Chapter 6 - Latisha

"What now?" she asked, her head down, reading yet another meaningless document she had to sign, file, and then forget about it. The door opened on one of the young deputy. Sheriff Cooper was intimidating. Being one of the only two black women sheriff in the entire state meant that she had had to fight twice as hard and twice as long in order to get where she was now. Although her skills and her good character made her fit for the job, she knew she had to also thank her predecessors for their inaptitude and corruption charges that ended up costing them their job. When she had bad days, she thought that maybe it was not such a great achievement. She was just better than the dumbest racist sheriff that came before her. She had to clean up so much shit when she arrived, that she got the reputation to be strict and unforgiving. Which was a shame, because she did not plan to be any of these things at first. But along the way, between the bad investigations, the blatant ignorance of the behaviour code and the desperation of the local population, she had to hit hard.

The deputy staid silent and Latisha sighted "What?" and the young man seemed to suddenly wake up. "Hum… Sheriff, there's old Lionel asking to talk to you…" he said, visibly annoyed of having to bring such a news. Lionel was not a hardened criminal nor he was a frail victim. If anything, Lionel was not frail. But he was a familiar face of the sheriff's office. During his fifty years living in the area, he had owned a garage in Wood Burrow a long time ago, and he was now enjoying his retired life, spending his weekends fishing, hunting and spending few hours a week complaining about pretty much everything. Lionel was not a counsellor and was not even a lawyer or an esteemed member of the community. He just held his views and opinions so high that he honestly thought that the highest authority deserved to hear them. Having been forbidden to come close to two of the city counsellors, he settled for the sheriff's office a couple of times a week.

Lionel was paranoïd. He actually believed sincerely everything he was saying and the birth of the web made it possible for him to find people who shared his views and his numerous theories about pretty much everything. Having that invisible reassurance from people he had never seen in his life was comfortable. Some people - a lot actually - may sometimes call him a crazy or a lunatic, but he was harmless. Noisy and stubborn, but harmless. The web had increased his audience but had also given him new reasons to be suspicious. Millions of videos and articles were available, giving information about secret conspiracies everywhere. It was a new era and Lionel was resolute to warn everybody about the imminent danger of… Well... Everything. One surprising aspect of his obsession was that it did not discriminate. His recent quarrels were: the secret conspiracy to put Fruit Loops in front of Big Bran in the general store, involving probably international manipulations and the Bilderberg Group ; the new antenna in the middle of one of the pumpkin farm, said to be there for better phone reception, but which was certainly, without the shadow of a doubt, there to spy on everybody, especially him ; the Sleepy Wolverine, the pub where he was eating twice a day, which had taken out of their menu the sweet potato soup and added curly fries, which sounded like an absurd decision and, as a result, deserved to be investigated ; the new church that had bought some land and some old abandoned churches which could only be full of government agents trying to identify and locate communists… There were other things on Lionel's list - it was a long one - but these were his main issues at the moment. And today, he was here for the later.

"Lionel?" asked Latisha as she walked to the reception area. The old man was standing straight, papers, as always, in his right hand, and a backpack always full of numerous things. When she had just arrived in the area as the new sheriff, she tried to make him open his bag to check if he had not brought something dangerous every time. They had found a lot of peculiar objects and documents, but nothing that could do any harm. Dried food, metal detectors, geiger counters, calculators, gloves… Every time, it had been a waste of time and resources as it usually involved a couple of deputies to go through all of his belongings.

The man in itself was of medium size and good condition. He was usually investigating all of his theories himself, which meant that he was walking a lot. Somehow, his paranoia was keeping him in good shape. His left hand was paralysed since his birth but he was very dexterous and precise. He had a very good diction that made him sound like a professor or somebody very smart. He also had very good manners, which made it difficult to simply ignore him or tell him to go away. He only ever lost his temper when he thought he was talking to people part of one of his conspiracy theories.

"Sheriff." he nodded politely. "Why are you here today?" asked the woman, visibly a bit tired. "Well… I have been observing that new group in town, Eden's Gate…

- Yes?

- They are strange.

- I already told you Lionel, being strange, or weird or looking like a government agent is not a an offense or a crime.

- I know, I know, you were very clear about that in the past, he said while twisting his mouth in a weird grimace.

- Is that all Lionel?

- No. I saw them with guns.

- Were they threatening you?

- No no, but I saw them walking, with guns on their shoulders in a menacing way."

Latisha sighted. They were in an open carry state. Pretty much anybody could walk around with a rifle without being arrested. The issue with stopping anybody she thought might be a danger was that she would need to justify why she did not stop anybody else walking with a gun that day. Hunters were common as well as preppers and gun fanatics. They have had issues in the past. People using their weapons to threaten somebody they did not like, or shots fired by mistake in the direction of houses or gatherings… Nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing that could justify the sheriff to go against a federal law.

"Lionel, you would need to have proof that they were menacing in some way… Were they pointing their guns towards anybody?

- No… But it looked like they could've…

- Okay, Latisha tapped the reception desk with her hand, well if you actually see them actually using their guns outside of a private property and endangering people's lives, you can come back and tell us, okay?

- Okay… Lionel looked disappointed. And what about the antenna? Did you investigate like I told you to?

- It's in progress.

