Valley of Muloor

5. Summer Storm

Packing the last of the pool lanes in the shed, I frowned at the similarity of the situation as an anxious fluttering began in my stomach. Since the incident, a new rule was implemented where everyone had to stick around for lockup. Wiping the beads of sweat that had formed across my forehead, I heaved a sigh as I pulled the roller doors shut and was instantly met with an ice pop swaying in my face.

Laura stood there with her own in her mouth, tired happiness lighting up her features. Snatching the ice pop from her, we retreated into the shade of the entry house, taking seats on the sticky plastic chairs, drained from the midday heat. Jimmy sat in the furthest corner from us, organising the cash and coins gained today, simultaneously continuing the battle to keep his thick glasses from sliding down his nose. "Hey Jimmy Jimbo," sung Laura from the freezer, already getting stuck into her second. "Want an ice pop?" Silently, Jimmy denied, maintaining his concentration for the task at hand. Collapsing in the chair next to me whilst unwrapping her ice pop, Laura glanced at me with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

"So, how do you know so much about Mr. Tattoos?" At her abrupt questioning, I snorted.

"Okay, what do you even mean?" I laughed. "Wait, did you just name him Mr. Tattoos?"

"Don't act dumb with me," she narrowed her eyes, pointing he ice pop in my direction. "You're the one who knew who he was. Now spill."

"Are you sure you're not the new recruit, detective Laura?" I wiggled my eyebrows. Shoving me playfully, she got up and stood next to the small desk fan and welcomed its breeze. "You do know I live under the same roof as the towns eyes and ears, right? Besides, that's all I really know, which was pretty much reinforced by Evers anyway." I shrugged, polishing off the last of my ice pop.

"I wonder where he's staying. I mean even I haven't heard anything about the guy until today, so surely if he moved in, someone would've noticed."

I hesitated. "I'm sure we'll hear about it soon enough," I mumbled, avoiding her stare.

"Wren, you know where he lives, don't you?" She said, crossing her arms as suspicion danced in her eyes.

"Uh, well," I bit my lip.

"Wren," she stared me down harder.

"You know the old dingy place across the road from mine? The one that's been empty for years?"

"Surely not!" she gasped, moving away from the fan abruptly, and causing Jimmy to fumble with a few coins in surprise. "That place is probably crawling with god knows what, how could someone live there?!"

"Maybe you could save him and let him bunk with you," I laughed, only to dodge an incoming ice-pop stick.

"You're one to talk, don't act like I didn't see you staring at his absss," she hissed in response, crossing her arms as a cruel smile played on her lips. Laughing harder, I shoved her as I got up to retrieve my bag.

"Hey Jimmy, you keen to join us? We're just heading to the deli." I called out. Again, silently he declined as he grabbed his bag and the keys. Laura emerged from the corner with her own belongings and we all started for the door. As we heard the final lock click from behind, Laura and I directed ourselves toward town, and just as we were about to cross the road, we heard someone call out. Looking at one another, then turning around, we were met by Jimmy's shy gaze.

"You g-guys better get back home quickly," he croaked, "there's a summer s-storm brewing."

"Thanks, man." Laura smiled, only causing him to blush and look away.

Collapsing onto the white bench outside the deli with our meals, we laughed as we reflected on the days event, animatedly talking and properly catching up on lost time. The sky gradually began to darken as clouds rolled down the mountain slopes, and the steady rumbling of thunder could be heard between the growing breeze. Taking the sudden change in weather as our cue to leave, we parted ways and began our journeys homebound, seeking shelter from the building storm. By the time I reached the end of my street, the strong smell of rain against hot concrete began to swell as the first of the large droplets began to fall. I continued my journey home letting the rain soak through my hair and my clothes, paying little attention to the sound of the cars sloshing through the rain as I enjoyed the thick, humid air.

As I approached the house, I remembered the state my truck was in. Groaning, I took a detour and climbed over the small garden fence and made my way over to the tool shed. I knew I couldn't start until the rain stopped, but it would be easier if I got everything I needed ready. As I exited the shed, tools in hand, I was immediately confronted by a voice yelling at me. Loud.

Startled, I dropped the tools from my grip and and as they fell into the dirt, a particularly heavy wrench landed on my foot. Crying out in pain and shock, my head whipped up to the source of the yelling, trying to make them out in the pouring rain.

"Get down!" The figure called out. "I said get on the ground now! Hands where I can see them!"