Shoe on the Tree

A Story by Hanks

“Why would someone leave a shoe here? Whose these might be?”

Shoe on the tree

Part-I

“Why would someone leave a shoe here? Whose these might be?”

There was a shoe sitting on a tree inheriting from the family of Eastern hemlock's in the woods of Wilmington, North Carolina. Six in the morning during Fall of 1989, jogging through the Brandywine creek state park trail, heading back home something shined amidst the bushes.

The welt, stitched beautifully in black, coated in silver was glimmering. Inspiring from farcical detectives from the movies, I had a few deductions on my own. It was a girl’s shoe judging from the small shoe size and the red colored interior, Sole of the shoe was heavily burned out, Mud sneaked into the crevices of the inner sole, the lace was. There are only two things i have learned from cinema "never leave the object in context” and “women never run when told to, they always ask questions”. As i was picking the shoe with my towel, I had felt punches from both perplexity and curiosity. The clock ticked seven; it’s time for ma darling’s famous scrambled eggs and orange juice.

Removing it from the towel, I hid it in the garage beneath the bedroom. Located on a small lake, which is a bypass of the Delaware River, it's a beautiful home we have got.

I am Parmesan Jamaican, son of an illegally migrated dad from Jamaica a lot of decades back. My dad was a tobacco farmer, a profound admirer for cheese and his home country which concatenated into my name. I hated him for my name. I would've dropped school the day professor Julius called my name in front of every student in the class, had i had a say. I graduated from the North Carolina State University at Wilmington. During the time of this story, i was working as a type writer for the government of united states. I have typed saddening news, disturbing narrative of incidents happened to their beloved one's, welcome letters to the veterans and a lot that can never be revealed. This was my first job out of college and the last job. Thirty years passed by writing s**t for people who never felt a thing they had me written. I have two kids who live up north in new york chasing as they quote 'careers'. They were stuck for the major part of the life chasing money as i was to my monotonic vigor-less life since years. I would say life has lost its appeal, as anyone might expect it at Sixty-four.

My Wife is a simple White girl born in Southern Highlands and brought up in Wilmington. Her love for me is beyond sky. We were high school sweethearts and we have been married for more than twenty-five years, if you live with someone for that long you either hate them or love them overwhelmingly. The latter happened for us. She is religious, humorous and also the best cook in town, people would gather around to taste her dishes. All she prayed was for my health and well being.

"Good Morning Dear" I said gently poking my lips on her cheeks.

"Moni'ng Darling, you have been rather late today?"

"It was slippery"

"Ye, What happened to the towel?" she asked unwrapping the towel. The shoe left its marks all over the piece of white cloth.

“It slipped through”

Hot Bath followed by scrambled Eggs, perfectly fried bacon and Orange juice life’s just beautiful with her.

“You are the best” I told her and was off to office.

I had a regular no workday; no one uses my services these days. Technology as I know of is ripping people of their jobs, may be its Good or maybe not. Having a resource and not being able to utilize is infectivity of management. They should either fire me or assign some work. I should not complain today as I was engrossed in a personal imaginations, the shoe from the morning. My train of thought had a lot of stops to find out the various probabilities that might have happened to place the shoe where it was. Every stop had a common signal, “It’s a dumb kid”. I reassured myself that i might be over thinking it. It was Five, home was calling.

Tea and cookies were on the table as i reached home, also with a note 'Off to Nina’s. Love’. It was green tea filled with lemons and honey. It was delicious. I had a cup of it and some cookies, i felt rejuvenated. I slipped into something comfortable and this time Garage was calling. I grabbed magnifying glasses which revealed that there were stones from the park and some wet stubs of wood coalesced with mud. It was not much of a discovery, i was still sticking to the “dumb kid’s shoe” story. But as i was closing the case undetected, i ripped it apart accidentally.

Mud was all over my garage, amidst the mass of mother natures rocky and muddy children there was a paper which looked like a sixteen fold. I was sure it was a map, i was always fascinated by the idea of a treasure hunt. I always won during school days, in treasure hunt simulations. Hoping to relive the adventure in a larger and real form, i unfolded it. Speechless in stupefaction,i was looking at a poster of some kind a rockstar. He had long hair with guitar and written “ Kurt Cobain”. I am not much into music, but i could tell he was a star. But the most appalling thing is how can one fold this huge poster (24X24) into so many folds. It had a few fold imprints on it, also blurred as it was in rain. As i looked down there was also a small piece of paper on the floor.

“A ne M r e“

It did not make sense to me. I wanted to scrap it but i don't know what made me hold on to it.

What could the letters mean? I wasn't sure if it had to be considered as substantial information. I woke up at five that day. Having terrible nightmares of someone trapped in a room wearing one shoe, same as the one i found earlier. I skipped jogging for that day. I ran to the only person i know who could have some insight, popularly regarded as the “walking news legend” of our place. His name is Mark. He is a retired journalist from a famous news paper, he wouldn't tell which one. I am guessing New york times. He loves information, I've known him for more than fifteen years and he cannot live without talking news or knowing news.

