Carved Read online

  Three

  Work

  Kendra

  While I sleep, my back pushes up to the front of David. His hard muscular body is warm and he pulls me close to wrap his arms around me. I love his rugged physical strength. He’s an Army veteran, and working in the parks with me, he stays fit. He’s built like a brick house. He shifts as I pull his hand to my chest. I’m filled with joy; sighing, I hold his hand.

  Wait, it’s slowly melting—no, dissolving! Oh my god! No! My heart speeds up. I’m afraid, horrified when little grains of his arm pour over me like sand. What the hell? I panic and turn toward him, and his whole-body melts into a pile of dirt!

  Screaming, rolling over and pushing up with my arms, I jump away from my imagined pile of nightmare. I shiver in the cool morning air, mostly from the terrifying dream. Oh yeah, I’m still in the cemetery. Oh, I cried myself to sleep on Dave's resting place. How could I even do that?

  “Kendra,” I say to myself, “28 is too old for teenager stunts. Well, first time for everything. At least David wasn't alone on his first night here.” Smiling, I’m glad I was with him.

  Warm sun rays beam on me and heat my arms and face. I shift toward the sun. I’m going to have this moment with David. No, not David anymore. My memory of him. I sigh, taking in the full realization he’s gone. I have more peace than I’ve had all week. I accept I’m still here, and I’m going to live. I’ll have to adjust to a life that’s way different than what we’d planned for the last seven years. I’ll manage. I’m going to be okay, and it's going to be nice today.

  I search the ground for my keys. The cemetery workers left some heavy footprints all around the fresh grave. The ground around this area is a mess. How did I miss this yesterday? Well, I wasn’t looking—that’s why. I'll call to let them know later, so it can be fixed. I’m happy, however, that they put the nicest sod down. It just needs to be leveled up some. I roll up my dirty comforter to carry it back to Jasper.

  There’s my keys sitting in the hand of one of the little imps on top of David’s headstone. I must have been out of it to have left them there! Walking over the soft ground, I reach over and pick them up. On impulse, I rub my hand over the smooth black granite of the gargoyle then tap its beak-like nose with my finger, saying, "Catch ya later, cute stuff. You keep guard on this man for me, will ya, huh?"

  I better hurry. I need to be dressed and ready in an hour.

  My boss was so good to let me off this week. David and I had never gotten around to ‘officially’ tying the knot. Since there’s no funeral leave for significant others in the National Park Service, it was a relief to get the extra time off. Now, though, I have to get back to work.

  I love my job with the National Park Service. I’m not prepared to lose it. I have more than a little pride in my position as the only women ranger for the famous Cueva Hallow Caverns. I don't want to give it up. It’s a position where I believe I’m helping people in a meaningful way.

  I'm not even sure how I got to work so fast. The trip from Cueva Hallow to the Caverns is about an hour drive. The drive here shot by, and here I am at work - a little bit early even. I need coffee.

  Okay. “Be brave,” I tell myself. I’m going in here with a positive mental attitude,” as Dave would say. I’m going to be nice, but I don't need pity. God, help me control my temper if everyone pities me.

  I make it all the way to the locker room then to my desk without seeing anyone. Not unusual. We only have five employees who are in the office during working hours. The rest of us patrol, like me, or work up at the Caverns. The Caverns have hundreds of workers. We’re spread thin for park rangers though.

  After I’m on the road for a while, I hear my radio blare. “Lima 26 we have a 10-15, in one of the campsites in Washburn Canyon.” Great! 10-15—a civil disturbance.

  I turn my patrol SUV around and start for the dirt road I’ve traveled many times to scout out the situation. I’m already halfway there. Pushing the button for the mic on my radio, I respond, "Lima 26, 10-4. Acknowledge and in route."

  It would be so nice to use the Bluetooth connection between my phone and the SUV to communicate. But there isn't any signal this far out in the boonies. If I ever need backup, I can't depend on having cell signal out here. So, we must use the radios. I also know my radio has never let me down. The radio is my friend!

