The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

them inside, then closed the door behind. “This way.” She went to a couch and waited for them to sit. Taking a seat, she placed the book on a glass-top coffee table before them. The book’s title read Tuesdays with Morrie. Beside the book was a tray carrying a pot, cups, and saucers.

As if she saw what Gabriel was looking at, she asked. “Fancy some peppermint tea?”

“No, thanks. We just ate,” Gabriel lied.

“Then you must have some.” She poured out two cups, not spilling a drop. “It has both peppermint and spearmint, and a splash of ginger extract and honey. It’s good for your stomach. My son loves it.”

Gabriel took a cup, but Bill did not touch his. As he sipped the tea, he observed the walls around which displayed more of Iris’s charity work. There was a black and white photo of young Iris in a wedding gown, arms hooked to a tall black man. They looked happy. Then his eyes moved to the next photo, a colored one. Iris and another black man in front of a church. He was athletic, his eyes the hue of a clear sky.

In spite of the warm liquid soothing his digestive track, Gabriel felt a vile bile rise up his throat. Was that murdering demon really born to this angel?

“Is that your son, ma’am?” Bill asked, his voice shaky.

“Me with a handsome man at a church?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yes. That’s St. Peter’s Basilica. My son took me to Europe in 1993.”

Must be from the money Ryatt robbed in Staten Island. The robbery that pulled Joshua into this mess, ultimately ending with his head exploding inside a burlap sack.

Iris continued. “He explained the statues to me, their geometries and colors—”

“How do you know to imagine?” Bill asked, his voice a bit harsh.

“What do you mean?” Iris asked, frowning.

Gabriel shook his head but Bill asked the next question nonetheless. “I mean how do you know what is blue or white or red?”

“I wasn’t born blind,” Iris blurted.

Gabriel deflated while Bill continued the assault, “You were blinded forty-two years ago, when you gave your eye to Ryatt?”

Iris’s mouth parted a little.

Bill proceeded to tell her what they had learned during their drive from the Children’s Hospital. Conor researched the other kid who had gone blind with Ryatt, the one on the front page of the Detroit Free Press. His name was Nicholas Brown, aka Nick. Conor used his FBI magic and sent his phone number to Gabriel.

Nick had said that his mother, Loraine, never stopped talking about Iris because she was the purest soul ever. Unlike Nick, who got his corneas from some Chinese guys, Iris had said that it was wrong and gave her own sight to Ryatt. The corneal transplantation was botched, making her permanently blind.

And the mere thought that Lolly was her son, living with her, infuriated Gabriel. Though Iris didn’t have vision, it was Lolly that made her blind, by doing what he did behind her back.

Iris listened to Bill with a stern face, and when he finished, she turned to Gabriel. “I don’t know what your friend is talking about.”

Gabriel said, “W-we aren’t here to establish the law, ma’am. I actually think what you did is the noblest thing.”

Iris’s face softened. “Yes. Ryatt has my eye. It is my eye and I gave it to my son. Law has no business telling me not to. Imagine that you go blind and your parents have an option to give their eyes to you, they would do it without a thought.”

“I agree,” Gabriel said. Joshua really would.

“So why are you here?” she asked, her warm and hospitable demeanor eroded, thanks to Bill.

While Gabriel winced and got ready for the truth to break Iris, Bill said, “We’re reaching out to people who might be witness to a carjacking.”

Gabriel exhaled. He knew this scenario was something he needed to face one day or another, but he wished it was later rather than sooner.

“Carjacking?” Iris asked, as if she didn’t buy into the story.

“It’s really important that we talk to him, ma’am.” Bill’s tone became authoritative. “Tell us where your son is.”

“I don’t know. His job requires him to travel.”

Bill let out a contemptuous chuckle. “It sure does.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man!”

Gabriel, feeling like a kid watching his mom and older brother argue, jumped in. “Do you have Ryatt’s phone number?”

“He is a busy man. I’d rather you didn’t disturb him.”

Bill’s eyes fluttered to an old landline phone in a corner table. He pushed himself up and walked towards it. Leaning his entire weight on his crutch, he opened the drawer under.

Was he searching for a phonebook? Why would a blind woman with such a remarkable memory need one?

Iris’s face twisted in indignation, and her voice shook as she spoke. “Don’t go snooping around the house of a kind person who let you in and served you tea. You’ve outstayed your welcome.” She turned in Gabriel’s direction. “Both of you.”

Bill returned to the table, empty-handed. “But the—”

“I will give you Ryatt’s phone number when you hand me a warrant. Make sure it is braille.”

Gabriel said, “I apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am.”

As they left, Bill stopped near her. “Sorry, Mrs. Durant,” he said, his voice breaking.

Iris acknowledged with a curt nod but said nothing.

As the door closed behind them, Gabriel spotted a Land Rover passing through. Hadn’t he seen that car somewhere? He squinted at the plate.

It read 80085.

Chapter 37

May 12, 2019. 12:31 A.M.

 

Gabriel was gazing at the ceiling fan, thinking about the Land Rover. How did they sniff their way to Durant’s residence? The house where Lolly, the person the Detroit Alliance was searching for thirty-eight years, lived.

Ever since Gabriel had met Roman and publicized