I knocked his door, it was open. He was still sleeping, i had him gently patted on his head for a couple of times he did not respond. I banged his head hard against the bed frame.

"Whhhhat the f**k are you doing ?"

"I need some information"

"time of your death?”

"I’am serious mark. Its 8 already ”

“No its not, I can tell the time looking at the Sun. It’s half past 8.” he said, without even popping his eyes open.

“ Right. wake up we need to talk”

“Please break up with me ! What the f**k you want to talk about this early in the morning?" He rolled in his bed like a porcupine in a pig's body. It seemed that he was trying to find his clothes under the bed. Oh dear god, I hope he is alone. He was known for having unconventional partners. I was out of the bedroom in an iffy just so that i wouldn’t see him naked. I was also afraid that i had to see two of them. He came out dressed up, donning pair of glasses.

“Alright, whats going on?”

"Is there any one missing with a shoe size six? “ I thought i had hit the bulls eye. My only fear is that the shoe might belong to a poor girl who had been absconded or raped or probably killed.

“Ah, Yes. Let me look at “People and shoes” document.What’s wrong with ya? you high cheeseball?" he always calls with me cheese related names. I hate my dad again.

“Hear me out you sarcastic son of a b***h" I explained it to him showing him the shoe. I did not get the poster with me since it was big and it was drizzling.

“Oh, that’s the context for your question.” Ha had gone to his desk and got a book on it. It looked like he was looking through yesterday’s minutes or notes or whatever they call it. He made various sounds, it was like looking a chimpanzee tamed to read books. he nodded his head in disappointment

"What's the matter?"

"Sheriff Anthony Rodgers daughter has been missing since tuesday night. She is Fifteen” he held his head amidst the palms and “She might be the one” he exclaimed.

“How do you know that? “

“coz she is just 16 and also a Nirvana fanatic”

“Do you know her?"

“Of course I know her. Jessica is a sweetheart and a smart kid." he got of lounge” I am making some coffee you need some?” mark asked.

“Yes”

He brought two cups of dark roast french coffee with two cinnamon buns. The coffee was amazing.

"This is terrible “

“Coffee?”

“Ain't it too early to be dumb. jess missing and you finding the shoes that's whats terrible”

“Ah common all I have is a shoe and a poster. That could be anyone“

“Tell that to the Sheriff” he said looking grave right in the eyes.

“Why would i tell the Sheriff, you tell him if you want” I said. I always feared cops, luckily I never had to deal with them.

“Sorry i forgot you had Cop-phobia” .

“I don’t have any cop-phobia. That's not even a real term. I just keep my distance from them. “ I clarified.

“Alright, I'll do the talking. Is the spot where you had seen the shoe on the way to sheriff’s? “

“Yes. I believe so"

“Let’s grab a torch and get started”

Heading towards the spot where I found the shoe, i felt the loneliness the speechless animals might feel. The trees sounded dead, the lake appeared mystically still, a grim aurora had dominance over the dark roast coffee.The howling of the fox, seemed more like a cry for rescue from loneliness. It was horrifyingly dark and scary to move before sun greets the world. Though we had the torch it was just a drop in the ocean, the wilderness was beyond my imagination. It looked like a huge death bed spread across the woods. All the fear and bravery were in vain, it was like a Wild goose Chase. Finally the sun decided to show up for our search. It was half past six in the morning, all the fears embracing the weak heart of mine had succumbed to the mighty brightness.

"To the sheriff's?" he asked

“It’s six thirty, i have a meeting at office. You go catch up with Sheriff” All i wanted was to escape seeing a cop.

“No you don’t. You never have any meetings at the office. He won’t gobble you. Let’s go” he urged.

"Seems like I have no say” I whined.

As we knocked the reddish brown door made out of oak tree,dressed in brown khaki trousers topped by a white shirt, pair of glittering black pointy shoes there he was standing tall over six feet making us look puny. His legs were really huge but well supported by the evident calf muscle and his biceps protruding through the shirt. He was none less than the James bond.

'Hey Mark, What ya doin here so early?' he asked stunned.

'Can we come in and talk?’ He strongly believes that ” Walls have ears”. He always tend to get nervous while talking something in a public place with more than two people. He has a lot of these old habits that might have embraced his soul during the time he was a reporter.

'Sure' he opened the door for us.

It was a simple yet bright themed house, having ample indications of the presence of kids. I could see his wife's aesthetic touch considering her interior design classes she had done in the university. We were from the same school but from quite different branches. I also observed that the flowers were on the rag instead of in the vase, also the vase was broken, i could barely see the kitchen but managed to capture blurred vision of vessels thrown on the floor. It might be sheriff's wife way of soothing anger.

'What's this about Mark? tell me you have something good.' he urged

'I am afraid not' I said. He hung his head disappointed.

Mark slowly removed the shoe from his hoodie holder,

"Is the shoe jess's? “

Sheriff dropped his jaw instantaneously in disbelief, his eyes screamed pain like i have never seen in anyones eyes. I can see that its his daughter's shoe, his hands began trembling as much as a doctors hand would operating on his daughter. Mark was devastated looking at him.

