Page 16 of Aftermath
“No, silly,” Lyla laughed. “Mom and I woke early today to get the best bagels from Don’s for the week.”
Don’s Bakery, the staple of our small California town. I checked the calendar on my wall beside me, realizing it was Tuesday. That one day of the week, the bakery had half price bagels and a giant selection of flavors.
I envied them.
“Send me one,” I joked.
“Pretty sure it will get stale in the mail,” Lyla laughed.
“You’re right. I’ll just have to get my own soon.”
A promise I planned to keep the moment I finished this case. I missed my family, but I had to work through everything haunting me before I could see them, for their sake and my own sanity.
Briarport had to have the answers I sought, to put to rest the feeling I couldn’t shake of failing more people.
“I have to go, but Winston, listen to me,” my mother said, taking the phone back. “You deserve a break from so much work. You’re so young. Don’t let life slip you by.”
It was always something similar. She meant well, but I couldn’t help but feel this was it for me. I ruined my one chance in the field, and now all I was left with was my knowledge. It was the sentence I deserved. I could never escape the burdening awareness of the mistake I made. All I could do was make sure no one else made the same ones. It was why I was so hard on the trainees I took on.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, avoiding her plea.
“I love you too,” she said before hanging up.
I checked the clock and realized I had only two hours to make it to the airport before boarding. Sleep would have to wait.
* * *
I pushed back my sleeves as my plane descended into Portland.
“Does that mean something?” the curious woman beside me asked.
I’d managed to avoid her prying questions most of the flight, finally getting in a nap, but at boarding and now descending, I wasn’t as lucky.
She was staring straight at the sage worked into my sleeve of tattoos wrapping up my right arm.
“Wisdom,” I answered.
I’d carefully selected every single detail of the tattoos.
She tilted her head, studying the rest, and I pushed down my sleeves, growing self-conscious. There were some I preferred she didn’t ask about.
“It’s kind of feminine, isn’t it?” she prodded.
The woman didn’t know when enough was enough. My distant gaze out the window wasn’t enough to stop her intrusive comments.
“I don’t think so at all,” I commented. “In fact, multiple cultures considered sage to be a symbol of wisdom and wellness. The ancient Greeks referred to their philosophers as sages. In Medieval European cultures, sage was linked to longevity and wisdom-”
The woman pulled out earbuds and stuck them in her ears, cutting me off. I sighed. At least I’d earned my peace back.
The flight attendant made her final round, collecting trash, and I passed across an empty plastic cup I’d acquired early in the flight. The woman beside me ignored the voice that came over the speaker asking everyone to put their trays and seats up. I tried tapping her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes before turning to me.
Oh, now I’m the nuisance.
“That needs to go up,” I tried to say politely.
“Why?” she scoffed.
“Because they just made the announcement,” I answered.
