Page 11 of Coming In Hot
In Egyptian culture, gold and the sun are sacred, more powerful than any other symbols. Gold represents wealth, divinity, and immortality, while the sun is the source of all life, the giver of life itself. She says that I carry both those elements within me—that I was meant for greatness.
If only I had that kind of power. The kind that could push back the darkness, the kind that could rewrite history, or bring people back from the dead.
If I were truly blessed, I would have the power to make Jax stop following me like a damn dime store detective.
Her once dark hair, now peppered with gray, rests in a thick braid over her left shoulder. “You look beautiful today,” I say honestly. Even at seventy-five, my mother is still a beautiful woman.
She shooed me away. “You always say that.”
I take her frail hand in mine. “That’s because you always look beautiful.”
“Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. How is life as a security guard?”
I told my mother the truth, that I work for a security firm. I just left out the part about flying helicopters and dangerous missions. She believes I’m a rent-a-cop guarding a mall somewhere or traveling to different office buildings, safeguarding the lobbies.
“Boring.”
“Well, for someone who travels so much, I find it hard to believe your life is so boring.”
Ignoring her questions, I try to redirect the conversation to safer topics. “Did you play bingo yesterday?”
“Are you asking because you want my prize money?”
All fifty cents?“So you did win! Shame on you, hustling these ladies at bingo.”
“That one.” She points to a woman rolling herself into the room. “She’s a nasty piece. Stole my best shoes.”
Years ago, just before deploying to Iraq, I checked my mother into this facility because she showed signs of dementia, and it’s only getting worse. Her verbal filters are nonexistent. She says some outrageous stuff. Sometimes it’s entertaining as hell. Sometimes, it’s just heartbreaking.
“Mami, that woman didn’t steal your shoes.”
“What do you know?” she snaps, “Do you live here?”
“No, ma’am.” It’s best to indulge her, so she doesn’t get worked up. My mother angers easily when she becomes confused.
A nurse wearing pink scrubs hands my mother a paper cup with pills in it. My mother dumps them out in her hand and sorts them, inspecting each one carefully. “You can’t be too sure what they’re giving you,” she explains. “Always check.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeat.
“Linda, tell my son about how Miriam stole my best shoes.”
The nurse nods. “She did. Pilfered your mother’s favorite pair of slippers right out of her closet. It’s a shame what she did to them. We weren’t able to save them.”
The fuck did she do to them? I’ve learned it’s best not to ask when it comes to the residents here. My mother shoots me a superior look.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t believe you. I’ll bring you a new pair of slippers next time I visit.”
I make her a cup of tea from the wet bar in the corner, and we pass the time trading stories and catching up on the time I’ve been away. Just before dinnertime, I kiss her cheek and bid her farewell.
On my way out the door, I stop and ask Allison, “Did anyone stop by?”
“No, Mr. Kendrix. I haven’t seen anyone like you described.”
“Thank you, Allison.”
Jax didn’t need to come inside. He saw all he needed to from the parking lot. Jax is a capable hacker. All he needed was the name of the facility to find the reason I was here.
CHAPTER5