He did not intend to say 'YES',though his heart and brain, tears from eyes shot the answer straight in our face. It is definitely the toughest debate of any one's life, asking if a piece of clothing was related to their departed or kidnapped or missing child. It's someone's extended soul, most valuable asset and you ask them to identify if he was dead or alive. He was quite sure it was her's but could not believe it that her little baby is in trouble.

Mother had rushed in anticipating news on jess, her eyes had a glance at the shoes in Sheriff's hand. She dropped on her knees pushing all her strength against the television stand. It was pretty intense to watch them pouring their heart's out. We stepped off for a smoke just to make sure that they have some time in private. After a couple of minutes, he joined us for a smoke

"Where hmm did you find?" asked sheriff

"Down the BrandyWine creek state park trail, it was tangled to a tree' I explained in brevity. He was nodding the whole time,i wasn't really sure if he was listening.

"Sorry but I have to ask, are the police investigating the case?" I asked after i was done narrating.

"Well..hmm..Yes I Think so. I was dropped as i get too emotional as its my daughter”.

"When did you realize she was missing?”

"I have seen her on Monday night, She was gone while we woke up yesterday morning "he said.

"Does she have any boy friends?”

"No" he sternly replied

“Did she love music?" Mark asked

"She showed some interest in a particular band and was playing music loud a few times. I dumped her collections in the lake. she never played it at our home" he replied.

“Do you mind if we had a look at her room?” I asked

He gazed at us probably thinking why the f**k are these two retired b******s trying to sabotage the investigation.

“I don’t think that’s necessary” Mark said.

We waved byes and Mark said “What the f**k is wrong with you today? You ask a police officer if you can investigate his home?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Remember? You are a type f*****g writer” he yelled. We did not talk much on our way back home. I was thinking of calling in a sick leave to the office and try to sleep it off. We headed back to mark’s but he suggested we go to my place and check the poster.

It was almost Eight in the morning, I had the poster spread across on the garage floor and he asked "Do you have any idea about the person in the poster?"

“Except that he is a kurt Cobain, No”

“You don’t listen to music do ya? He is Kurt Cobain the Lead Singer of huge band Nirvana "

“No. You still listening to music Marky?" I was jealous of his enthusiasm towards it.

"Sure I do" he answered

“If sheriff had thrown all her stuff away, how did she manage to have this poster?” I asked.

“Thats an interesting but unanswerable question at this point of time. but you have to agree this is exciting isn’t it?” Mark looked like a bloating baby.

“Someone is in danger and you are happy about it?” I was furious.

“I am not happy i am just excited. There is a difference” he said

“Sheriff might have missed it or someone might have given it to her, like a boy friend? “ I speculated.

“She was a honest girl, i don’t think she would sneak out with someone”

“We need to know what those words are if we ever wanna solve this case. also do you have any clue how many people in our town might be interested in this band?”

“A lot of people”

“I need a number mark”

“Sixty homes probably but why” he questioned.

“I have a gut that there is a boy friend in the scene” I never had any gut to go with since i was out of college. The problem was that we had no idea not know how to get together all the nirvana admirers to one place but also scrutinize each of them. All the ideas we had were to knock the door and get a*s kicked. Margaret had prepared tea for us, we decided to take a break from the madness. I was worried we might not be able to go any further on this. She had the radio turned on which had some music trivia going on. The anchor announced at the end of the call that they would give away two tickets for the winner of this music trivia for a concert. That term concert brought in lot of reactions on Mark’s double chinned face.

“fake charity " he yelled.

"What?"

"Lets do a fake charity concert registration.“

"That is brilliant”

"We can print and slip the fliers into the news papers before circulation" I advised.

“Lets get some photocopies of the poster and distribute it them to everyone who attends” Mark had advised

“Why?

“If someone had it gifted to Jessie, which i totally disagree upon they would react to the poster. You have to watch out “

“So we just base our whole experiment basing on reactions people might or might not display?” I was not sure it was gonna work.

“Got a better idea?” I was awfully quiet.

“Thought so” Mark said and left to look for someone to lend their home to set up a fake office. Mr hemings had the house empty for the week and Mark was lucky enough to grab him before he left to Charlotte for the week. He was kind enough to lend his house for an investigation to help find a girl. We did not appraise sheriff of our plan, he might as well get us arrested. Mark had a senior officer who happened to be his childhood friend, persuaded him to manage the media and police on this fake event fuzz. He mentioned not to let the Sheriff get aware of these events. Mark mentioned that he thought that the plan was brilliant. We had the fliers slipped in to news papers as planned which read

"We are thrilled to announce that Alumni of University of North Carolina Wilmington is organizing a free benefit show, which includes performances from the hit band nirvana on August 26th at Amphitheatre in UNC Wilmington. We have limited seats only, please enroll yourself between 11 and 1 today at Mr. Hemmings mansion"

We also had a few of them stuck to university classroom doors. We also printed

The clock struck Eleven. As we walked past Mark’s home towards Hemings mansion, there were a huge horde of people waiting outside of the home.

