Ravela was busy in her house. The radio on the edge of the basement stairs carried down the sound of the music blasting from upstairs. This world's tunes began to grow on her much more so than on the companion haunting her thoughts, who seemed strangely absent whenever the radio played music.
Not that she minded the peace and silence of being alone with her thoughts for a while. The cable underneath the black stone tiles led directly to the golden circle she had woven.
Ravela was working on the back wall. The hidden door that was to lead into her hideout would fit seamlessly with the bathroom wall. There would be other ways to enter, of course, but this one would be her very own entrance.
An inconspicuous spot like the others she had planned, but easily to access when she wanted to. She was already in her basement after all. There were no prying eyes to see her enter here. The cables throughout the house all converged close to this hidden doorway. The electricity for her home had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere would be hidden in her hideout.
Independence from the outside was important to her, and thus, her mind had drawn up a plan that would allow her to sustain her compound indefinitely if need be.
Ravela was just starting to hum along with the music when, once again, the song was cut short by the voice of the radio host chiming in.
“Alright, folks, with the Fourth of July drawing closer and the summer in full swing, things seemingly heat up even more. Just now, the City Union Bank building has been swarmed by a proverbial army of police and federal agents alike. There was a big commotion, and a caller from inside the building informed us that all the bank’s safe deposit boxes were apparently empty, and the management was in a state of absolute panic. This is not the first time in recent months that a vault had been relieved of all its money, but it was the first major bank with safety deposit boxes and immensely wealthy customers. The vault was quote-on-quote cleared entirely. In other banks, specific deposit boxes were empty upon inspection, and the money from the safe was seemingly stolen during the work day while the banks were operating as usual. Still, here it seems the mysterious thief sent a loud message to the bank that recently had burdened some of its customers with losses they otherwise would have eaten. Thanks to the generosity of our sitting president, they had gotten away with it scot-free.”
Ravela pause her work to listen in a bit closer. Such a skilled thief could only mean a man with a superpower had taken to crime in an enormously profitable way. While everybody was fighting, someone was working hard to become rich. Her curiosity urged her to chase ghosts. She took a long sip from her still-cool soft drink.
“We don’t know who the mysterious thief is, but as of today, his score is undoubtedly north of the ten million mark. Just think of that listener, out there amongst us walks a man with an hourly wage that mortal men could only dream of. I, for one, would like this criminal to know one thing, as a deposit box owner in this bank, I HOPE THE GOD DAMN TAXMAN GETS YOU, YOU GRUBBY BASTARD. I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON MY MOTHER’S FAMILY RING, YOU SWINE! I HOPE THEY GET YOU WHILE YOU ON THE SHITTER WITH A LOG HALFWAY OUT WHEN THEY DRAG YOU OFF! ...What are you doing? Get off of me, you-”
Ravela almost spat out her drink at the sudden explosion of emotion from the usually soft-spoken radio host. The sound of a scuffle, evidently from the radio station staff who sought to minimize the situation's damage, was also amusing.
Then followed a long silence before a shy voice spoke up. “This is once again Melle Mulage filling in for your usual host, who is currently, and maybe understandably, upset beyond the measure of polite words. We will now continue our usual program with a new song. As always, dear listeners, we will deliver the breaking news and the newest developments as they reach our ears. Please, enjoy Bo Kreol with his newest song, Jezibelle.”
The song began in stark contrast with the angry host's last outburst as a slow and smooth ballad.
Ravela was still laughing at the outburst from the radio host. Her mood abruptly shifted to serious. This wasn’t the time to get distracted, she had work that needed to get done, lest she wished to spend the rest of the year in a motel.
The time for her graduation ceremony would come very soon. She was ready to finish the preparatory phase of her life and get actually to live it.
She heard someone honking outside and paused. Ravela turned off the radio before she even got to the stairs to spare her sensitive ears. Visitors tended to show up at her place as they pleased. Looking out of the window, she relaxed a bit because, at the very least, her visitor had respected the closed gate. The honking game from the other side of the property gate.
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Making her way to the gate took a while, but her visitor was persistent. Ravela called out to the honking car, hoping they would stop the honking when they heard she was on the way. It worked, and as she walked the last few steps to the gate, Sheriff Thorn's voice reached her ear.
“Ramiel! I was starting to think that you weren’t home.” Sheriff Thorn called out over the still-closed gate.
Pulling open the gate, she found the Sheriff leaning against his car. She walked up to him, shaking his hand with a warm smile. “Blessed day, Sheriff. Sorry, I still haven’t installed a bell yet.” Scratching her cheek, Ravela added apologetically, "Or I'm not expecting visitors at all.”
