All rights belong to Rick Riordan. I do not own any Percy Jackson-related content.
Isabelle blinked. This woman just said that she was glad that her father was dead.
What kind of monster would say something like that? Was she trying to antagonize her? What was her motive?
Why does she have on a suit? Isabelle felt sweat form on her forehead as she turned to her co-worker, Ethel.
"Hey, Ethel? Can I have some help over here?" Isabelle hated how desperate and shaky her voice sounded. Unfortunately, not only was Ethel on the other side of the long, semi-circular table, but she had her headphones in. She was slightly swaying to the music, which meant that she was listening to anything from Frank Sinatra to Beyoncé. Ethel had a very diverse music selection, so Isabelle learned a few months ago when Ethel forgot to plug her headphones in all the way.
The old woman in front of Isabelle continued to seethe. She then slammed her hands on the counter, an action that scared Isabelle into a standing position. Isabelle's vision started to go double. She became hyper-aware of the scents in the air and how bright the teal blue of the back wall was. The usually warm air started to become unbearably warm, like her tea from earlier this morning. The air became thick with anxiety.
Isabelle clutched her bag out of simultaneous fear and anger.
"Ma'am, I am going to have to ask you leave."
The woman immediately replied, "I am going to have to stay until my job is done."
Isabelle noticed marble of the counter beginning to crack under the woman's grip. Shatter lines began to snake their way towards Isabelle. Without breaking eye contact from this seemingly impossible feat of strength, Isabelle said slowly, "What…do you…want? Why are you here?"
The woman stopped squeezing and adjusted the cuffs on her old lady suit. "Well, I'm stalling you of course."
"Stalling?" Isabelle wondered if this old woman was part of an organized theft of the library. They hadn't had one of those in nearly seven months, though, and Isabelle was sincerely hoping that this would not break their streak. They were almost at 205 days without a robbery.
Isabelle dragged her eyes to the woman's cuffs, and then to the woman's waist area to check for the imprint of a weapon. If she got robbed or shot by an elderly woman, she'd never trust old people again.
She slowly put her hands up. "Ma'am, I don't want any trouble. If you're planning a robbery, I can promise you that the police will be here faster than you can get out the parking lot. They're right across the street."
The woman looked at her watch and waited a few seconds. She then readjusted her tie. "You're feisty. But fortunately, my job here is done. Have a good day, sweetie."
The woman then turned on her heel and promptly walked down the spiral staircase to the exit. Isabelle let out a huge exhale and nearly lost her balance. Luckily, she grabbed onto the chair to steady herself.
"You okay, sweetie?" Isabelle heard Ethel's strained voice behind her. Isabelle turned around and gave a quick nod.
"Yeah, thanks, Ethel. For all your help." Isabelle immediately regretted the amount of sarcasm that was injected into her words.
However, Ethel seemed to be oblivious. "No problem, Isabella."
"It's Isabelle," Isabelle noted with irritation. She couldn't get her mind off of the weird old woman and how she was trying to stall her for some reason. Isabelle switched her bag to her other hand, wiped her sweat on her pants, and exited from behind the desk. Her heart was beating.
Please don't let her still be in here, she thought to herself.
Isabelle descended the stairs slowly while stretching her neck to try and see over the railing. With no sign of the woman, Isabelle quickened her steps and headed to the main desk on the bottom floor. Her co-worker, Fernando, stood about ten feet behind the desk. When he noticed her approaching, he gave her a quick smile. His kind eyes and his…round figure always made her think of Santa Claus. Smile lines crinkled around his eyes and he was filing returned books away while making eye contact with Isabelle.
"Good afternoon, Isabelle. Heading out for the day?" He looked at her from behind his glasses, and she couldn't bear to lie to him.
"Yeah, I'm headed out for the day. It was an all right shift, save for a very scary encounter upstairs."
Fernando frowned and set the books he was filing on the floor. He moved closer to the desk as if Isabelle was a customer. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Isabelle took a breath and leaned forward. She lowered her voice to a whisper as she kept her head on a swivel. "There was an old woman who was wearing a suit. A suit. It was a pretty good suit, though, in all honesty. There was some linen and...anyway, she comes up to the desk and she refuses to leave. Within a span of two minutes, she has told me that she's glad my father has passed away, she cracked the counter of the upstairs desk, and she told me she refused to leave until her 'job is done.' What does that even mean?"
Fernando looked around as well. "That sounds horrible. My stars, are you okay?"
Isabelle straightened up and looked towards the front door. "Yeah, I'm okay. It was just weird and I thought she was an accomplice in an attempt to rob us."
"Again?" Fernando's voice sounded slightly exasperated. Isabelle felt bad dropping this on him, because he had an extensive reserve of patience. He was always one of the best employees the library had during summer camp seasons, because he always seemed to have a smile for everyone who took the time to visit the library.
Isabelle nodded. "But she didn't rob us, I don't think. Have you seen anything?"
Fernando opened a draw underneath the counter and pulled out a blue lollipop. "Here. I hope this makes you feel better. Take off tomorrow, too, make sure you feel better. And I have not seen anything, but I will keep an eye out and keep the police on speed-dial. No one is stealing from this place today."
Isabelle felt like one of the campers when she took the lollipop. Fernando was so awesome. "Thanks, Fernando. Call me if you need anything."
