Chapter 12

The Karlmann King came to life just as easy as you please. 6.8-liter V10 humming purred like a kitten. The electronics worked just fine in a car ripped from the pages of a magazine, which set Jeremy back four dollars. $3.8 million dollar SUV that shaped like a Stealth Fighter, four bucks, for a day’s worth of driving- seemed like a pretty good deal. Dark windows, bullet proof, weighing in about five tons, 8 feet tall, the massive, black SUV was anything but Stealth. He considered before taking off:

“Fifty miles to Dallas, an endless tank of gas, and I am the sunglasses,” he said. He touched the dash. “Hit it.”

Nickleback, “I want to be a Rockstar” began to play.

Interestingly, the same anonymity that worked for him on the street also worked on the freeway. Though the car captured the attention of other drivers, they likely assumed VIP or military, or something more sinister, like MIB, and let him pass. He might as well have been an ambulance with sirens blaring for the ease of which he got past. Anonymity wasn’t just stealth, it was people wanted nothing to do with you or the dark cloud of karma following. Finding a parking place in Dallas, well, that was just normal. He did find a place with a running meter and parked next to the jail. Inside his backpack, taped to the bottom, was a small envelope, apparently missed by the police and FBI. He pulled it out, tore an end, and dumped the contents into his hand. Film cells. He sorted, holding them up to the light in the car, weighing its value, and then, with some difficulty, selected one. Her. The woman in red. The one that distracted Neo in the Matrix. She came out of the cell and into the passenger side of the car.

The woman took her first breath. She turned her eyes to Jeremy and smiled pseudo demurely.

“Jer, jer, jer,” she said.

Jeremy was startled out of his cell staring trance. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s been a while,” she said.

Interestingly, her saying that coincided with Staind singing the same. Her mouth movement were exaggerated, as if she were singing to him. Jeremy waited to see if there was more coming. She just looked at him, clearly waiting for him to finish assessing her.

“Jenny?” Jeremy asked.

“OMG,” she said, frowning. “I am so not Jenny. Can’t you tell?”

“Your voices changes with the body,” Jeremy said.

“Can’t you read our energy signature or something?” she asked.

“No, I am not a Star Fleet officer,” he said.

“Auras?” she asked.

“Not a psychic,” Jeremy said.

“I am Amber,” Amber said.

“Amber! Wow, nice to see you,” Jeremy said. “It has been a while.”

“Miss me?” Amber asked, killing the anger and bringing back her loving feeling.

“Absolutely,” Jeremy said.

“Want to play?” Amber asked, her eyes suggesting they crawl into the back seat. She sucked in her lip, playfully teasing.

“We’re on a mission from God,” Jeremy said.

“Oh, yay! It’s been a while since we did a mission. Wait a minute, mission or trick?” Amber asked.

“Mission,” Jeremy said. “But I do need your glamor energy.”

“The last time I turned a trick for you was at that group home, for your paraplegic friend,” Amber said.

“Actually,” Jeremy said, sorting it. He was impressed with her memory. “I have dialed back my crime life.”

“That wasn’t a crime. That was just being super nice to friends,” Amber said. “Handicap people need love to.”

“I am with you,” Jeremy said. “So, um, this is important. Do you want me to handle you?”

“I love it when you handle me,” Amber said. “But, just minor guidance. I want to play.”

“Very well,” Jeremy said. “Go in that building and ask to speak to a Detective Mateo Flores.”

“Wow, this is like a real mission?” Amber said, excitedly. “What are we looking for? Whereabouts of bad guys? Are we going to take down a crime lord, like in the old days?”

“No,” Jeremy said. “We’re just going to find out how he knew to find me.”

Amber sorted it. She smiled. “You got arrested.”

“We’ll talk later,” Jeremy said.

Amber shook her head. “No we want,” she argued. “You always say that, but it’s never talk.”

“We talk after,” Jeremy protested.

“Sometimes,” Amber said.

“If you weren’t so random, maybe we’d play more, talk more,” Jeremy offered.

“There is that,” Amber said, looking out the window at the Dallas landscape. Musing. “How’s the research going?”

“No progress,” Jeremy said.

“Have you tried my crystal idea?” Amber asked.

Jeremy pulled a crystal out of his pocket, and a worry stone with the word ‘serenity’ etched on it, filled with gold. The stone had clear a crack in it.

“Oh,” Amber said. “Serenity is broken.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “I dropped it.”

“Get a new one?”

“We don’t throw things away just cause they’re broken,” Jeremy said. “Anyway, I don’t see the crystal adding anything to my abilities.”