“This is overwhelming amount of crowd”

“What did i tell ya? “ he smiled and “ By the way make sure you prep up a nice sorry note in advance. It better have a very good reason to escape the wrath of these many fans” He whispered fear in me.

I never in wild dreams had to deal with so many frenzied people. They were stampedes, pushing’s, trampling’s and all sort of physically damaged people. The main issue that we had to look at each and every one’s reaction , distributing that darn huge image of the Kurt. Mark was really good at handling people, he worked in President Bush’s campaign for a couple of years doing that. He is a true republican and a trooper.

There were people with tattoos, hippies, I can tell a few of them were high. Their state of fanatics had reached a new heights, singing the songs, playing guitar its all they might have been doing all these years. There was one kid who looked psychotic, the good thing we did was to ask them to write their name and address so that we could fake post tickets to their house. He had dressed up in Bell-bottomed jeans which was torn in- appropriate places. I wasn’t judging him based on what he wears but there was a vibe from him that he might have killed in the past. It was sad to see that none reacted to the poster. It was two in the afternoon, hunger had gotten to us. I tell ya, you can stop me from going sleep but when a man is hungry salvation is all he asks for. Deciding to close the office on account of unfruitful outcome Mark was cleaning up the mess, there were papers all over. Furniture was in its position back inside, papers cleared out of the yard, we wrapped it up. Walking back to Mark’s place, he performed his weird “ I am right “ dance. It was embarrassing even for him too.

“Wait, i forgot to lock the door in the back” Mark said. Waiting for him to return, I waited in front of the house kicking stones into the bushes towards the right end. I had this peculiar habit of kicking stones to see how far could i go.

“Ah” someone shouted from the bushes. The stone must have hit him

“I am sorry, i did not know there was someone “ I said walking towards the bushes to see who it was. There was a kid probably in mid teens trembling, wearing a dark grey jeans topped by non contrast green color shirt. He looked a lot disoriented. As i got closer, he was trying to walk away from me. Pushing my feeble legs, i paced towards him. No farther than ten steps i got hold of him

“Who are you? Why are you running?” he did not answer.

“Mark you have to see this“ I shouted.

I could tell there was some issue with this kid, either he is mentally unstable or had some issues with the way he talks, every word took more than a few seconds “I hmmm did …. nothing “

We had him sit on a chair, asked him a million questions he could never reply back. We heard footsteps approaching us, they were more like fast thumping nearing us. Turns out that Mr. Freaking Hemings on his way had an encounter with Sheriff. He had him told everything. It was Sheriff running like a beast towards us.

“What the f**k you think you are doing?” he looked and sounded serious.

“We are trying to help you, Anthony ” Mark’s persuasion was way beyond sheriff’s rational thought.

“Help? you retired b******s ain’t gonna snoop around my baby’s case” he was f*****g angry.

“Do you even know this guy? He might know where your daughter is” Mark bluffed hoping for truth.

Oh dear god, emotional isn’t a word sufficient to portray the anger Sheriff had. He had the kid bashed so f*****g bad, there was blood and black eyes. Our strength could not stop his pain. He had sent in his subordinates to gather the kid’s parents. That kid did not utter a single word during the whole time. Sheriff kept plunging his visage so close on to the kid’s face, asking questions. You don’t ask questions if you are breathing his exhaled air. i don’t think even a normal person would be able to reply.

Dressed in a golden grayish dress covered by a golden pink colored fleece she walked towards the mansion, followed by two cops. Having ample wrinkles indicating her age above forty, she rushed as she got in proximity. She had curly short brown hair, looking her furious best, cheeks turned red in anger, her golden blue was filled with tears but her anger constrained the flow.

“What happened to him?” She looked with such powerful eyes as they depict in portraits of Indian goddess, it was frightening and at the same time heartening.

“Why would you do something like this to him?”

“My daughter has been missing since two days and he might know where she is but he wasn’t talking” Sheriff said.

“You are f*****g stupid” she shouted cleaning the boys wounds with her fleece. “ This is Chris, my Son.He is autistic child with impaired social interaction. He can’t even talk to me and you beat the crap out of him? “ her anger had reason. Honestly i think keeping sheriff out of the case is really a good idea, he did not know how to react to her comments.

“I am sorry” Sheriff apologized.

“Who is your daughter?”

“Jessica ” Sheriff said.

“Are you the Sheriff, jessie’s dad?” she asked.

“Do you know Jessie?” Sheriff asked politely. It’s so good to see him bent down over a powerful women.

“I need to go home to dress his wounds first.” she started walking around the mansion to the west of it. There was a small passage towards her home. It was probably less than a mile.

We walked until we were at a small cottage with a huge amount of back yard. There were four rooms, the built of the house looked like it was more than fifteen years but the interiors were crisp enough. There was a small cushion and radio which i guess was their major source of entertainment. She had a knitting machine, there were garments for kids lying on the bench. She seemed amazing person for a single mother.