Fernando gave a kindly smile. "Don't tell your mother that I gave you a lollipop! Also, say hi to her for me."
Isabelle turned and waved to him as she walked out. She took her phone out, set her bag down, and made a call to her mother while she unlocked her bike from the rack. The call went straight to voicemail and Isabelle ended the call. Her heart began to beat faster.
Her mother always had her phone on.
Isabelle called again frantically, and this time, waited for the voicemail beep to sound. "Hey, Mom! Just calling to tell you this wild story of what happened, but there's something wrong with your phone. Getting very scared. Thank you for the bagel! I shouldn't have said anything about the…the bagel, so never mind, but please, uh, call me back when you get this message. Just want to make sure you're okay."
Isabelle finally freed her bike from the rack, slung the strap of her bag around her left shoulder, and began to peddle as hard as she could. Her heart was beating quickly enough to match the cadence of her pedaling. The wind blew by her face, but she didn't feel any happiness or exhilaration. She knew that it was crazy, but that weird, super strong old woman really got to her.
Isabelle zoomed into the forest. She was going so quickly that her heavy bag was blowing behind her in the wind. She heard the quick crunches of the green-brown leaves she was rolling over as she was riding. Soon, she reached the house and her heart dropped to her stomach.
There were police cars and an ambulance around the front of the house.
There were medics rolling a gurney into the ambulance.
Isabelle had trouble seeing who was on the gurney. That is, until she saw a flash of bright red hair.
Mom.
Isabelle got off her bike and let it fall. She dropped her bag and sprinted towards the gurney. When she was ten feet away, she was blocked by a wall of black. It was a police officer, who held his palm out to her as if to say, Nope. No way. Stay back.
"Stay back, hon," he said in a commanding voice that seemed rehearsed. Isabelle straightened up. She was tall, nearly five foot nine, and her height usually intimidated people. But this guy seemed to be well over six feet. His sunglasses reflected none of the forest's colors.
Isabelle tried to manage the anger welling up in her as she looked past the man and at her house. She then focused her attention on the officer.
"My name is not 'hon.' It's Isabelle. This is MY house and THAT-"
She pointed at the ambulance that was now closing its back doors. "-is my mother! Now let me go!"
The officer was about to respond when a woman of about the same height came up to him. She was dressed in a dress shirt tucked into dress pants, and a black peacoat. She seemed to be a plainclothes police officer. She put her hand on the officer's shoulder, and whispered, "I got this, Jim. Go help out Forensics with the DNA sampling."
The officer's sunglasses seemed to glint in disapproval as he stepped away. Isabelle saw the ambulance pulled away onto the dirt road in front of the house and drove away. Isabelle watched the ambulance go longingly, and then turned back to the woman.
The woman looked down at Isabelle. She had charcoal-gray eyes that caught Isabelle off-guard. They were intense, and Isabelle realized that this was the first time she had ever met another person with gray eyes. Isabelle's eyes were always a dark gray, like thunderstorm clouds. According to her mother, her eyes would move like a tornado when she was thinking about something serious. Isabelle hated her eye color, though, she always wanted blue or green eyes, eyes that were more approachable.
However, this cop didn't seem intimidated in the least by Isabelle. She didn't even blink.
"Detective Pallas. I'm going to need you to leave the premises."
"No. That's my mother right there."
Looking at this detective's gray eyes, she felt her body start to itch. The wind began to blow harder, and for a second, it seemed like the two of them were the only ones out there among the trees. But Isabelle didn't flinch. She maintained eye contact and she felt her face gradually tighten in irritation. After a moment, the officer's gray eyes softened just slightly. She leaned forward so her mouth was near Isabelle's ear and muttered, "Your mother should be all right, she was attacked by a Ker."
A Ker?
"What's a Ke-"
Detective Pallas continued, lowering her voice to a near whisper. "Though their poison is usually deadly, it can only be cured by the power of at least a minor deity. Apollo convinced me to help him save his favorite Oracle, so we created this medicine. It contains some ambrosia and some divine Olympian honey in it. Make sure she takes it by tonight."
What is going on?
"Wait, Apollo? A minor deity? What is going on, who are—"
Detective Pallas took Isabelle's hand and slipped her a tiny bottle. Inside the bottle was a glowing golden liquid. "She will be at St. Joseph's Medical Center. Take your bike and go there. I will have this area cleared out by tonight."
Isabelle had no idea what was going on. But looking at Detective Pallas, she believed that she was telling the truth. Isabelle took a step back and began to jog to her bag.
After a few steps, though, she turned and looked at Detective Pallas. "What is going on? I need some answers."
Detective Pallas put her hands in her pockets and bore into Isabelle's eyes. Pallas' gray eyes seemed to almost glow. "I know this is a lot. And I know you must be confused. Be careful in your search for answers. They are all around you, and once you know where to look, you will be forever changed. You may never be able to return to the way you were."
Isabelle blinked and swallowed. She nodded and went to her bag. She put the liquid in it and slung the bag over her left shoulder. She turned to look at Detective Pallas one more time, but there was no one there anymore. A few leaves just blew around the area she was in.
This was definitely the weirdest day she has had in a long time. Isabelle then ran to her bicycle and turned on the GPS on her phone. She took one last look at her house, took a breath, and started pedaling away.