  After a few miles of rugged dirt road, I pull up to the possible campsite. It looks as if a party was in full swing. Several young people jerk their heads my direction. They must be waiting for the law. Lots of trash is lying around: empty cans, bottles, and food packages.

  Maybe it just got out of hand. These young people are swaying on their feet—all but a few, that is. Two young men, one wearing a ball cap, have another man down on the ground. They’re sitting on his back. The guy on the bottom of the dogpile is trying to fight the other two off, he’s getting nowhere.

  I decide to look at the auras around this group, just to be safe. It’s a private thing—only my brothers know I do this. It’s a gift that I have to choose to use, like turning on a switch, then I listen to my inner voice. My inner voice tells me what the colors mean. The colors give me a vague idea about the character of the person I’m looking at.

  A blond lady in her mid-twenties runs up, talking a mile a minute. She has a pink aura with some gray. She’s safe. Mostly this crowd is pastel colors; some have a pale sick-gray too. My guess is, they’ve had too much alcohol. I keep a safe distance as I listen to her. Uh oh, I blinked and my aura switch turned off. No problem, I think, as I pay more attention to her rambling. “My name is Julie.” Nervous, she blurts out, “The goober on the ground and his girlfriend were bad drunk. They were cussing and being really, really hateful. Then, that guy in the ball-cap…umm”

  Somebody interrupted her and yelled, “His name is Ray!”

  Julie swiped her hair out of her eyes, chuffing, and continues, “… Said something that made them mad. Then Goober started threatening us. He came over and took a swing at Ballcap Ray. He dodged and that made Goober even madder. That’s when he started digging that,” she points to a large knife lying on the ground, “6 inch Buck knife out of his pants pocket. Ballcap Ray and that other guy got him on the ground. That’s when we called you guys.”

  I shake my head, that was as clear as mud. I tap the button on my shoulder mic, "This is Lima 26, I have a 10-10, fight in progress, and need a 10-78, Officer needs assistance, 10-26 rush, detaining subject now.

  "Ma'am, I need you, all of you, I raise my voice so the party of 11 can all hear me, “to stand right by this tent, where I can see you." I motion toward the tent.

  Now, to get to business. Breathing deeply, I unlatch my pistol holster and approach the men. I shout, "Calm down. My name is Officer Macbard. I want you to remain on the ground with your hands on your head. You two can get off your friend now. Right now!”

  They move off Goober, and I grab his hands and cuff him. He’s only wearing a pair of worn, dirty jeans, I grimace, checking them for other weapons or drug paraphernalia. He’s clean. You can get up now."

  He gets up, stumbling. The smell of alcohol is strong. He reeks! I walk him over to my SUV, helping him into the back seat. Closing the door, I hope he doesn’t ralph in there. His aura is fucking nasty, lots of black and muddy red! I bet he has blood on his hands.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blur of movement coming straight for me. A screechy voice yells, "Leave my boyfriend alone, you fucking pig!"

  I dodge and squat on my knees, at the same time pulling my ASP—a collapsible baton. I strike out hard, hitting her wrist—the one holding a crowbar and coming straight for my head. I’m quick; lots of drilling make it possible. Thank goodness for leg training!

  Crack. The crunch of bone is sickening as she screams and collapses, cradling her wrist. I broke it. She’s whimpering and whining: she’s going to sue. Go figure. I’m not happy with her. Kicking the crowbar, which I can now consider a lethal weapon, out of her reach, I cuff he
r, then sit her up with her legs straight out in front of her. My weapon in hand, I aim at her, waiting for my backup to arrive. I’m furious but call the EMT’s for her.

  There they are now, running up to us—good. I recognize Officer Gonzales. “Officer Macbard, you have everything under control?”

  “I do. You ready to clean up and haul the perps to town?”

  “Sure,” he says.

  We gather the crowbar and the Buck knife for evidence, administer breathalyzers to Goober and Harpy, then log the video evidence. Officer Gonzales loads up both subjects in his patrol car. He tells me, "Macbard, is this everything? Do you need anything else?"

  "I think we got it all, including their statements, Jerry," I answer, still excited by the fight. “Did the EMT’s say if the girl’s wrist is okay? Do you know?”

