Page 2 of Ride the Lightning
“I wasn’t going to hurt her,” he said, struggling in Jonah’s embrace.
“Jonah, what’s going on?” Mrs. Ling asked from the front of the store.
“Call nine-one-one. This little bastard was about to rob you.”
“The gun isn’t loaded,” the guy repeated.
“People can’t tell that when they stare down the barrel, you little fuck face.”
The kid started to panic when he heard Mrs. Ling call 911, twisting and trying to break free. He stepped to the right and his foot landed in his puddle of piss. SWG’s feet slid out from under him, wrenching Jonah off balance. He released the guy’s hoodie to avoid slipping in the urine too. The prick went down hard, banging his head on the bottom of the shelf and knocking himself out.
“Huh,” Jonah said, staring down at the prone man. He checked the gun, confirming it wasn’t loaded, then tossed it onto the ground so the police would see it when they arrived. He didn’t want them to shoot him first and ask questions later.
Two patrolmen Jonah didn’t know responded to the call and quickly took over. Unfortunately for him, it meant he had to spend ninety minutes or longer answering questions. First with the patrol officers, and later, when the robbery detectives arrived on the scene. Some queries were legit, such as how he knew to look for trouble. Others were stupid, like when Officer Bauer asked why someone who worked for the GBI wasn’t carrying a gun.
“I’m a criminal analyst, not a field agent,” Jonah explained, hoping his annoyance wasn’t showing.
“Huh,” Bauer replied unenthusiastically.
Jonah could’ve taken the time to explain what he did for the bureau and the many ways he assisted SPD, but he wasn’t in the mood. He only wanted to eat his Caramel Bugles on the front porch and watch a thunderstorm. Was it too much to ask?
Apparently so, since he forgot to buy his guilty pleasure during his haste to leave. Jonah swore a blue streak but kept driving toward his house. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to pick up his Bugles and might even ensure that his stash lasted later in the week than Wednesday.
As soon as his house came into view, relief rushed in to ease the tension gripping his body. Jonah’s shoulders slumped, and he breathed easily for the first time since leaving home this morning. He’d purchased his two-story Folk Victorian home three years ago and fixed it up as he found time and money. The house had been structurally sound with a solid metal roof, but the exterior and interior had needed a shit ton of TLC. He’d hired a contractor to deal with the biggest projects, such as replacing the windows and siding on the house. Jonah had tackled the smaller tasks himself. He liked expending the physical energy and seeing the results of his labor. His favorite endeavor was sanding and painting the wraparound porch and trim. He’d chosen a bright white hue which nicely contrasted against the dove gray siding and the black metal roof. Jonah needed new outdoor furniture for his porch to finalize the exterior makeover, but his granny’s old rocking chairs would do for now. The interior, however, was another story. He’d upgraded the master suite and refinished the hardwood floors on both stories before he exhausted a good chunk of his savings. The kitchen was his next big project, but it would require a lot of capital, time, and sweat. He could make do with the raggedy cabinets and outdated tile a little longer. He’d at least updated the appliances, which was a huge expense out of the way.
When he turned into his driveway, Jonah’s headlights illuminated the front porch like a spotlight, revealing Miss Marla, Savannah’s legendary drag queen and his next-door neighbor, sitting in a rocking chair. She’d chosen a long, silver, satin nightgown with matching robe for her visit. The color looked amazing against her flawless dark skin. Beside her, a tall highball glass sat on the table, indicating she hadn’t planned a short visit. Marla lifted her arm to shield her eyes, so Jonah cut his headlights.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Jonah said when he got out of the car.
“People say the same thing about a herpes diagnosis,” Marla quipped, her husky voice laced with her affection for him. Jonah liked it much better than the disdain she’d treated him to when he’d first moved in. Marla had pegged him as just another white guy who was hell-bent on gentrifying her neighborhood. He’d won her over after time, and she’d become a dear friend.
Jonah smiled as he recalled the first time he’d seen a crack in the veneer of Marla’s contempt for him. He’d received mail addressed to Richard Bruce Barker once, and initially had thought it was a past owner until he’d noticed the address beneath the name. When Jonah took the envelope next door, Marla looked at the letter in her hands for several moments before meeting his gaze.
“These are my rules, and I expect you to obey them without question.” She’d paused long enough to raise a perfectly arched brow. How could someone communicate so much with one little action? Marla had wanted to know if she should continue speaking or save her breath. Jonah had nodded for her to go on. “When you see me dressed like this,” she’d said, gesturing to her red dress with white polka dots, “I expect you to call me Miss Marla or Marla. On the rare occasion you see me dressed as a man and not wearing a fabulous wig, you may address me as Ricky. Never Richard, Rick, and especially not Dick, unless you have plans to suck mine.” Jonah had bit his bottom lip to keep from chuckling. Marla hadn’t finished laying down the law though. “You will treat me with respect at all times. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jonah had said.
“And just because these are my rules does not mean they apply to all genderqueer people. Ask someone if you’re unsure which pronouns to use. Don’t be a jackass.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Marla tilted her head and studied Jonah’s face. She must’ve liked whatever she saw there because she stood aside, gestured for him to enter her home, and said, “Join me for coffee.” She didn’t ask or invite; she commanded, and he obeyed. Not much had changed since that fateful day.
In three years, Jonah had only seen Ricky twice. He was curious to know how old Marla was, but he’d never be stupid enough to ask. He figured a lady was entitled to her secrets.
Marla’s visit made him curious. Not so much because of the time, but because she’d chosen his porch to wait for him rather than her own. Their homes were close enough that she would’ve heard Jonah pull in without having to watch out the window for him. There was something in her voice, a wisp of sadness that made him push aside his exhaustion and frustrations as he dropped into the rocking chair beside her.
“Late night, isn’t it, darling?” Marla asked.
It was approaching ten, which wasn’t late for most people’s standards, but it was hours later than Jonah usually arrived home from work. “Meetings and more meetings.”
Marla shivered. “Sounds dreadful.”
Soul-crushing was a better adjective. “How was your day?”
“Very enlightening,” she replied. “I listened to the new true-crime podcast you are making with your friends. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I enjoyed it. The three of you have vastly different personalities, but you complement one another very well.” She sounded like an indulgent aunt or mother who acted as the sole audience member for a garage band’s private concert.
Sinister in Savannah, a podcast he’d created with his friends Rocky and Felix, a private detective and an investigative reporter, was the subject of much scorn during his meetings. It had debuted the previous week to rave reviews and was already trending in the top ten of true-crime podcasts. He’d had the deputy director’s blessing to participate, but Trexler thought it was a horrible idea. Jonah suspected Trexler’s animosity stemmed from jealousy over the attention the show garnered, rather than genuine concern Jonah would leak GBI secrets during the segments. Trexler had doubled down on making Jonah look like a fool by trying to discredit the work he did with Stella, the supercomputer with artificial intelligence Jonah had built from scratch. Trexler belittled his efforts and dismissed every conclusion Stella came up with after analyzing files.