Fae Land

The Blind Leading The Blind

Two loud fist knocks. Bam. Bam. The man was pounding on Lela's door with authority that matched the clomping boots he wore and the smell of gun oil put Lela on edge. All night, the police outside in the hallway and in her neighbor's apartment talked loudly, nor did they try to keep any noise down. She knew it was only a matter of time before they came to her door again, but she still jumped from the knock. She shook her hands out to try to release the stress that had built in her shoulders.

"Yes, Officer? How can I be of assistance?" Lela asked. She tried to Americanize her accent as much as possible to help put him at ease, but she couldn't help it. Sometimes her Kenyan accent would slip out and with it, comes assumptions. The ruckus in the hall was overpowering, but she concentrated on listening for the voice of the one closest to her, the one that smelled strongest of gun oil.

"Yes, ma'am. Chicago Police Department. My name is Officer Jackson. We are here doing routine questions and follow up regarding your neighbor..." He paused. Lela presumed to look at his notes. "...a Alicia Styles of Apt B."

"I already gave a statement?" She responded.

"I just have a few follow up questions from your statement you gave earlier." He countered.  She could hear the concern in his voice. He was stressed. His nerves were tight which was causing his voice to be a touch higher than when he first arrived all those hours ago.  

Did he even go home, she wondered.

"Sure. Come in." She swung open the door to allow the officer to enter. She heard him hesitate as she turned to go into the kitchen. Since the apartment was an open floor plan, she could speak to him and ready some tea. "Tea?"

"Umm. Sure." Lela heard the confusion in his voice. He was probably taking in the sparseness of her apartment. "Did you just move in?" She didn't even have a couch.  She had bar stools next to the breakfast nook, but really nothing else in the living room area. She didn't spend much time there anyway.  Most of her time was either in the kitchen cooking or on her bed. She lived alone so she saw no purpose to having a couch or even a dining room table.  

"No sir." She responded. Her lips curled up. It was her favorite game. How long before he figures it out? One minute? Longer? Sometimes those that think they are perceptive, aren't and she was good at this game. It was essential when you lived downtown between two gang territories. What is it that Alicia told her when she first moved it? Oh, ya... Never reveal a weakness if you can help it.

"Your place is pretty empty. How long have you lived here?" He asked. His speech was slow and she could hear him looking around when his voice was no longer aimed at her.

Lela filled the tea kettle with fresh spring water and turned the burner to high. "About five years, I guess."

"Oh, so pretty long. Did you know your neighbor long too?"

Ah. The sidestep. She kept her back to him and grabbed two teacups which she placed on the breakfast nook counter that separated the kitchen and the living space. She turned back and grab some agave which she placed next to the teacups in case he wanted to sweeten his tea. On the counter, she grabbed a fruit from the basket near the teacups. She brought it to her nose and smelled. Lemony citrus filled her with peace. She smiled and rolled the lemon. "Alicia was the first person to welcome me here. She is one of my closest friends, which is why I was concerned and called the police station last night for the fourth time."

Lela heard him flip pages in his notepad. "Ah yes. I have that here as well. Says you may have been the one to speak to her last? When was that?" He asked.