“Well, you need a bigger crystal. And lots of crystals. Turn your home into a superman fortress of crystals,” Amber said.

“Yeah, because that’s not a leap into metaphysical,” Jeremy said.

“You know, placebos are a real thing,” Amber said. “Maybe it’s nothing to do with the crystal, but the belief in the crystals. Maybe Harry Potter doesn’t need a wand, but the wand is cool. Or maybe, there’s something to the whole crystal radio thing. Remember your dad’s Steve Austin toy with the back and the crystal radio. No battery needed! Seriously, get some crystals. Some serious crystrals.”

“I will give it a go,” Jeremy said.

“Promise?” Amber asked.

“Promise,” Jeremy said.

“Channel me when you do?” Amber asked.

“I am not medium,” Jeremy said.

“This is so channeling,” Amber said.

“Um, okay,” Jeremy said. “So, what, you were a stripper in your past life?”

“No!” Amber said. “No. I don’t remember a past life. I only remember our life. If I were to guess, I would say I was a dancer.”

“You can dance,” Jeremy said.

“You can dance if you want you,” Amber said. The song changed abruptly with her ‘summoning.’

“No!” Jeremy said. “I don’t want that in my head all day. Go.”

“Or what, you’ll make me?” Amber said.

Jeremy frowned, closed his eyes. Amber opened the door and got out.

“Not fair,” Amber was saying as she walked away.

Amber was aware of heads turning as she proceeded into the building. Someone actually held a door for her. She had to pass under a metal detector. People gave up their spot in the queue, mostly from just being frozen with goofy smiles like deer in a head light. It didn’t beep. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if it had. The security people were mesmerized. She passed some officers standing in a small group, ogling.

“Hello, boys,” Amber said as she passed.

“Tone it down a bit,” Jeremy said in her head.

“You made me this way,” Amber said. And for the fun of it, quoted Jessica: “You don’t know how hard it is being a woman looking the way I do.”

Jeremy played along: “You don’t know how hard it is being a man looking at a woman looking the way you do.”

“Oh, baby, I remember exactly how hard it is,” Amber said. “Excuse me a moment.” She approached the help desk. “I need to speak to a detective Mateo Flores, please. I have information on a case he’s working.”

“Name?” the receptionist asked.

“Mateo Flores,” Amber said, slowly.

“Your name,” the receptionist asked, a little angry.

“Oh!” Amber said, laughing. “Sorry. I don’t have a lot of practice being social. Um. Amber.”

“Amber, what?” the receptionist asked.

“Um,” Amber said. Jeremy gave her the answer. “Wade. Amber Wade.”

“Wade over there. Wait. Wait over there,” the receptionist said.

Amber retreated to general area she was told to wait. She leaned against the wall. “You really should take me out more.”

“I have actually been trying to cut back,” Jeremy said.

“Seriously?” Amber asked. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”

“I was curious if delayed gratification would increase the longevity of the manifestations,” Jeremy said.

Amber laughed. “How’s that working for you?”

Jeremy’s pout got translated across her face. “I see no difference.”

“What’s the longest you held out? An hour?” Amber asked.

“Two weeks, four days, six hours,” Jeremy said. Amber’s lips moved, as if subvocalizing something being read.

“That’s impressive!” Amber said, perhaps a bit loud.

Detective Flores arrived, with a female officer, in uniform, K Brown on her name tag. He introduced her as Kelly.

“Are you on a phone call?” Flores said.

“No,” Amber said. “We just talk to ourselves. A lot.”

“Psych ward missing a patient?” Brown asked.

“Oh, I like you,” Amber said. “Want to be cuffed together?”

“Are you related to Jeremy Wade?” Flores asked.

“That’s really difficult to answer,” Amber said. “Can we talk in private? All these people staring are making me horny.”

Flores and Kelly exchanged looks and then led her back the way they came. They found a conference room not being used. He introduced Amber to Kelly, and they all took a seat. He took out a pad of paper and a pen.

“So, how do you know Jeremy?” Flores asked.

“I was going to ask you the very same thing,” Amber said.

“You look familiar,” Brown said.

“Oh, I get that a lot,” Amber said. “And it doesn’t matter what I am wearing. I am a bright shiny.”

“Um, back to Jeremy,” Flores said.

“Yes, Jeremy. How do you know him?” Amber asked.

“I don’t know him. That’s why I am asking about him. You share his last name,” Flores said. “His fake last name.”

“What’s your real name,” Brown asked.