  “Yep, they said it is. She’s happy now—they gave her pain meds.”

  “They’re supposed to be hiring more officers so we aren't spread so thin. This could have gotten dangerous," I tell him.

  "I agree. You did a good job. Are you sure you’re okay?" he responds.

  "Yeah, I'm good."

  He turns nodding and leaves, while I stay. I need to talk to the remaining campers. They’ve all calmed down and are opening up some. "I have to warn y’all that alcohol is prohibited in the federal park. Since I haven't seen any, I can't cite you, so consider yourselves warned. Have you had any other problems besides the two who just left with Officer Gonzales?" I asked.

  They all hang their heads, not making eye contact, and then shake their heads no.

  Ballcap Ray speaks up, saying, "You know, Officer, we did see some bones up the canyon to the north, just in case you need to know. We think it is a big deer or something."

  "Would you mind taking me to the place you saw it?" I asked him.

  We come across the carcass about twenty minutes later. Hiking up the canyon was a good way for me to get my adrenaline under control. My job is such a rush!

  "Thank you for showing me. You can go back to your friends now. I can handle it from here," I tell Ballcap Ray. Before we left, his friends were teasing him by calling him Ballcap Ray. He’s a good sport; he smiles at me, pivots with a wave, and is gone.

  I walk around the dead body of an animal I can’t identify. I hate to say it, but I think it looks like a dinosaur. I take several pictures of it, and a few more of the surrounding landscape. I write down the coordinates and head back to my patrol. I'll notify Wildlife when I get back to the Ranger’s Station to write out my shift report.

  When I get back to my SUV, I notice the campers are quiet. They wave to me as I start the engine and pull away. I must have startled a few mule deer; as they take off running, I observe a little cave opening on the side of the rocky hill. I can see some glimmers and wonder what could make those? I might come back with some caving gear to see what I can discover in there on my next days off.

  Right now, I've got to get back to the office and log my report.

  I walk into the offices at the Ranger’s Station. I stop and talk to Chis, the dispatcher who sent me to the campsite earlier. She’s older, with a cheery disposition. Her shoulder-length auburn hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She says she’s 55 years old but looks like she could be late 30's, tops.

  "Kendra,” her gentle voice begins, “firstly, I want to tell you how sorry I am about David. I keep my face blank to be nice, but I’m ignoring that statement. If there’s anything you need, just let me know. I want to help.

  “Secondly, we’re getting some new guys tomorrow. The boss said to set you up with a partner until his probationary period is over. Would you like to see the candidate files? I can let you pick since you’re here first, and no one’ll know but us chickens," she giggles.

  "Well, Chris,” I tell her, “let me look over these files." I say as I head over to my desk. “I'll see you before I leave."

  I sit down at my desk, and call Wildlife before I forget.

  Darnell Johnson answers in his too-loud voice, "Wildlife! Whatcha got Kendra?" I proceed to tell him what I found, adding the report number so he can access the photos I’m uploading into our network as we speak.

  "Darnell, when you see this thing, you’ll probably know what it is instantly. I, however, am in the air! Will you please give me a call and tell me what the hell it is when you find it?"

  "Why, certainly, little lady. Give me a few days and I'll get back with you. And Kendra, he pauses, I just want you to know how sorry I am about David. If there is anything I can do just let me know," he says softly.

  "Thanks. It means a lot, Darnell. I'll talk to you later." I’m glad I don’t have to be around lots of people. If I have to hear, ‘sorry for your loss,’ too many more times, I’ll go fucking nuts!

  Now, on to the new personnel files. Mica Jacobs is my choice. He's the biggest one of the bunch, and after tonight, I want all the muscle I can get. Which, from his picture, he’s got muscles on his muscles. He has an excellent record and is moving to the area, so I might have a partner for a while.

  Not too many people are staying in this area. We’re located in the dead middle of nowhere. Families want more choices for schooling their children and a bigger city has more of, well, everything. I can understand. I've thought of moving before, but this is home. I like the sparse population. My family and friends are here too.

  I’m wiped out. I stop to see Chris on my way out. “Chris, if it’s possible, I’d like to be scheduled to work with Mica Jacobs.”

