Page 11 of They Call Me Wicked

“Blasted idiots. Did she go with Manna-Green like I told you guys? They’re amazing at what they do and that doesn’t sound like them.”

“Nah. Her mother made her choose the place that did hers when she was married. She’s really regretting it now.” Officer Bass’s aura is unaffectedly calm as he makes small talk with me. He’s one of the newbies on the force and is a complete and total lovable puppy of a person. His secrets have thus far been only a hidden love for musicals and his inability to pronounce the word cinnamon. He’s one of the good ones.

I don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, and his nonchalance at anything that would bother a normal person makes him somewhat of a friend to me. As much of a friend as I could possibly ever have anyways. He can put up with my bullshit, that’s all I’m saying. And his fiancée, Katie, is just as sweet and easy going as he is.

“Fucking excuse me! Isaidthis bitch and her beasts attacked me! Aren’t you going to do something about that?” The beer-bitch decides to interrupt and I let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Sorry about this, Bass. I didn’t want anyone to call you guys.”

“That’s alright, Wicked. I was bored anyways. Just wait a few minutes while I take some statements and we can get you out of here, alright?”

“You’re the best!” I beam at him before turning to Nana. “Can we sit somewhere? I’m a little sore.”

And I really am. I didn’t realize just how much pain I’m in until I brought my attention to it. An open cut on my forehead is burning along with the ache of my nose though, thankfully, it doesn’t feel broken. My sides and limbs ache like they’ve been pulverized, and I know I’m going to be bruised to all hell tomorrow. Even my damn fingers throb like they were slammed with a mallet.

I got my ass fucking whooped. Yay. Insert mega eye-roll here.

My nana leads me to a chair, depositing my groaning form into it before she shuffles off. Whatever it is that she’s about to do will show Officer Bass just where I got my meddlesome traits from.

Gizmo scurries around like a hyped up guard dog, hissing and growling at anyone who gets too close to us, allowing me to sit in peace while waiting for Bass to get to me. Snitch stays wrapped around my head, his tail covering the mangled scars on my eyes and giving me the confidence not to hide my face and instead keep my chin up and spine straight.

I can’t help it. It’s one thing to be blind, it’s another for everyone to see the physical evidence of the fact. When my scars are hidden by one of the many pairs of sunglasses from my collection, I can pretend I’m normal. Not that I’m ashamed to be blind, that’s not it at all. The scars are just…different. It’s different.

I don’t know how long I’m sitting there patiently awaiting my turn to make a statement–ignoring the many gazes I sense trained in my direction–when the worst possible thing happens.

“Wicked!”

“Ah fuck…” I mutter under my breath as Alan’s voice reaches my ears. Gizmo and Snitch bounce around slightly, their excited squeaks a direct contrast to the dread filling me. “Who called the boss? C’mon! Cops are one thing, but does this really require the chief?!”

“Sorry, Wicked. We all have strict orders to report to Mr. Richards when it has anything to do with you. Just doing my job.” Officer Bass’s voice comes from only a few feet away and I groan at him, trying and failing to drop my head into my hands as Snitch squeaks out a protest, reminding me he’s still on my shoulder and half wrapped around my face.

“What the hell is going on here, Wicked? You look like shit.” Alan is all gruffy and huffy as he makes his way closer to me, his aura frazzled and a bit out of sorts.

I know…I’m like super fucking eloquent.

“Not my fault, Apple-Dumpling. I was just enjoying a night out with Nana, minding my own business, when the fire nation attacked. I didn’t even get all my food yet. Ryan, where’s my food?!” I yell out, hoping Ry’s in hearing distance. Food makes everything better.

“On it, Wicked!”

“That’s my boy!” I yell out, pounding my fist on my chest before shooting the peace sign in his direction. A chuckle sounds from Bass before he clears his throat and his aura fades in strength as he walks away. “Seriously, Chief. Take it easy on the kid. He’s a good one and he doesn’t need your fugly mug glaring at him for enjoying my awesomeness.”

“Can it, Wicked. Wanna tell me what happened now? The whole story.”

“Ugh, fine!” Resting my temple on my hand, careful not to displace Snitch, I launch into my version of the events with grade A police level detail. Alan has no reaction the entire time, just standing silently as I regale him with the tale all detached and logical like.

“And then this astronomical bitch tries to come at me again like the fucking Tazmanian devil on crack, but the good citizens of Manna County held her crazy ass back so she couldn’t get at me again, and that’s when Officer Bass showed up. It was fucking nuts, Sweetcheeks. Like nuttier than a squirrel before winter.” I finally end my monologue, fighting back the need to bow like I just finished a magnificent performance on broadway.

Damn, that needs a round of applause if I do say so myself.

“Is that it?” Alan asks, his voice heavy and tired.

“Sir, yes, sir!” I salute him to the best of my ability with Snitch still wrapped around my head.

“Why is it always you, Wicked?” He sighs, his aura drained and barely pulsing anything.

“I didn’t want to get my ass kicked, Chief. I just wanted to break my thumb whooping my nana at bowling, fill my stomach with all the fatty, bad-for-me foods, and relax a little before the fucking torture that tomorrow will be.” I sigh loudly before tuning into his aura more directly. “Sleeping on the couch, eh? What did you do?”

“None of your business, kid. Let me get this cleaned up so you can go home, alright? No more adventures tonight.”

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