- I have…, he started putting his back on the floor in order to check something inside, … I have some documents of blueprints used by the military to listen to conversation…

- Lionel… I am busy. Why don't you leave them at the reception and they will give them to me later.

- Okay kay."

Latisha returned to her office in order to not give any more space for Lionel to waste her time. She glanced as the receptionist was getting a big pile of paper from the old man and she closed her door quickly. She had been in the force for around twenty years and was now in her forties. And yet, she had never felt the wish to flee the presence of someone as strongly as she did with Lionel. It was not so much that he was delusional but the fact that he seemed to never be able to stop. Even the most annoying criminal she had to deal with did not elicit this kind of reactions in her. Sometimes she was thinking that maybe it was because she knew she would finish her existence here, retire here and see and hear Lionel for the rest of her life.

Later, in her car, driving home, she turned the music off. The streets spreaded far ahead, almost completely empty. The few shops were closing down and as she drove by the Sleepy Wolverine, she could hear and see people gathering in the pub. She hanged around there sometimes but it was always difficult to really relax. In a big city, she would simply be able to drive far enough to find a place where nobody knew her. Here, she would be the sheriff for the rest of her life, even after retiring. People would always be careful or suspicious, it was the kind of thing that came with the job.

Further West, as the road went side by side with a river, her eye caught something unusual. When she arrived a couple of years ago, a lot of building rested, abandoned, in ruins in the middle of the vegetation and the streets. Some of them were tall white churches. It had been a long time since most of the paint has peeled off. The vivid heat, the bare human presence on the land, the generous yet dry nature had given to the place a strange solemnity, as if the crumbled walls were the carcass of somebody. Somehow, you could feel something looking at you. Maybe the reflection of something you projected yourself on it?

But today, that old busted church was inhabited… Or, more precisely, invaded. People were around it, transporting pieces of wood and boxes. Latisha did not recognise them. Some of them were getting out of the half-collapse structure, carrying some rubbles. Something inside of her told her to check. The heads of the strangers turned towards her with inquiring eyes. She did not even noticed that she had pulled over. She got out of her car, still wearing her sheriff's jack and hat. At forty, Latisha did not look like the cute and pampered house wifes we could sometimes see in the countryside. Most housewives here, anyway, did not look like the stereotypes either. Hardened by the dry soil and backbreaking farm work, they all looked like centuries old portraits of old settlers. With her strong figure and her unforgiving eyes, Latisha did not look like a housewife. She had the attitude and the figure of a leader. There was a natural strength emanating from her. Anybody with half a brain respected her. Whether it be friends or foes, ignoring her or diminishing her was a mistake. She had a sharp eye and was very good at gauging somebody on the spot. She was rarely wrong.

Right now, the people facing her seemed to be between their twenties and their forties. None of their faces were familiar. They did not look like a Prayer Group nor did they look like looters of any sort. And to loot what? Old bibles? Broken benches?

One man approached. He looked thirty at the most, short brown hair, beard. He was wearing a brown waistcoat, a white shirt and a pair of jeans. His boots were muddy but looked expensive. He had a smile in the corner of his lips which gave him the look of a car salesman. The kind of look Latisha did not like. He walked up to her and extended his hand to shake hers. "Good evening Sheriff, how are you? Are you having a good day?" something was off. For no clear reason and no apparent sign, she hated him and she wanted to just tell him to fuck off. But at the same time, she was curious and wanted to know who they were and what they were doing here. She forced herself to shake his hand, without going soft on her grip. He had soft and small hands and seemed a bit surprised by her strength. "What are you doing here? Do you have the proper documents to be here?" the man smiled. He had a childish face. Now Latisha could recognise the cheeky eyes of her son in his. Something that further her dislike towards him. He raised his index and said "One second, I'll get them. Do you want some coffee?" and he left, without waiting for the answer and gestured to a woman who was standing there with a big box. She put in on the ground and walked towards a table that was hidden from the road, containing thermos and cups.

Latisha walked up slowly, observing everything around her. The rest of the group went back to whatever they were doing. They were apparently trying to fix the place. Quickly she got a cup of coffee in her hand. The woman resumed her task after that, the sheriff following her with her eyes. That's when the annoying man returning. "Name's John by the way. John Seed. We just arrived in the area." he had a couple of papers in his hands. "Sheriff Cooper." she said, keeping the coldest face she could make. Finally, after looking quickly through the paperwork, the man pulled one out. "Here." he said with a wide smile, revealing his white teeth. Latisha scanned quickly the paper. She knew they had the right to be here. She could feel it. Pretending to be reading she asked lightly "And what are you planning to do with this pile of wood?" John chuckled as if she was being funny and said "Oh, this is not a pile of wood. We are going to rebuild the church and invite people in it. It would be such a waste to let such precious places rotting like that." Latisha's eyes met his. For a second she thought she could have detected a hint of contempt. But it was gone. She assumed that it was just her strong aversion for the man that made her see corroborating signs… "Okay, well, good luck with that." she answered before giving the paper and her undrunk coffee back and walking back to her car. Before she stepped into her vehicule she heard his voice one more time "Have a good evening Sheriff." Her strange feeling, irritation, curiosity and worry, still weighed on her stomach. As she drove away in her car, she did not see John Seed pouring her coffee on the ground, his smile frozen, hiding a wary look.