Page 26 of Stone Blind

“Rochelle is a cool name. I always wanted a name like Rochelle or a cool, kick ass name like Rasheeda, but my mom named me Shenita as if her aspirations for me reached only a stripper pole,” Helen said, giving the woman a bit of truth followed by a small lie. “Shenita Brown, how’s that for a messed-up start? I got lucky when I married and got a nearly asanonymous last name. The last name makes all the difference. I am Shenita Johnson now.”

Yield arched his eyebrow at her using his given last name, but it worked. The woman laughed again, giving Helen everything she needed.

“Rochelle Henderson, and my Ma wants me to be a nurse. I’m working on my CNA right now, getting in some practice on the weekend, working for the store owner, but, yeah, with some of the shit I see, I may end up becoming a librarian or something, Nursing is not for the weak at heart,” Rochelle said.

“There are times in life when you are given an opportunity to run and get clear; the smart person understands timing, Rochelle. Thanks for chatting with me,” Helen said. “I know he gets tired of hearing my mouth. Baby, you ready to roll?”

“Rolling,” Yield called back, grabbing two cases of water. Helen grabbed the peaches and jar of pickles, giving the woman a slight salute and meeting him at the truck.

He added the water to the floor of the back seat. Helen did the same on the other side with the pickles and peaches. In the front seat, Yield seated himself behind the wheel, and Helen leaned over to him.

“Provide me a peck on the cheek,” she whispered, and he complied, giving her a smile.

Satisfied, Helen gently rubbed his arm, giving off a false laugh, and she tossed her hair back as if he’d said the funniest thing in the world. Rochelle was watching them. From the side mirror of the truck, Yield could see her in the store window as he pulled away from the curb.

“Well, look at you,” he said, not wanting to sound too impressed with the Cranberry, but he was. “Why the peaches and pickles?”

“Both of those jars are over nine bucks,” she said. “In that neighborhood, who do you see coming in to buy those products?She gave us everything we needed to know. The new Field of Flowers is near Wabash, at least one of them. The owner mainly throws his parties on the weekends, and she is the patch up girl who comes in to doctor on the toys when the boys get too rough and pulls off Barbie’s arm.”

“Horrible imagery, but I got you,” he said. “So, what do you think we should do next?”

“Hit the former warehouse where the raid happened where Kendrick—that’s the boy Apple is nursing—escaped from so we can understand the setup,” she said. “The setup will determine the space requirements for the new place, windows, lighting, ventilation, kind of thing. Hopefully, it will narrow the types of building we’re looking for...you know to save time. Maybe we can close this up in less than three days.”

“Tired of my dashing personality and company already?”

“Who said you had a personality, Mr. Yield?” Helen replied, laughing. “Let’s get it done quickly and close the file.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, heading towards the warehouse.

SHE ALMOST REGRETTEDwalking into the place. A loose board over a back door would become the entry point. Yield, erring on the side of caution, took a weapon to enter the building. He too, regretted going inside, praying the images of the set up wouldn’t haunt him for the rest of his nights.

“This is...just,” he said, sighing.

The power for the building hadn’t been disconnected, which in this instance, proved helpful to illuminate the mind of a person who thought this to be an ideal playground for the weird and demented. An area, which looked like a romper room, held tons of toys for children. There were monkey bars, swing seats, and a climbing apparatus. To her surprise, there were tiny treadmills and entirely too many stuffed animals.

However, the runway and stage made Helen’s stomach turn. She didn’t speak on the silent understanding when she saw the recliners seated on the side of the runway. Instead, she took note of the two sides of the warehouse. One side was a sleeping area for the children.

Rows of bunk beds with very basic bedding in bright colors adorned the sleeping space. She admitted her shock to Yield when they entered the next room that was set up as a classroom. Cords hung on empty desks where the kids could have used computers for classwork. A chalkboard in the class's front stood silent with faint traces of chalk scribbles on conjugating verbs.

The next two rooms were bathrooms, one for the boys and the other for girls, both with stalls. A shiver ran down Helen’s back as she thought of the other side of the warehouse. Yield was looking at her, and she blinked twice.

“If this is where they lived and learned, the other side of the warehouse is where they went to work,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to see it, but we need to know what kind of mind we’re dealing with. Who would conjure some fucked up shit like this?”

“You and I are thinking alike, Cranberry. I don’t want to see it, but we need to know,” he said, leaving the boys’ latrine to head to the other side of the building.

Again, they both wished they hadn’t come into the warehouse. The other side of the warehouse was divided into mini bedroom suites. They only looked at two of the rooms; the second one had plastic sheets on the bed and a hose for rinsing down the residuals, and Helen had seen enough.

“Kitchen,” she said, turning away. “We need to see storage, food prep, and what was left behind.”

Yield didn’t argue, but went along to observe how she would take the information gained from Tana to establish their next course of action. He found himself impressed once more withHelen’s thought process, but her next moves would be a lesson in understanding.

“This is pretty much what I expected,” she told him. “Lots of leafy greens and foods rich in iron. Lots of protein but look here. Someone has been back to clear off the shelves. I doubt cops would be in here taking this food, but we are.”

“You’re taking the food?”

“These canned goods can be used by Apple to feed the boys,” she said, grabbing armloads of goods. Helen spotted a box and added other items from the pantry to it, including rice, oats, and jars of peanut butter.

“Cranberry, this is a crime scene. We can’t take from a crime scene.’

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