After dressing the wounds she brought us all some sandwiches, it was past lunch time. It was three twenty in the afternoon, she was so generous enough to feed the guy who had his kid beaten black and blue.

“How do you know jessie” I asked

“Is she alright? or is she in trouble?” she asked

“We don’t know” I answered

“What has happened?”

“That, Your son might be able to tell us. How do you know her?” Mark said

“She used to visit Chris every day, she is the only friend Chris ever had. He was thrown out of school as they termed him “special needs kid” . I tried to home school him, he always had an issue bonding with other people, just talking is also huge for him. He met jessie at the park, she brought him and home and listened to him until midnight. From then, she visits every day only for a few hours, that’s the only time i get to see Chris smile. She showed him how to enjoy music, he started liking in fact loving whatever she did. They both used to listen music and they used to sing sometimes. I thought he could barely talk in his life time but he began singing in small when she was around. I can’t believe she is in trouble, I saw her two nights ago” she said. It was one hell of a revelation.

“So she was here two days back?” I questioned

“Yes, she left the house at eleven thirty in the night, as usual” she continued “Jess told me that you hated music and so she used to come here just to listen to it”.

Sheriff had all his beliefs shattered in a split of a second. It’s one thing to hear about your daughter’s mischief but this was off putting.

“Did she mention, where she was leaving that night?” I asked

“No, i presumed that she was going home as usual” she continued “You haven’t told me if something has happened to her?”

“We don’t know anything yet. You are the last person to see her”

“What?”

“Yes. You should’ve made Sheriff’s family aware of the happenings ” Mark tried to pin it on her.

“She insisted not to. I am a mother of that child who cannot express his feelings nor can he cry nor can he do homework as regular kids. She keeps him happy and i knew you wouldn’t want your daughter to hang around disabled kid? would ya? . I know i wouldn’t if she was my daughter “ she said

I agreed to with her but was not sure if i would ever do it, considering the fact that its a girl and also that her parents doesn’t know where she might be during night.

“Are you sure she had gone home from here?” I asked again just to make sure

“I never ask her anything. She leaves whenever she is done listening i always assumed she was going back home, wasn’t she?”

“You don’t know? A teenage kid leaves your home at eleven thirty and you f*****g don’t know where she might have gone?”

“don’t come and yell in ma house. She said her parents were fine with it” she retorted.

“I am sorry that you believe fifteen year olds” I snorted

“Yeah well she could f*****g talk to me unlike my fifteen year old” she started crying.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that”. I gently patted her on the back to sooth her down.

“Can I talk to the boy? “ Sheriff asked few minutes later.

“Hell no! He had enough of you today” she replied back.

“Can i?” asked Mark

“I am not sure what would you get more out of him. But I will be in the same room” she nodded

“Not a problem” Mark said.

She walked into Chris room. It took her fifteen minutes to get him up and running to move to the next room. He came out of the doors, he looked afraid of Sheriff. He hesitated to walk ahead, his mom had to persuade him that Sheriff isn’t gonna hurt you. He took baby steps towards the lounge and had taken a seat.

“I am sorry I had hit you.” Sheriff apologized to the kid he bashed.

He just nodded.

Mark took a picture of Jessie from Sheriff and showed it to Chris

“Do you know where she is?” he asked gently.

“do you..? “ he asked.

“No. Did she say something while leaving that night?” Mark asked

“No” he nodded again but in disapproval

“Did she return back home from here?” sheriff shouted.

“Not … deaf… “ he smirked “ I don’t know”

“Why would she linger in the woods at night?” Sheriff questioned openly.

“She wanted to become a journalist” said Chris with a lot of pride in his voice. I don’t mean to be judgy but Mark was blushing a bit.

"Did she tell you what was she working on?” Mark asked

“Something…bi..g…shock….to..wn” he said again.

“Something big to shock the town?” i repeated. he nodded agreeing.

“Do you know what it was?”

“No"

“Why were you there today at the registration? “ I asked

“To ..se…e.. jess…she lov..ee…s nirrvaana..” he said with tear filled eyes.

“You haven’t seen her in two days and you thought she might turn up to the registration ? “ asked his mom surprised that he can process emotions. She was happy yet sad, happy that he can relate to emotions with someone and sad that someone is missing.

“Thanks a lot Chris” Said sheriff. We thanked Debra for her kind hospitality.

“Seems like I never knew my daughter” Sheriff was so upset.

“Don’t go too hard on yourself.” Mark advised sheriff.

Part II

Back home after a few minutes, we started looking at the words on the paper. They all looked valuable to mark, now that she wanted to do journalism. He mentioned that everything a true journalist writes is a piece of history. He has so high regards towards them, to me they are just the news guys.

“She must have gotten onto something that had killed her” he said.