  "Done deal, hun! Hey, did you hear yet? Those two you arrested in Washburn Canyon are wanted felons!"

  "I've been busy—give me the cheese."

  "They are part of the Jessup cartel. Gun trafficking, drugs, money laundering, sex slave trafficking. You name it—they’re charged with the whole shootin' shebang. You may have inadvertently brought down part of the cartel!" she crows.

  "That's great Chris. Do you think it will help a lot of people?"

  "You better believe it, honey."

  "Goodbye, I'll see you in the morning. Have a great night."

  I stop at the Tastee Drive so I can get fast food on the way home. No way am I cooking for just me. Even after today’s excitement, I’m not hungry anyway. As I order, thoughts of the arrest, of its implications, of David, start to overwhelm me. I don't want to eat here, alone. I get my food and head home.

  I’m met by Brian, my doorman, as I open the apartment’s front door. He holds the door for me and asks, “May I carry anything for you, Miss Kendra?”

  “I have it all under control, but thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As soon as I open the door to my apartment, I feel a coldness. It’s empty in here. I want to shout, “I'm home,” out of habit. Taking a breath I put my food on the bar in the kitchen.

  In the bedroom I get out of my uniform and head to the shower. I need to decompress and think about what happened today. The shower is wonderfully hot. Dave used to tease me about how hot they were, “Your skin must be made of iron—you could peel pigs in there,” he would tell me.

  I want to stay in here for a long time.

  Much better. I grab a towel, wrapping it around my body. I grab another, wrapping it around my hair.

  I have a brilliant idea. I’m going to put on my pajamas, then go to the roof to eat my burrito. Putting on my favorite pj’s, I brush out my dark hair so it can air dry. I fill my thermal cup with ice water, grab my burrito, then head to the roof.

  I haven't been up here in a while. It’s a rooftop stone paradise, my own mini piece of Paris—or the Vatican, maybe. A hot tub for eight sits in one corner under a beautiful stone awning. I understand it’s made of fiberglass, though. The hot tub is the only thing that looks like it came from this century. Yet it still fits, because of the artistic way the decorator added Victorian sculpture and greenery around it. The seating area is cement and has pale green padding.

  There’s art all over the place. We have a few donations from the local artists.
Most of the rest, are stunning statues, original to the building. Gargoyles of every shape. They are mostly gray, blueish gray, and green. But one is a reddish color; I think it’s one of the old ones. It looks like red marble. He’s a huge bat demon with pointed ears and teeth. If the artist had a man sit for the sculpture, he had to be gorgeous! I'm sitting by him, and I smile to myself.

  Some of our friends didn't like to come up here, saying the statues were evil and they didn't want to be around them. The reality is they’re not demons they’re the grotesques we call gargoyles. I choose to think they protect us! They’re magnificent. Their beauty isn’t easy to describe. I’m at ease, and at home around them.

  I finish my dinner and wander around the garden. I run my hands over many of the statues, talking about my day to them.

  I go back to the red one and sit close, leaning on its legs, and let the tears fall. “I thought I was finished with this last night,” I tell my big red stone friend. “I guess I'm just a big baby. Help me get over this, will you?”

  I laugh at myself, getting up to go inside. I’m ready to crash. I state to the gargoyle, good night. When I get to the door, I turn around and say to the garden, like it could hear me, "Thank you for listening and not judging. Goodnight all."

  Four

  Trouble

  Kino

  I creep into Kendra’s bedroom, singing a little spell under my breath so she sleeps better. Her sigh gives me tingles. She has her uniform sitting on a chair with work boots under it, ready for her work day tomorrow. Reaching over to touch her on the shoulder, I run my hand across it gently, telling her, "Sleep well, little one. We are guarding so you can rest."

  The hallway to the roof is nice, the carpet is soft. I push through the heavy door, Amber and Mason sit together in the cool evening air. "How are things going? Any trouble?" I ask.

  "No, not trouble. We want to report, ya big boulder,” Amber quips, knowing Kino’s anything but a boulder. His good looks are part of his reputation.