Borderline [On hold for major revision]

Chapter 3: Something Weird

Chapter 3

Beep!...Beep!...Beep beep beep beep...

I groaned and sat up in bed, blindly reaching for my cell phone while I rubbed my eyes. I hated waking up to the annoying ringtone, but more often than not someone called me to work before my regular alarm had a chance to wake me up.

Beepbeep beepbeep...

That became more annoying each time I heard it. When I first bought my phone, Terra stole it and gave me a ringtone like a bomb timer on some action movie, the high-pitched beeps speeding up the longer I took to answer. I've wanted to change it for a year now, but she put some kind of techno-lock on it so I can't. It's probably not hard to get past, but I'm just not good with electronics. I never even owned a phone until I got back from college. Now it's a necessary part of my life.

Beepbeepbeepbeep...

Finally, my hand found it on the nightstand and I looked at the caller ID. I didn't recognize the specific number, but it came from the CBP station, so I answered.

"Hello?" I said, wincing at how loud in sounded in the quiet of the house.

"Hi, Cal, it's Sierra," a voice chirped brightly.

I didn't respond. I had no idea who that was, and my mama always told me not to talk to strangers.

"Sierra Rivera.” A pause. “Mr. Rogers' assistant…" she continued, more deflated now.

I was able to match a face with the name. Short and super thin with extremely long brown hair. I'd gone out with her a couple times last year. She seemed to like me, but it had never developed into anything.

"Right, sorry," I responded. "My brain’s still a little cloudy."

"No problem, I understand."

I waited, but she didn't say anything else. "Is there something particular you need, Sierra?"

She giggled. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Silly me. Mr. Rogers said that he's moving the meeting up to nine this morning. He said he as to be somewhere this afternoon and has to move it forward."

I quickly held the phone away from my face to read the time. It wasn't even seven yet. "Alright, let him know I'll be there."

"Okee dokee. Say," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, "did you hear about Ramona’s sister? She—”

“Goodbye, Sierra.” I hung up, haunted by past conversations I was suddenly recalling where she spent hours gossiping about coworkers. I groaned and managed to drag myself out of bed. No use trying to sleep again if I had to leave in an hour anyway.

When I was showered and changed, I went to the kitchen to find my ranch hand, Daniel Santos, sitting at the table reading a newspaper. He was usually tending to the horses when I woke up, so I wondered what was keeping him.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

He jumped a little and looked up from his newspaper. "Geez, don't scare me like that, señor!"

I laughed and grabbed a banana from my pantry. "Getting a late start today?"

"It's raining, and it's got the horses in a depressed mood. They just want to be left alone today."

This would sound extremely weird coming from someone else, but it was natural coming from Daniel. He's always claimed that he can understand horses, and seeing the way they worked together it often appeared to be true. While I've learned to trust my instincts in the field, I've also learned to trust his "conversations" with the horses at home.