Page 23 of Stone Blind

“No matter where we go in life, it always comes full circle,” Helen said, taking a pause. “Whether we work at Summer camps for the church or alongside lifelong friends, at the end of the day, it becomes about the kids. I’m here to learn to make this world a better place for the kids even though I shall bear none of my own. That right was taken from me. Faith has brought me this far, and faith will lead me on, at least that’s what I was taught that brief summer in Vacation Bible School when my mother couldn’t afford childcare. We all learn from each other in some form. I am here to learn. I want to learn, Mr. Yield. Teach me your technical skill.”

Yield’s entire body language changed. She knew who he was. Slow had shared information with her, and she had repeated it back to him in a way that let him know the little berry knew more than she let on. Ricky didn’t get it.

Ricky asked, “Cranberry, you worked at a summer camp with kids at a church?”

Yield turned in the seat, using his better eye to spot Ricky, “No, I did. My father ran one where me and a few of my friends worked each summer until we went off to college, and even after that, we came back to the camp.”

Helen offered a soft smile at the corner of her lips and said, “You guys must have been some hellified camp counselors; all things considered.”

Ricky was at a loss. “What things? What things considered?”

Apple held up his hand to his friend, “The Southeast Crew of the Directions. All of them worked at the camp for kids in the summers.”

“Holy shit,” Ricky gulped.

“Teach me,” Helen said.

“No, not my thing,” Yield replied.

“Must you make me pull rank?” Helen asked.

Yield offered half a smile and asked, “And what rank do you have to pull, Ms. Tart Berry that no one likes unless they have a urinary tract infection?”

She arched an eyebrow and took out her phone. She pressed a button, and a voice on the other end answered. Softly, she spoke. “This is the Cranberry. We have a situation and Yield has been called in to take over the task. The Bad Apple is attaching me to a traffic sign, but the wind is strong and the sign won’t bend. It is telling me it will not yield to complete this portion of my training. Can the request be escalated?”

Helen listened and nodded her head. She ended the call, poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. The moment she took a seat, Yield’s phone rang. She maintained direct eye contact with his good eye as he took the call.

“Yield,” he said into the line. “Yep. Yep. Oh, really. Hmph. Fine, but I won’t like it. Whatever.”

Then he ended the call. His good eye squinted at her while the bad eye tried to focus on what he assumed was a smug look on Helen’s cute little face, but she didn’t have one.

“What’s your game, Cranberry?” Yield asked, feeling distrustful of her making the call to his handler. He also wasn’t certain how she knew The Archangel.

“No game,” she said. “I know things, but I don’t understand what to do with what I know. I was sent here to learn so I can become the best form of whatever shape I’m to take in this evolution of my journey. I am, in academic speak, a tabula rasa, for you to shape, mold, and teach the ideal habits of whatever it is that you do so well. I gather, since I have learned to assume nothing with you people, that for this man to call you in, to take me away from his protection, to be alone with you, that you are the biggest, baddest, and fiercest wolf in the forest, so he chose the best. You’ve earned that respect from him. Do the job. Bring me back. We part as colleagues.”

The tabula rasa was a very academic term, and she had somehow garnered he had been, and still was, in his heart, an academician. He didn’t like the icky feeling she gave off, knowing so much about him when he knew nothing about her.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how I will feel being on the road with a woman I don’t know,” Yield said, scowling even more at how she carefully and prettily pulled together the right words to soothe his ruffled feathers.

Ricky stepped forward. “She’s got a man. Whoever he is, she’s not interested in whatever you have to say or offer.”

Yield looked at her and asked, “Is this man of yours going to be an issue?”

“Only if you make him whinny,” she replied, cocking her head.

Yield sat up tall in the seat. He looked at Helen with a fresh eye. She was interesting. Now, he wanted to know more.

“Pack light for three nights, which is the max I do on a trail. The leads are more than likely cold, but we will find what we find,” he said. “Hurry up and don’t make me wait.”

Helen was on her feet and moving. Ricky came to sit at the table. He had all kinds of questions. “What did she mean by ‘the whinny’? Who is that?”

“You don’t want to know. Hell, I don’t want to know, but now I do,” he said. “Shit, how did you end up with this one?”

“She’s the replacement for The Cherry on Top,” Apple said.

“No shit!” Yield replied. “Well, this is just fucking dandy. Apple, when I find what you need and bring her back, don’t call me anymore. Ever.”

Helen returned with a backpack, three knives, and a 9mm, in which she seated a round in the chamber. She did it all without breaking eye contact with Yield. A second later, she grabbed two bottles of water and a couple of pieces of fruit, tossing one to him. “Let’s do it!”

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