedures to set up a good atmosphere in my classroom. Even with the stricter tone, the day seemed to go well, and there were even some laughs during the class. I had several students gripe that science was their least favorite subject. But rather than getting depressed by their statements, I decided that I was going to try to change their mind. At the end of the day, I had several for-fun-only bets set up with students that, by the end of the year, science was going their second-least-favorite subject.