Expecting a way out, we decided to search her room. The room was beautiful for a fifteen year old. It had a small bed with frame, covered with pink cotton sheets. A few books were on the bed, also a scrabble board which had “dirty,ship,coast,harry". There was a study table and a lamp which had more books. There was a closet in which had a rack occupied by shoes,books and clothes. It had a couple of rented books and video cassettes from the school library. In desperation comes unsubstantial results, there were no evidences linking her to journalism. We had dismantled every thing in that room and searched every nook of the place.

“She was quite depressed since a month" Debra mentioned as sheriff had left the home. She seems nervous around him.

“ depressed over?” I asked

“I am not sure. She used tell me everything that was going in her life, She would play some music when her dad wasn’t in home. It stopped since a fortnight. I thought it was just the teen-age phase. I was so stupid” she took the blame on her shoulders. It wasn’t her fault, may be may be not. I asked her if she ever had any idea what must have happened two weeks back, she answered with austere gesture

“No. I would’ve stopped if i could” . It was tough to leave that place.

“Seems like a dead end again” I said.

“ “ as mark started to say something, i had some tingling sensation in the back.

I couldn’t see anything, standing seemed not possible, chained to iron buckles pierced deeply into the wall, shoved me back on to the ground. Senses had just began to arouse, these chains are depicted in movies where the antagonist kidnap or in Alcatraz prison. There was Mark tied in the similar manner adjacent to me. he was still in sleep like a log.

It was a huge room, placing us in the south east corner of the room. On the north there was an elevated slab of concrete,elevated by steps, also fenced by strong iron bars. Illusions of someone f*****g powerful kicked my butt. There was an chair made out of leather illustrating Royal demeanor. I had imagined various outcomes of this situation, the most possible was that some a*****e who is real rich, had us kidnapped and would release only one person who wins fight between two of us (me and mark). I can never fight this b*****d, he is fat and more stronger.

or it might be that he is the one who had the girl kidnapped and would come straight in and shoot us for pursuing against him. Either way i end up dead. It’s a sick f*****g life, i thought.

“Where are we” he woke up “Why are we chained?” he started freaking out

“Alright, calm down. I don’t know where we are”

“Oh I know. “ he said looking around the room we were located in. There was a small window which just showed the clock tower of wilmington, which is closed for never ending renovation. This is is Alfonso Tupo’s den”

“Who the f**k is he?”

“Your night f*****g mare” said a loud and dominating tone. He walked in right through the doors, I could immediately tell it was his chair. From where i sat chained, he looked like the most despicable person i might ever meet in this life which was about to end. Standing above six feet, he looked down us as mere objects. Brown boots on his strongly built long legs glittered as much as the one who had done it, had bleed. Donning a dark greenish black trouser, with a round golden belt which had a small golden bar across the center radius of the circle. It read “f**k you” in a circular fashion. His shirt had buttons made in black, but they would standout in a million shirts. Covering it was an outer coat in dark brown which made him look like a f*****g god father. Placing his googles aside on the cup holders of his chair he began talking

“Seems like the chubby knows my name. I’am surprised you are still alive” . I looked at mark, he was trembling with fear as much as i was. I hate to say it but this has been by far the most fearful moment in my life. He removed his rifles from both the pockets in a subtle fashion, holding them in both of his hands he was defining “Smooth criminal”.

“I hear you both are interested in mysteries” he had his fingers on triggers.

“If you are gonna kill me, can we get some whisky” Mark said pretending to have shrugged his fear of death

“Why would i waste it on you?” alfonso asked.

“Consider it my last wish” he argued like a lawyer would.

“Whisky for the gentleman“. There was a heavily built guy who poured whiskey into two gorgeous looking glasses. Opening the iron bar gate he placed them near our knees and had left. We were looking surprised, alfonso said

“ You asked for whiskey. You never asked if you could drink it”. Now thats either stupid or intellectual, i couldn’t tell with my hands tied to that f*****g brick walk.

“Ah, Cmon” Mark shouted.

“You will have your whiskey, once i know enough about the girl” he asked the guy who stood behind him and said” Jessica”. Aha, its this guy who killed her i did somersault in my brain thinking i was right. We told him everything we have seen, heard, discovered. It was pretty much our moments since last 30 hours.

“So you have nothing?” he said.

“Technically, yes” I replied, mark added “We can get more only if we knew….” Alfonso raised his hand and mark stopped talking.Who wouldn’t if they were facing a guy holding rifles in both the hands?

“Spare your reasons for your wife” he paused for a second and had his assistant lit a cigar. All of a sudden movie became real. He whispered something in the stout built guy’s ears, he removed the gate lock and entered towards us. That’s it I am dead for no apparent reason, why couldn’t i let the shoe go? What is wrong with me? pressure was accumulating in me and brain had sporadic reactions and over the board imaginations. He was heading onto me first, as he held the chains tied to my hands i shouted

“Please, don;t kill me” .

“Relax, whisky first” Alfonso said Oh, so its a consolation that i get to die drunk?

Every single drop of alcohol in the glass, felt like the last breaths of our life. Mark had it in a single gulp. It did taste amazing though.

“Now that you had my whiskey, I have work for ya” Alfonso said

“You are not killing us?” I asked.

