CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and FORTY-SEVEN
Monday mid-morning — 11:35 a.m.
Las Vegas, NV
“What am I missing here?” Jeraine asked in a low voice.
Jammy turned to look at Jeraine. Jammy’s eyes blinked as he thought. He held up his index finger to Jeraine and turned back to the man behind the desk.
“This is not what we agreed to,” Jammy said. “Not even close.”
The man behind the desk started talking. Jeraine felt his anxiety start to rise. The words flew fast and furious. Jammy shifted in his seat.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jammy said. “I need to speak with my client for a moment.”
“Of course,” the man said. “There’s a lot of language here. I can imagine its confusing for him.”
Jeraine gave the man a hard look. He started to say something but Jammy shuffled him out of the room. Jammy pressed, pulled, and pushing Jeraine into the bathroom. Jammy walked down the stalls to make sure that they were alone.
“What the fuck!” Jeraine said. “Did that man just say that I was stupid?”
“He did,” Jammy said. “He thinks you’re stupid.”
“Why are we here?” Jeraine asked. “You said that …”
“I know what I said,” Jammy said. “I know what I said. Hell, I know what I have in writing.”
Jammy walked down the length of the bathroom and back to Jeraine. He shook his head at Jeraine and walked back to the end of the bathroom.
“Makes my head hurt,” Jeraine said.
“I’m furious,” Jammy said.
Jeraine watched Jammy walk back and forth in the bathroom.
“I wish Miss T were here,” Jeraine said. “She would understand all of this. I wish …”
His head was pounding. He wet a paper towel and pressed it against his head. Jeraine’s head lowered and his hands pressed against the marble sink counter. Jeraine was trying to calm down when Jammy yelped in surprise.
Jeraine looked up through blurry eyes to see Hecate. She was wearing a white pencil skirt and a white silk shirt. There was a little red scarf died at her neck. She had on a pair of white pumps. Her curly hair was up in a French knot. The streak of blue and turquoise looked like a racing stripe.
“How’d you …?” Jeraine asked.
“Hedone told me to listen in,” Hecate said. “If you needed me …”
She put one hand on Jeraine’s forehead and another on the back of his head. After a few minutes, his head stopped pounding. The end of pain was such a relief that he was weak in the knees.
“None of that,” Hecate said. “Stand strong, Jeraine. We’ll get through this.”
She turned to see Jammy watching them closely. Jeraine splashed water on his face and stood up.
“Hecate,” she said, holding out her hand.
“As in the Titan responsible for witchcraft?” Jammy asked.
“As in a good friend of Heather’s,” Hecate said.
“Mine,” Jeraine said.
“How’d you …?” Jammy pointed to where she’d just appeared.
“Some things are without explanation, my dear James Schmidt V,” Hecate said. “Including why this job has fallen through. Any ideas?”
“Politics,” Jammy said. He leaned forward and whispered, “This guy got pressured from people with radical policies that include anti-black policies.”
“Anti-black?” Hecate asked. “What is black?”
“My skin,” Jeraine said.
“This is an issue?” Hecate asked. “The color of your skin?”
“Last three hundred years or so,” Jeraine said.
Scowling, Hecate shook her head.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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