This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Dedicated to Charles M. Schulz, author of
Peanuts
comics. And yes, the author knows that the little red haired girl in
Peanuts
is named Heather.
Part 1 - Prologue
Tuesday, February 12th. Rain was falling steadily, adding gloom to the chill of the night. The wet streets glistened in the streetlamps as the Audi sedan drove up University Avenue, then turned left onto Jefferson Avenue.
"Why can't I get a dog?" said redheaded, ten-year-old Frieda Franklin, sitting in the back seat, looking out at the rain-swept streets.
"Because your grades aren't good enough." replied her mother acidly.
"They're all 'A's." said Frieda.
"They're not all '100's." her mother replied.
"So if I make all '100's, I can get a dog?" Frieda asked, hope surging in her voice.
"I didn't say
that
." her mother replied.
"Well, when
can
I get a dog?" Frieda asked.
"When I say so, and not before." said her mother, running out of reasons for saying 'no', and so just trying the direct 'bear down' approach."
"You're never going to let me get a dog, are you?" Frieda said, figuring it out and calling out her mother on it.
"Don't you backtalk me." said her mother sharply. "That's another reason you're not getting a dog. You're not minding your manners and your not minding your parents. Now don't say another word about it. Ever."
Frieda felt as bad as the weather outside, a tear running down her cheek as she looked out into the gloomy night. She didn't make friends in school very well; they teased her over her pure red hair color, and they hated her for being smart. She wanted a dog, someone who would be a friend to her, someone to play with and to love. But her mother hated dogs, and was fiercely determined to deny Frieda a canine companion.
"Why are we going this way?" her mother asked her father, partly to change the subject, and partly to let Frieda know she was not the object of conversation anymore.
"I want to ride by the warehouse." said Frieda's father. "I've been hearing some rumors that people are slacking off." As he drove by one of the industrial sites not far from Ward Harvester Park, he slowed down to look and see what was happening. He did not intend to stop with his family in the car.
Frieda was looking out the right side back window at another warehouse. As the car drove by, she saw what looked like a well-dressed man in a suit in the shadow of a door, talking to a shorter, very mean-looking man in workman's clothes and a toboggan cap, and an Asian woman in coveralls. When the well-dressed man turned and looked at the car, their eyes met, and stayed locked together for a long second until the car was well past the building...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I looked over at Cindy Ross, who was sitting next to me in one of the chairs along the wall in the private Chamber of the Town & County Council.
"You getting a vibe?" I whispered, seeing her face and introspective look.
"Yeah, a strong one." she replied. "Did you feel it?"
"Yeah, I sure did." I replied. "Any idea what it's about?"
"No." Cindy whispered. "But something just happened... something big." I nodded, feeling the same thing in my inner soul. But no time to worry about that now...
Part 2 - Commissioned Into Service
The 'Committee of the Whole' was meeting, and hearing Sheriff Griswold's plans for the Public Safety Department, which had been interrupted before by the destruction by fire of State Senator Katherine Woodburn's home. With me was the Police Chief, Fire Chief, Assistant Fire Chief, Deputy Police Chief, and the Fire Marshal.
The Council Members and some of the others in the room were absolutely stunned by what they were hearing from our duly-elected Sheriff. "You... you..." spluttered Kelly Carnes "... you want to
bring back the EMTs?