“Ask me over a drink, you might get it,” Amber offered. The detective and officer maintained their professional faces even in the light of heat. “You two are seriously stone cold professionals. It’s really hot. The thing is, Detective. You had a sting set up. You were expecting Jeremy. So, either you’re a psychic, or you have a psychic in your pocket. Well, maybe not the only thing in your pocket.”

“Amber,” Jeremy said. “Tone it down.”

“I can’t help it! It’s been so long,” Amber said, and realized she said that out loud. She smiled. “We are not really crazy. Honest. He just doesn’t take me out very often.”

“He?” Flores asked. “Jeremy?”

“Are you being trafficked,” Kelly asked.

“Trafficked?” Kelly said.

“Is Jeremy your pimp?” Flores asked.

“Oh,” Amber said. She thought it about longer than she needed to. Jeremy nearly gave her words. “Pimp is really not the right word for our relationship. Well, mostly. Pimp. Pimp daddy. Daddy. More like that relationship from Night Shift, 1982, with Henry Winkler and Shelley Long.”

“He’s the Fonz?” Flores asked.

“Goldfinger. He's the man, the man with the Midas touch, a spider's touch, such a cold finger, beckons you to enter his web of sin, but don't go in…”

“Amber!” Jeremy interrupted.

“Sorry,” Amber said. “I get carried away sometime.”

“Are you playing us?” Flores said. “Cause I could hold you.”

“Oh, yay, now who’s flirting,” Amber said. “Playing us. Oh, because of the memes? Movies are memes. Seriously, movies should be treated like people. No, like archetypes. If people knew how serious movies are, there would be more care in the crafting, and more discernment in what people put in their heads. You’re looking for someone specific. Jeremy. No one remembers Jeremy. Goldfinger was taken. Don’t say it! Oh, come on. Let me tell them your name.”

“Do you and Jeremy work for the Goddess?” Flores asked.

Amber became deadly serious. She leaned back, crossed her legs, and placed her hands in her lap. Her level of serious study went up. Flores and Brown were also suddenly more attentive.

“Amber, I have to go,” Jeremy said. “Hold there as long as you can. Learn as much as you can. I am listening.”

“Go with love,” Amber said. “What do you know about the Goddess?”

Flores put down his pen. “How is Jeremy related to the Goddess?”

“Are you a Scottish Rite Free Mason?” Amber asked.

“I am,” Brown said.

“You’re a woman,” Amber said. “You’re an Eastern Star at best, or a poser.”

“No, New York chapter,” Brown said.

“The world is changing,” Amber frowned.

“The Goddess is wanted for suspicion of murder,” Flores said. “If you know something, you could be considered an accomplice.”

“I am still confused about Jeremy’s connection to you,” Amber said. “Give me that, I’ll give you something.”

Flores frowned, but decided to take a chance. “I got an anonymous tip. A letter in the mail said ‘the Goddess is coming;’ it provided an address, a time, and described a diamond ring. The ring bearer will lead you to her.”

Amber chuckled. “So, you have nothing. No one sees the Goddess coming. No one finds the Goddess, she finds you, like a thief in the night. She comes to you like a moth to a flame.”

“That’s weird,” Brown said. “A moth perishes in the flame. You’re saying the Goddess dies?”

“The moth perishes in the flame. The flame perishes in the moth. Together, they are renewed,” Amber said.

“She brings death?” Flores said.

“The Goddess has many gifts. She brings love, nurture, education, inspiration, light, protection, judgment,” Amber said. “It’s individually tailored to meet the needs of the applicant. Generally, but not absolutely, what’s in your heart gets mirrored back, amplified.”

“Not absolute?” Brown said.

“The Goddess exercises discernment,” Amber said. “All fall short. The greatest gift is mercy.”

“Is judgment mercy?” Flores asked. “So she kills people.”

“People kill themselves. But yes, sometimes, death is mercy,” Amber said. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“No,” Flores said.

“You’re about to,” Amber said. “Quickly. Any last questions?”

“How do we find the Goddess?” Flores asked.

“Oh, you’re not listening,” Amber said, sighing. “And you just wasted a question. Go with love, travel Light,” Amber said.

Amber coalesced into brilliant, gold light sparks of rainbows, and then dissipated away, lines of her stretching out, mostly in vertical rays, and was gone. There was smell of ozone. Brown’s radio became hot, smoking, and she had to take it off. Flores jacket pocket was smoking, and he took it off. He dumped the content out on the table. His cell was too hot to touch, and clearly dead.