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Authors: Steven Bird
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out to take her hand, leading her into the room. “That’ll be all, for now, Fox,” he then said, while closing the door, leaving Leina alone with him in the room.
Walking over to an old antique record player, Chief Peronne lowered the volume and said, “I’m sorry. That was a bit loud. I love jazz. I just can’t get enough. There’s something about the controlled chaos of it all. Jazz music didn’t stay within the boundaries of what society had previously defined.”
Removing the cork from a bottle of wine, filling two glasses as he spoke, he continued, “The early jazz musicians did things their own way. They didn’t follow a traditional meter, beat, or formal structure. They improvised, doing what they had to do, moving the song along. I admire that,” he said as he seemed to get lost for a moment in the music with his eyes closed, swaying his head to the rhythm.
Turning to her and looking her over, he said, “Did you not like the dress?”
“Mrs.,” she said abruptly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s Mrs. Carson, not Miss,” she replied sharply.
As the sparkle faded slightly from his smile, Chief Peronne replied, “Oh, I’m sorry. You hadn’t mentioned a husband, only the children. I guess I thought you were single. My mistake.”
Pausing for a moment, Leina said, “My husband, Cas, was killed by a group that tried to rob us several months after the collapse began.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Peronne replied in a softened tone.
“Don’t be,” she said. “He went down swinging. He almost took out the entire mob before one of them stabbed him in the back while he fought off two others from the front. I’ve never seen a man fight so hard. I’ve never seen such absolute power and ferocity in a human being. Most women I know would remember that scene as a horrific tragedy. Me, I remember it as the moment I realized no man will ever be able to live up to him. He’s my forever—even though he’s no longer with us. His fight, his spirit, it’s what’s kept me going all this time.”
After an awkward pause, Chief Peronne replied, “I admire that. Let’s drink a toast to his memory,” he said as he handed her a glass of red wine.
“He’s not a memory,” Leina replied. “He’s a part of me.”
The smile quickly extinguishing from his face, he turned and sat her glass of wine on the elegantly carved bar by the fireplace and said, “So... I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“Where are the children?” she asked firmly.
“Oh, they are safe, and I want to ensure that they stay that way, which is why I have an offer for you.”
“You want to ensure they stay that way? What they hell does that mean?”
“Hey, relax,” he said. “I didn’t mean that in a negative or threatening way. I’m sorry if it sounded that way. I was referring to their long-term safety. I simply want to give you and the children a future that ensures your security and well-being.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job of ensuring their safety. Now where are they?” she insisted.
“Have you, now?” he responded in a condescending tone. “If my men hadn’t rescued you when they did...”
“Rescued,” she interrupted. “My memory is a little unclear, but the one thing I know deep in my heart is that your men didn’t rush in and save the day. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but if I don’t get to see the kids soon...”
“Miss Carson,” he interrupted in an attempt to redirect the tension that was rapidly building in the room.
“Mrs. Carson,” she again firmly replied.
“Of course, my mistake, Mrs. Carson,” he said, correcting himself. “I didn’t bring you here to get you all riled up and angry. The children will be returned to you this evening. Our officers are on a pretty tight schedule as we are spread thin with the extra patrols initiated by the security breach on the edge of town. I have several officers slated to escort them from the clinic at six
Walking over to an old antique record player, Chief Peronne lowered the volume and said, “I’m sorry. That was a bit loud. I love jazz. I just can’t get enough. There’s something about the controlled chaos of it all. Jazz music didn’t stay within the boundaries of what society had previously defined.”
Removing the cork from a bottle of wine, filling two glasses as he spoke, he continued, “The early jazz musicians did things their own way. They didn’t follow a traditional meter, beat, or formal structure. They improvised, doing what they had to do, moving the song along. I admire that,” he said as he seemed to get lost for a moment in the music with his eyes closed, swaying his head to the rhythm.
Turning to her and looking her over, he said, “Did you not like the dress?”
“Mrs.,” she said abruptly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s Mrs. Carson, not Miss,” she replied sharply.
As the sparkle faded slightly from his smile, Chief Peronne replied, “Oh, I’m sorry. You hadn’t mentioned a husband, only the children. I guess I thought you were single. My mistake.”
Pausing for a moment, Leina said, “My husband, Cas, was killed by a group that tried to rob us several months after the collapse began.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Peronne replied in a softened tone.
“Don’t be,” she said. “He went down swinging. He almost took out the entire mob before one of them stabbed him in the back while he fought off two others from the front. I’ve never seen a man fight so hard. I’ve never seen such absolute power and ferocity in a human being. Most women I know would remember that scene as a horrific tragedy. Me, I remember it as the moment I realized no man will ever be able to live up to him. He’s my forever—even though he’s no longer with us. His fight, his spirit, it’s what’s kept me going all this time.”
After an awkward pause, Chief Peronne replied, “I admire that. Let’s drink a toast to his memory,” he said as he handed her a glass of red wine.
“He’s not a memory,” Leina replied. “He’s a part of me.”
The smile quickly extinguishing from his face, he turned and sat her glass of wine on the elegantly carved bar by the fireplace and said, “So... I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“Where are the children?” she asked firmly.
“Oh, they are safe, and I want to ensure that they stay that way, which is why I have an offer for you.”
“You want to ensure they stay that way? What they hell does that mean?”
“Hey, relax,” he said. “I didn’t mean that in a negative or threatening way. I’m sorry if it sounded that way. I was referring to their long-term safety. I simply want to give you and the children a future that ensures your security and well-being.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job of ensuring their safety. Now where are they?” she insisted.
“Have you, now?” he responded in a condescending tone. “If my men hadn’t rescued you when they did...”
“Rescued,” she interrupted. “My memory is a little unclear, but the one thing I know deep in my heart is that your men didn’t rush in and save the day. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but if I don’t get to see the kids soon...”
“Miss Carson,” he interrupted in an attempt to redirect the tension that was rapidly building in the room.
“Mrs. Carson,” she again firmly replied.
“Of course, my mistake, Mrs. Carson,” he said, correcting himself. “I didn’t bring you here to get you all riled up and angry. The children will be returned to you this evening. Our officers are on a pretty tight schedule as we are spread thin with the extra patrols initiated by the security breach on the edge of town. I have several officers slated to escort them from the clinic at six
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