“if you do it right, No. “ he had a sip of whiskey “That girl, Jessica had knocked door of one of my big clients in this town. She was drenched in blood, she had a wooden stake pierced in her stomach. She had been admitted into hospital out of town to avoid news. She mentioned that something big would happen tomorrow night. There were heavy blows and is under coma. My client also mentioned that she also shouted “they took rachel” and passed away on his door front.”

“Who is your client” I asked, regretting it

“I can tell you, but i would have to kill you if i say so”

“That wouldn’t be necessary” Mark covered for me, “but i have to ask why us? why can’t some of your guys do it?”

“For one they are dumb and two everyone in this town know my men. They would stop doing whatever they are doing if they knew i had eyes on them” he continued “ You just have one day, i hope you prove yourself worthy of the whiskey. I need to know what happened to girl and whats happening under my nose in this city and who is doing it”

“How do we contact you if we have any information?” I asked

“I will contact you tomorrow evening.”. While we were leaving the room blind folded, he warned us “Do not mention my name to anyone”

We were blind folded again and dropped at Mark’s place.

“Who the f**k was that?” I asked

“He is the drug lord of the entire North Carolina. He grows distributes and also manages the market in NC. He never lives here, he stays always in various states in the country. I still cannot believe that i had seen him”

“how did you know it was his den? “ I asked

“I remember reading an article which had a picture of murdered guy in the same place we were sitting. We just got lucky” mark said.

“Dear lord. Let me inform my wife that i am alright and get back to you in an hour” I left the place.

This girl is mystery. Analogous to the poster I found in her shoe, she has so many shades and folds. Prioritizing what we had to do, finding Rachel is the pinnacle of our list. It was nine in the night, We woke up Debra to inquire if she knew who rachel was. She wasn’t sleeping, here eyes were red in color. We learnt that she was Jessie's best friend. She also mentioned that jessie had told that a few weeks back, Rachel’s parents moved to Colombia, Georgia. It was a four hour drive from wilmington. I told my wife i was off with mark for a small trip. I have never heard of a Colombia in Georgia state. As the clock ticked 7 in the morning, we reached the place. We asked around and were finally found someone who knew rachel and their parents. Rachel was daughter of a farmer. His name was jenkins. He said that he had no family but the only closes he ever had was rachel’s family. I asked why did they move from wilmington

“What option did they leave us? they had one more daughter they did not want to loose her as rachel” he said

“Loose rachel? ” I asked

“Yes, she had been missing from past month. They have tried everything, the police, a private investigator, searched the whole state of North Carolina. The police had ignored the case and said that she had ran away. I don’t think she would ever run off. I think they got to her”

“Who got to her?” I asked.

“I have seen a lot of people loosing their kids, specially farmers kids who never return back. Everyone i knew in that area had moved away from that place. There were also whispers about the place being haunted by a couple who never had kids”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I heard whispers that they are traded for money.”

“trade people?” Mark shockingly asked

“Yes.” he said. That was atrocious.

“Are they mostly girls?”

“No, there were even boys missing” he said.

“why couldn’t cops help ?” i asked

“There was someone who managed the cops of wilmington” he accused.

“:Thats even worst” said mark frustrated.

“Do you know where her parents are?”

“ I have never seen them again.”

“Thank you” We said and started driving back to wilmington. We were awfully quiet for more than a couple of hours, later he started the conversation

“flesh trade? In wilmington. This is so big, this is what jess might have found” mark said.

“I guess so but how did could she find out about rachel?” We drove to School where jessie and Rachel studied to find more about rachel or jessica. The dean of the school mentioned that rachel all of a sudden had stopped coming to school from a month. We asked if there was anything more she could tell of jess or Rachel,

“Jess is a very brave kid. She has a great sense of music, and she is the top performer in our music classes. She is not punctual in returning things to lab/library. Rachel was a simpleton who adored jess, they seemed close.” he said.

“She used take music classes? Can we see how she used to do? “ Mark asked.

“Sure” he called in for someone to fetch the reports.

“What did you mean by punctual in not returning things, do you have any record?” I asked.

“Yes, she had took some books, a binoculars a month back and they never came back” he mentioned.I wondered why we never found binoculars in her room.

A person, turned in reports related to music class. She had scored all A in them but there was one interesting observation, they were signed as “Harry”.

“Who is harry?” I asked

“It must be a mistake” he said confidently. I don’t think so. As we walked past the school gate, we left the place in a hastily as it was already seven in the evening, we were dropped off at Mark’s home. She signed her own music reports, her dad would’ve never signed it. Why would she sign it as harry? I remembered the words on the scrabble board,

dirty,

ship,

coast,

harry. They seemed like dirty harry, ship coast.

“Do you know any ship names starting with A?”

“Are you stupid?” he asked or said.

“Something that fits in An a M r e?” I asked

“Anna Marie? there was a report that it was drowned?” He said.

That sounded like a ship name. It must be the ship and coast in the scrabble. It still does not explain who harry was.

