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Ambivalent by Stefanie G. Torres (18)

 

Knees aching, I dragged myself out of the elevator and slowly made my way to the front door of my apartment. I was wiped out, which was depressing considering this was the first time off my butt in days. The fight with the squirrels and the encounter with Kean had left me exhausted.

Unlocking the front door, I pushed it open. As I crossed the threshold into my apartment, my foot caught something on the floor and I kicked it into the entryway. A small black box with a raffia bow, had become butted up against the bottom of the foyer table. My name was written on the top corner in metallic silver print.

I wasn’t expecting any packages.

I gazed at it for a minute then picked it up, headed into the kitchen and set it on the countertop. No sooner had I removed my hand from the box, it shook, which sent me a foot back from where I originally stood.

What the hell was in there?

Apprehensively scanning the package, I crept around the counter, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I twisted off the lid and gulped half the bottle as I watched for more movement. I had a bad feeling I was walking into some sort of trap; however, my inquisitive nature was driving me to find out what was inside.

I snatched it off the counter and ripped the raffia bow. The lid lifted straight off. It only took a second for my brain to register what I saw. Screaming, I flung the entire package across the kitchen. It bounced off a wall and landed on its side spilling a large centipede onto the tiled floor—black segmented body, red head, yellow legs and all.

The momentum must have stunned the insect. Or maybe it was thinking because it sat frozen like one of those plastic bugs for sale in a children’s toy store. Still, I wasn’t about to walk over and verify its authenticity.

I kept my eyes glued to its hundreds of legs as I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the emergency maintenance number for the apartment complex. Afraid my voice would stir the creature, I quietly explained the situation and begged the building’s custodian to use his keys to enter the apartment. I was terrified if I walked away it would disappear never to be found.

It took a little under five minutes for the front door to open. A uniformed man in his early twenties, dressed in the standard light blue polo with the apartment logo embroidered on the front, walked in carrying a small, mesh net.

“Ms. Thompson, I’m Steve. Show me where it is and I can take care of it for you,” he said.

“I hate to tell you this, but I think you’re going to need a bigger net,” I muttered pointing to the floor.

“Holy shit. Pardon my language, ma’am, but that’s a huge centipede. I haven’t seen one that big before. Pretty nasty trick for someone to send that sucker to you.”

Yeah, I hadn’t seen one that big either. I considered telling him I got the feeling it wasn’t sent as a joke but didn’t see how that would make the situation disappear faster.

Sidling up to the bug, Steve squatted and slapped the net tightly over it. I wrung my hands as I watched it wiggle a section of its body still outside the rim.

“Do you have a box with a lid? Preferably something deep with smooth walls so it doesn’t get a grasp when it tries to crawl out.” 

I warily eyed the net and stuck to the edges of the kitchen as I slid past the guy and opened the laundry room closet. Pulling out an empty plastic bin with a lid, I handed it to him and rushed away.

Steve speedily scooped up the net and dropped the entire thing into the bin, quickly slapping the lid on top. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He stood and grinned.

“No, no thank you. Just make sure you get rid of it somewhere far, far away from here. I don’t even want the bin back. Throw it in the dumpster.”

“Yes ma’am.” He laughed as he walked out the door taking the bug and bin with him.

As soon as the door shut, I made my way to the black box and tapped the edge of my shoe against it. When nothing else crawled out, I picked it up and looked inside.

The corner of a folded piece of paper was curled up. Pulling it out, I took a look.

The official logo for Summit High School was printed in large block lettering at the top. Kean Bennett’s name was written in blue ink to the left side of the page.

I knew what this was. It was a school record for Kean.

The body of the page detailed the incident Stuart had told me about. It described how Tina Garza had been found in a classroom severely shaken with several injuries. She had immediately named Kean as her attacker. There had also been two witnesses. They each had seen Kean leaving the room minutes before the girl was discovered. One was a biology teacher but it was the second witness that had my hand tapping at my sternum.

Stuart Whitman.

Stuart was the second witness who had confirmed Kean was in that classroom. Not once in all the times we’d spoken did he mention he had been a witness to Kean’s involvement. He had again held back information. True, it wasn’t as big as failing to tell me he went to high school with Kean but I felt like being a witness was a pretty crucial piece.

Shaking my head, I kept reading.

When questioned by school authorities, Kean had admitted to losing his temper. That was it. Nothing else was written about his confession. The last couple of sentences was about how Kean had been arrested by local authorities but official charges had been dropped by the girl’s parents. The school placed Kean on suspension for two weeks.

With shaking hands I flipped the paper over.

There were three condemning sentences written on the back that were clearly a message for me. “Stupid cunt. I warned you to do your job. Fail again and you may not get another chance.”

My mind raced as I reread those hate filled words. In a complete panic, my thoughts flipped around in my head like water on a hot griddle. Dr. Duarte had killed a patient. Kean had assaulted a young girl. Kean was keeping a mountain of secrets. A centipede left on my doorstep. Being threatened. Not getting another chance.

Rushing to the front door, I locked both deadbolts and leaned back against it.

Shit. They knew where I lived.

They knew where I lived and they were not happy I hadn’t made a move to discredit Dr. Kean Bennett.