The old sheriff waved off her comment. “A blessed day to you, too, Ramiel.” He pulled out a coat hanger from the backbench with a protection cover over it. “I thought that before you go on to get all the offers from the PCPD poaching you from Gradjia, at least for one day, you should feel like a proper part of Gradjia’s sheriff’s office.”
Ravela took the coat hanger held out to her, a bit startled. “A graduation uniform? For me? Wow, I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Will it fit, though?” She wondered.
Sheriff Thorn smiled. “Oh, don’t you worry, we got a seamstress with an incredibly keen eye. She rarely needs to take measurements. Besides, you went to her shop before, and she clearly remembered you.”
Ravela laughed nervously while the Sheriff walked with her toward the house. She carefully put the covered uniform into her own car.
The Sheriff pulled out a small box covered with a soft layer of blue fabric. “No deputy is properly dressed without one of these.”
Ravela took the box carefully and opened it with reverence. To her, it held something she could truly treasure. The shiny new Sheriff star in it looked immaculate on the little white pillow.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you, again, for everything.” Ravela said, closing the box carefully. “I realize that I only will be a deputy for a day, but I will wear all of this with pride.”
Sheriff Thorn looked a bit flustered. “Aw, don’t mention it. Just make sure you look properly dashing in that uniform so more recruits will think about taking a job in our little town.”
Ravela smiled. “I can do that.” She put the small box into her car’s glove box. “That’s not all you wanted to talk about, is it?”
The old man straightened his shoulders, looking straight at Ravela. “There is a favor I want to ask of you.” He admitted slowly.
Ravela smiled less warmly than before. A slight tenseness crawled on her face. “You just name it.”
“I heard from my various friends inside the force that you are a sought-after commodity inside the PD. I would ask that of all the stations that ask for you, you consider the PD Station six especially. It wouldn’t be to your detriment.” He shifted his weight before continuing to speak. “I won’t pretend that I am asking this without cause.”
Ravela studied his face more closely. The hint of worry in his eyes was not even lost on her. “Your son is working there, I presume?”
The man awkwardly nodded. “Yes, he recently got transferred there. He’s now working homicides, but after switching departments, it appears that he doesn’t get along with many in his section or the department, for that matter. He needs some allies in there. I thought that you might be able to have his back once you get there.”
“I see. But I would just be a regular police officer, hardly someone who can aid a detective in homicide.” Ravela responded thoughtfully.
“Having someone in the department who he can rely upon would already be an improvement,” the sheriff said with a sigh.
Ravela thought about his request for a moment. Having a detective in the department that was aiding her growth would certainly help. The chance to get off the regular patrol officer routine early as a called-upon assistant for a homicide detective may also help her. Unless, of course, the entire department above said detective was against him.
“Does he have trouble with his superiors?” Ravela cautiously inquired.
“Not really. They know he’s a good cop, but during this recent escalation with the gangs, he put too much spotlight on himself. They felt he needed some time off the radar and a bit of experience in another field.” The sheriff said with a scoff.
“So, in other words, someone in his former department had a problem with him doing his job well,” Ravela concluded. “But with the gang war going on, your son may have had the last laugh. Having a target from these guys on your back has recently become much more dangerous. So, even with the toe-stepping, I would consider your son the lucky one there.”
Sheriff Thorn shrugged. “Yes, just try to tell him that and see how he feels about it. If you go to that 6th, just remember not to tell him that I asked you to go there.”
Ravela smirked at that request. “I see. The son doesn’t want to feel like his father is still looking after him. I get it.”
She accompanied the sheriff back to his car and saw him off. Then she was alone again with a new request steering her life a certain way. Gratitude to those who helped her seemed to rule her new life. “So, the 6th, hm.” She rolled the sound of the department number over her tongue repeatedly. Then she started saying other department designations for comparison. Eventually, concluding that she indeed liked the sound of it better than most of the others she had tried.
Whenever she came to a crossroads, it seemed as though life nudged her toward a path, and for now, she would follow the wind as it carried her.
She walked back to her house, and a lot more work needed to be done. The troubles of the future could wait for another day or week.
One day till the graduation ceremony. There was so much she would get done before her first day of work. Attending the ceremony in a sheriff’s graduation uniform instead of one of the general recruit uniforms was certainly something.
Graduating on a Monday and getting sworn in on a Wednesday, the fourth of July. The Unified States were all about rituals. Ravela wasn’t sure how she felt about that yet.
Maybe, she thought, it would grow on her.