Her Eyes

Chapter 1: FATE

It was late. They had been driving around "patrolling" for hours—when in reality the woman who had requested their protection was only an old woman losing her mind with age, regardless they still went on a lookout. After all it was their job.

There was a silence among the two men. They weren't exactly friends, but they didn't exactly hate each other either. The radio played in the background, picking up static as they passed into the outskirts of town. As they drove down highway 84, Alex spotted a light in the distance.

"I thought they shut the Seafairer down," the deputy asked.

"They did," Alex mumbled. He pulled up to the motel and killed the engine. "I gotta pee." He got out of the car grabbing a flashlight on the way out. He shined the light on an old 1970s Mercedes. It had been loaded up with rolls of musty old carpet.

As they stepped onto the motel porch, a woman appeared. Her hair looked as if it had been pulled back with haste, her eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. She was nervous and Alex knew it. "Good evening, gentlemen," she greeted. "I was going to tell you that we're not open yet, but you don't seem to be looking for a room. I'm Norma Bates." She smiled awkwardly.

"No, ma'am. We're not looking for a room. I'm Deputy Zack Shelby, this is Sheriff Alex Romero." Zack spoke before Alex could open his mouth. This was something he always did—especially around beautiful women.

"We just wanted to check and make sure everything was all right," Alex spoke up.

"That's sweet," she smiled. "We're fine. My son and I are just pulling up some old carpet that needs replacing."

"You have a son?" Alex asked, studying her brief movements.

"Yeah, my son Norman. He's seventeen." She widened her grin at the thought of her boy.

"It's almost two in the morning. Doesn't your son have school tomorrow?" Alex questioned her further.

She feigned surprise. "I didn't know it was that late. I'm gonna go close up shop." She lifted her arm, awkwardly reaching behind to rub her neck, all the while keeping her gaze on Shelby.

"What happened to your hand?" Alex asked.

She broke her gaze, desperately looking at her wrapped hand for an answer. "I scratched it," she swallowed hard recalling the real reason she applied care to it, "cutting carpet. It's just a knick." She waited awkwardly for Alex to reply. With none, she gave her attention back to Zack. "It was nice to meet you," she flirted.

This always happened. Alex had to be the intimidating cop, while Zack got to be the charming cop. Women always fell for Zack. It was an epidemic. Alex knew this woman was hiding something and flirting with the deputy was just a way to cover it up.

Norma turned to walk back to the room she came from, hoping that the men would receive her hint for them to leave the premises.

"Mrs. Bates," Alex stopped her before she got too far.

"Yes, Sheriff," she replied, trying to disguise the annoyance in her voice.

"You wouldn't mind if we took a look around, would you?" he asked, hoping to catch a glimpse of panic.

"Not at all," she stated slyly, her hand directing the way to room 5. Alex foreseeing her guise opened the door to room 4.

A flustered Norman rose from the floor. "Evening," he greeted anxiously.

Norma rushed to her son's aid. "Norman, this is Sheriff Romero and Deputy Shelby. They saw the lights on and came to check on us."

The boy fumbled around looking for words. "Oh everything's good here." He looked to his mother for reassurance.

Norma spoke swiftly, picking up the pieces for her son. "Sheriff Romero wanted to see what we're doing. I guess you're interested in design," she mocked him vaguely.

Alex examined the floor, looking for a legitimate reason to be tearing up carpet this late. "If you want to put it that way," he shot back.

Norma laughed tauntingly. "Nothing bored my late husband more." This woman sure was something—using the subject of her husband's death to advertise her singlehood.

"You're a widow." And Shelby bought right into her little game.

"Six months. We're trying to get used to it," she replied.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Romero asked, ending the flirtatious exchange.

"It's broken," Norma answered quickly. Panic stiffened every muscle of her face.

Alex looked at her disbelievingly. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's not flushing." This woman was quick on her feet.

"All these toilets do that. You gotta jiggle the chain. I'll take a look at it." He left the room before she could protest. As he opened the door to the bathroom an odd smell hit his face. He could almost swear it was Keith Summer's cologne, but the smell had probably accumulated over the years that Summer's owned the motel. Not that he ever took care of it.

Romero emptied his bladder, putting his attention to the holes in the wall that needed patching. He felt something eerie about it all. The foreclosure, the Bates...the bathroom. Something had happened and he would figure out what, even if it killed him in the end.

He jiggled the chain and opened the bathroom door only to find himself being observed like an unknown specimen. "You just gotta jiggle it," he stated awkwardly. He nodded at Shelby that it was time to leave. As he walked out, he studied Norma one last time. "Get that boy to bed," he uttered before leaving completely.

The two men got back in the car and drove off. The radio buzzing and fizzling again. "That was some woman," Zack stated, his voice breaking the silence among them.

Alex glanced over at him seemingly indifferent then put his eyes back on the road. There was something about that woman. Something in her eyes. Some odd connection, a sharp pain that dug its way into Alex's life. It was like it was fate—that they didn't just meet perchance. Alex would see this woman again, but he didn't know why or how. He spent the rest of the night trying to convince himself that this encounter meant nothing—that there was no cosmic force drawing him to this woman...after all, he really did have to pee.