As we discovered the possible place of trading, we wanted to see tonight how it would happen. Just as i thought of alfonso, there he was right in front of my home. I shivered like hell, i asked him to come to garage.

“Is this how you welcome guests?” he chided

“No, but you are you” I said. We elucidated all our information and he was disgusted by the fact that there was flesh trade going on in this town. “Thats atrocious” he said. He asked us to go ahead and act natural.

“They might be armed” Mark suggested

“Not as much as you guys would be” he winked. The clock struck eleven, we started walking towards the harbor. As we passed sheriff’s home on a parallel road, which is a small road on which vehicles cannot be driven, there was a spot from which the ocean was visible clearly. It was beautiful specially with the full moon in the sky. I stopped for a second to see it, but mark had other plans. He had torch in his hand and was digging up something.

“What are you doing, we have to hurry up” I said

“There is a small hole dug near this tree. Here it is” he said removing the binoculars. It might be the spot from which jessie had seen Rachel.

Clearing the mud, we could see a ships front part, it was hidden behind a huge rock.

“Let’s go” I said. We ran until we reached the ship

“What the f**k are you doing with the girl?” I shouted from behind. There was fat guy who walked slowly towards us with gun in hand. The ship was named “Anna Marrie"

“What are you two doing here?” he asked pointing rifle against my chest. I have never had gun pointed at me, thanks to this girl i might die today,

“Jessica” I said.

“I don’t know who that is. Get the f**k away from this place” he said

“What about Rachel?” mark asked recalling jesses last words before collapsing.

“I don’t know her” he said

“I know how you took her and sold her” Mark took a shot in the dark.

“Who the f**k are you ? Cops? ” he seemed furious. Now he is talking,

“Yeah. that’s right i know everything about you” Mark said

“This is what you get for knowing” he said and fired a shot right in Marks left leg.

Two guys with guns jumped ahead and pointed shot guns at him. Mark was bleeding, i was just hoping that they were Alfonos’s guys.

“You let them go or you die” said one of them. he was the guy who poured whiskey for us.

“we have four guns, two on each side. Let’s take it easy” said a man behind us. The tone texture seemed familiar. As i turned back, i have had the most shocking vision in my life. It was sheriff Anthony.

“What the f**k are you guys doing here?” asked sheriff.

“Wait a second. are you harry?” I asked

“What do you mean parmesan? Harry is my middle name. My daughter calls me that due to her love towards dirty harry” He said.

“Now i get. You f*****g rat, you almost killed your daughter.” I shouted in frustration.

“What? I did not kill anyone. I did not kill my daughter. Where is she “ he claimed.

“What the f**k are you doing here?” I asked

“I was just talking walk”

“With a gun in your hand?” asked Mark

“Stop nagging ladies, i have some work to do.” said the fat b*****d.

“Sure, tell me where is jessie?” I asked

“Did he do something to jessie?” asked sheriff.

“I done s**t” he said.

“You gonna tell me now or take a bullet?” Sheriff asked

“Look I don’t know. We are partners, why the f**k would i do harm to your daughter “ he said.

“Partners in what?” I asked.

“Shut the f**k up f****t” shouted the fat b*****d.

“Let me guess, trade teenagers ?” I asked.

“Who the f**k are you” he asked the same question.

“Flesh Trade? “ sheriff asked surprisingly “I thought he only exported drugs over the sea”

Sheriff had moved forward towards the fat guy, he was so tiny against sheriff that he succumbed and gave him the gun. Sheriff had him at point blank, placing the gun right on the head he asked “Where is my daughter?”

“I don’t know” Sheriff pulled the trigger bruising his lower neck, it was blood all over our faces.

“All i know is that there was someone two nights back watching our building and when boys tried to grab them they absconded” He said.

“She must definitely be Jessie. She must have seen them dragging Rachel into this ship and also seen you meeting this guy” I said.

“Is my daughter okay?” he asked.

“Yes. She is currently in coma. thanks to you” I said

“I had no part in it” sheriff tried to play nice

“She wanted to confirm that you were involved in it, thats the reason why she rented binoculars. She must have seen you either being here with him or driving back to home when rachel was kidnapped. She started sitting in the position hoping to not see you come here. But you were here for some reason and her suspicions just got real. She started panicking and someone from this house had seen her snooping around and chased her through the woods. She had escaped them but feet got trapped in a tree root resulting in a fall on a stake that went right through her stomach. She did not believe you any more, she knocked the doors of the mayor and collapsed in blood at his door.” I said walking him through the incidents that might have happened. Sheriff had no words in awe that her daughter had thought he was a pimp.

“Mayor is the client? How did you know? “ Mark asked surprised.

“He told me while you had gone up at my home. He said he did not trust you with news. I don’t blame him considering your experience” said

“Me neither” he said.

Sheriff couldn’t believe that her li’ll daughter knew what he was. He pulled the trigger on the fat guy and pointed it onto his mouth. I rushed to stop him but he was well trained. “narrate it differently to her” these were his last words. There were 20 kids in the ship, bravery of one kid lead everyone back to their lives.