Ordinary Life: The Challenge

Freshman

The next morning, I walk into the the headquarters, with my coffee and purse. "Good morning Eve, we got some freshman who need training." Justin helped me open my door. "Okay." "....and they're a tough group." Justin adds. "Tough? What do you mean?" "They're rude. The county sent us a bad group." I chuckled under my breath as I set my belongings on my desk. "They'll think twice about that."

Once I set my things down, Justin and I walked to the board room. This room brought back terrible memories. I was once fired in this room. My life practically ended here. When I walked inside, this group, by the looks of them, were immature, in the sense of their body language. Slouching, groaning and moaning, sucking their teeth as if they didn't want to be here, more like they were forced.

"Good morning, my name is Chief Genevieve Reynolds, but you will address me as Chief Reynolds. Before you get to know this department, you should get to know me, since I will be your boss." One fellow snickered, but I didn't let it bother me.

"I've been working here for seven years now, so I started here when I was 22, so you can do the math on my age." I grabbed the remote to control the presentation slides that were put onto the television. "Excuse me, question." A man raised his hand. "Yes?" "So if I were to work here for...say eight years, I'd be eligible to be chief?" "No." I pressed a button to change the slide. "Moving on, our boar-" "Why though?" He interrupted. "What's your name?" I asked. Justin sat in the corner laughing under his breath. "Vincent Sharpe." I smiled lightly and said, "Well, Mr. Sharpe, the position of  Chief is by contract, traditionally ten years, but I can go on as long as I please. I can stay until I either, retire, get fired, or...die, and I don't qualify for any of those right now. So don't get ahead of yourself." I looked him deep into his eyes. "As I was saying, our board members are strict dignitaries who have the position to vote on removing or adding people to this department. As of right now, they should be your best friend, because they selected you to be here. But, if I feel like you don't belong here, as chief we can discuss your placement here." I say. "Here beside me, is Justin Richards. He's my right hand man. I call him the Second Chief. If I am unable to do something in whatever circumstance, he will be here."

"He must have given her a little something something for him to be in that position." Another man whispered and laughed. "You sir, stand up." Justin called him out. The man stood up, appearing frightened. "State your name." "Quincy Barrion." "Mr. Barrion, let me give you and your comedy club audience a word of advice." Justin leaned over the table. "You are not to speak unless spoken to. Making sexual jokes or remarks is unprofessional and it is prohibited within these halls. If you think this is a game, I can fuck up your whole career here. Do you want me to make your job a living hell?" Quincys eyes were big. "No. Sir." "Do I make myself clear?" I had never seen Justin act that way...with anyone. "Yes." Quincy said. "Yes, what?" "Yes, Mr. Richards."

I had never seen Justin get that angry in a sense that he was trying to be calm. "Please, ladies and gentleman, do not take things here lightly. And don't think you're sneaky, because I find out everything. I may investigate what goes on outside these walls, but I also investigate what goes on inside. I already have a man locked up for it." I say. "Wyatt Henderson" A woman in the back said. "Who said that?" Everyone moved to the side until I got a clear view of the woman. "State your name." I say. She looked up to me, with bright blue eyes, "Veronica Lapierre"

She appeared bright, sunshine and rainbow type of girl. "You know him?" I asked. "No, but I followed the investigation. It was very intriguing and I really admire your work." "I appreciate your kind words, but that case is closed and we are to not speak of it again, especially around me." I say sternly.

"Okay everyone, that concludes everything with me. Justin and my closest collegues will take you on a tour of the headquarters for rest of the day. I have business to handle."

I walk back to my office and right before I enter, a co-worker says, "Chief, you have a caller on line one." "Who is it?" I asked. "They didn't say." She shrugged her shoulders.

I sat at my desk and picked up the phone. "Hello?" I answer. "This call is being monitored by security from Los Angeles County Prison over inmate, Wyatt Henderson. Press one to speak with this inmate." I was shaking. I pressed one and the phone rang.

"Hello?" I hear a man. "Wyatt?" I answered. "Eve? How are you?" I quickly closed and locked my door so no one could hear me. "What do you want, Wyatt?" "Look, Genevieve, this call is very serious. Is your sister okay? Brandon?" "They're dead." I say with a heavy breath. "Shit..." He sounded frustrated. "Why? What do you know?" I asked. "I called like three days ago, I really wish you could've called me back." "I never knew that you called, and honestly, Wyatt, I'm going to end this right now." "No! No! No! Don't do that. Please. You need to hear me out."

I sat back in my seat and said, "Why on God's green earth should I even waste my time speaking or listening to you?"Because your life is at stake." My attention status was high. "Look Eve, I'm not going to hide behind the bush, I did kill Barbara and Keith, and so did Charlie. But, there is someone else. I tried calling you to tell you, so you could warn your sister and , but I guess, I was too late." He said. I grabbed some tissues, soaking up the tears that escaped my eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "Because I care about you. And even though we ended up the way we did, you never did me wrong, and with my gratitude, I wanted to give back. It is the only thing I can do. An apology will not change anything, I know it won't, but I'd die happier knowing I said I was sorry."

I didn't feel comfortable speaking with him yet I was hungry for answers. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you kill those innocent people?" "Not everyone is innocent, Genevieve. No one is innocent, not even you." My heart raced. "I have to go, but before I leave, I have a poem, that I'd like to say to you." He said. "What is it?" "The hater will pose as a lover and they're always around you, I hope you realize. The enemy stands right before you, hiding in disguise." The phone line cut off.

A hater will pose as a lover?