The Awakening

Gaby. I swear.'

Temper snapping, she rounded on him. 'Good God, man, don't be a complete imbecile. You can't protect me. I'm the one who—'

She cut herself short on that awesome disclosure. Breathing hard, she stared at Luther and saw his fascination, his interest. Oh God.

Rot out her tongue. Make her mute. Let her faint. Something.

But the only thing that happened was Luther's puzzled frown. 'You're the one who… ? What? Murdered that old man? Mutilated his body?' His voice deepened to a feral growl. 'Lopped off his damn head?'

Shaken, depleted, Gaby pulled herself to her feet. She stared across the street as she asked, 'Where'd you get that idea?'

Slowly, Luther stood too. 'I didn't. Have that idea, I mean. I was being facetious.'

'Oh. Good.' She needed to go inside. No. One glance at the dreary entrance and she knew there was nothing in there but her restless thoughts. She started across the street instead, going where, she didn't know yet.

Just away from Luther Cross.

'Let me tell you something right now. Gaby. You're a nanosecond away from being arrested.'

Gaby waved that away. 'Leave me alone. You're nuts.'

'I will arrest you.'

'No you won't.'

Growling again, he warned, 'Don't try me.'

Gaby stopped, but didn't turn to face him. 'What do you want, Luther?'

She counted five heartbeats before he replied.

'Having you say my name is a start. But I have questions, and I want answers.'

Over her shoulder, Gaby took his measure. 'What kind of questions?'

'The kind best handled in conversation instead of at the station with you in handcuffs.'

Another tired sigh almost took away her knees. She moved two steps closer to him. 'You were telling the truth? No one would believe me if I told them what you did?'

He stepped closer, too. 'I don't know, but is it worth the effort when you look so beat?'

It didn't take her long to decide to give in. 'Come on. I'll buy us Cokes and we can sit by the playground.'

'The same playground you used to lose me last time.' But he fell into step beside her.

Neither of them spoke. When she reached Chuck's, she went to the window and gave their order. 'Anything else?' she asked Luther.

'I'm good.'

Yeah, he was. The colorful sunset enhanced a large orange halo encircling him. Optimism, strength. He had both in spades. He'd make a good teacher, a capable leader of others.

Gaby dug two bills from her pocket and paid for the drinks. The cans must've sat in ice because they dripped frosty chips, and when she popped the tab, a fog escaped.

After a deep drink, Luther put a fist to his mouth to muffle a belch and said, 'Good. Thank you.'

Gaby rolled the cold can over her forehead and, knowing he'd follow, went up the street to an empty bench. With each step she examined the playground. Metal equipment wore shades of rust. A cracked wooden swing offered splinters to an unknowing hiney. But the few children still at play didn't care. Shirtless, most of them shoeless, they mellowed as evening approached, carefree, unaware, and happy.

Just as they should be.

Gaby's stride kicked up brittle leaves. The sun sank further into the horizon until lengthening shadows encompassed everything. Most of the kids would head home now. Others, more neglected, would linger or wander off to different, less puerile amusements.

Gaby stopped by the chain-link fence. As lampposts flickered on, mothers called their offspring home, their voices carrying on the stagnant air.

The youthful crowd thinned—and an older crowd crawled out.

The nightlife started, and with it came a force of hookers, dope dealers, drunks, and thugs. Gaby started to sit.

'Careful.'

Luther used the toe of his shoe to nudge away a dead, dried-up mouse curled around the bench leg. She felt much like that critter—used up and frangible.

Cradling her canned drink in a loose hold, Gaby plopped down. 'So. You on duty?'

'I got off an hour ago.'

'And came to see me.' She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and indulged a slow drink. 'You do realize how pathetic that makes you, right?'

'You think so?'

'Definitely.' The thought occurred to her, and spilled off her tongue. 'Don't you have a wife tucked away somewhere, or at least a significant other you could hassle instead of me?'

'Sorry, I don't have either.' He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. 'What about you?'

'No wife.'

That got a chuckle out of him. 'Good. Husband, significant other? Now or… ever?'

'No.'

An odd inquisitiveness gleamed in his dark eyes. 'How old are you. Gaby?'

'Just turned twenty-one.'

'Just?'

'I met you on my birthday, Cross. Now what kind of queer gift is that, do you think?'

'I didn't know.'

That seemed to bother him. ''Even if you had, so what? It doesn't mean anything.' Except that she'd survived another year, and that, perhaps, was something worth celebrating.

'I thought you were older.'

'Do I have wrinkles?'

'No, but you have older eyes. Eyes that have seen some ugly things.'

Gaby groaned at the absurdity—and truth—in that. 'Let's cut the melodramatic crap, okay? Between that and the heat, I'll puke.'

His halfhearted smile came and went. 'All right. Then I'll start with my first question. You said your mother died birthing you. So who raised you?'

Tracing her fingertips through the sweat on her can gave Gaby something to look at other than him. 'The state.'

'Always?'

'Yep. I had a few foster homes, but they didn't last long.' She pressed her thumb inward, denting the can. 'I was too weird for normal people to put up with.' She glanced his way. 'I freaked people out. They didn't want me around their real kids. They didn't want to be around me.'

'Maybe as a kid you misinterpreted things.'

'No. They spelled it out.' Hell, she could still hear the conversations in her head, blunt, to the point, but not deliberately cruel. It was too hot to shrug, so she simply said, 'I didn't blame them. I was weird enough that even I realized it.'

Luther watched a bird light on the sidewalk in front of them, snatch up a bug, and then take flight again. 'I think you're unique, Gaby, but I wouldn't call you weird.'

'That's 'cause you're weird, too.' She looked him over. 'Why else would you have groped me?'

Exasperated, Luther plunked his can down on the sidewalk and turned on the bench to face her. 'All right, since in typical female fashion, it keeps coming back to that—'

'Typical female fashion? Me? Now you're delusional.'

'I groped you because there's some sexual chemistry going on between us.'

Gaby worked up a believable gag. 'There, you see? I told you. Heat. Bullshit. It's a combo guaranteed to turn my stomach.'

'You do it to me even when you're gagging.' He held up his hands. 'But I'm practicing a 'don't touch' policy.