Chapter 38
Cindy Santos was back in the Channel 8 News studio on Princess Street at 1:09 PM, editing a script for an update of Dale Smite’s murder. She had already been informed by the Wilmington Police Department that nothing of significant value or interest had turned up in the early morning search of the back yard at 2393 Van Buren Street, even though metal detectors, ground-penetrating radar, and dogs had been used. I wonder if David found his treasure last night. Maybe I’ll send him a text.
She got out her primary cell phone and typed:
Hope you got what you were looking
for last night. All the best, Cindy
The air conditioner was humming away as she depressed the Send key. It was another hot, mega-muggy, late June day. The humidosphere, she heard the weekend meteorologist call it. On days like this she missed cool and perennially foggy Daly City. But, she didn’t miss the earthquake risk.
She recalled a strong temblor while in high school. She was terrified. Ceiling tiles fell down. A bookcase fell over and hit her teacher, breaking her leg. She vividly recalled everyone screaming and crying. As the class huddled under tables, her scared-for-her-life best friend told her, “I just know that we’re all going to die.”
Her parents had also told her about massive earthquakes in Manila, and how they leveled whole shantytowns. She could deal with the heat, the humidity, the severe thunderstorms, as well as the not-that-infrequent tornado and occasional hurricane threats. However, the unannounced nature of earthquakes scared the bejesus out of her.
As she was putting the finishing touches on her script, her cell phone chirped. It was a text message from David; it read:
I did. Thanks so much. I’ll tell
you more in ten days. I have
a gift for you. – David
Ten days? Why can’t he just tell me now? Gosh, I have to go a week and a half in suspense. A gift? Wow. I wonder what it could be.
She texted him back:
Ok, mystery-gift man, I’ll be
waiting. Don’t forget me.
Within two minutes, David replied:
I won’t. Trust me.
Cindy made the final revisions to the script, read it to herself silently, then recorded it for the voiceover, and left the studio. She was back at her condo at 1:54 PM. Storm clouds were billowing to the west. The front’s leading winds were already creating small whitecaps on the river.
She opened the balcony door, leaving the screen door in place. She then curled up in her round, brown-framed, pink-cushioned Papasan chair that she had brought with her from Daly City, and watched the storm approach. It was one of her favorite things to do. It made her feel so refreshed. Her mind would always have such interesting thoughts, almost from some other world, she felt. Maybe it was all of the negative ions whirling about.
The sky grew grayer and darker. She could see the curtain of rain approaching. The west winds became stronger with gusts over forty-five miles per hour. People vacated the river boardwalk and Water Street. A piece of wax paper was whipped high into the air, spiraled around, and then sailed over a nearby four-story building.
A storm-induced reverie began as Cindy saw the first lightning bolt touch down off in the distance in Brunswick County. I wonder how much gold David found in Dale’s back yard. How did he retrieve it? I guess he had a metal detector. How did he get in the back yard without being seen? Did someone help him? Will he kick back some of his treasure to me for the priceless tip that I gave him? I wonder how deep the river is in the middle. I wonder if I could still swim it. I’d hate to attempt it now. Aren’t there alligators alongside the battleship? Swimming in that river is a death wish, girl. I wonder how big David’s utin [penis in Filipino] is. I bet it would fill my buto [vagina in Filipino] perfectly. Wow, I’d like to have wild sex with him in a storm, just like this one. I bet he fucks like a wild boar. But, I’m in the local spotlight as a TV reporter. Everyone seems to have seen me in this town. I can’t go anywhere without being recognized. I knew this went with the territory. I liked the notoriety at first; now, I thoroughly hate it. In fact, I’m ready to pay someone to do my grocery shopping for me. Yeah, I should call one of those services tomorrow.
A raindrop hit her forehead. She got up and closed the balcony door. A lone seagull was perched on her black railing, getting drenched. Poor bird. You can fly, but you’re always outside. No easy life there.