the last TANGERINES before silence

Belinda's Neighbor Has Very Disturbing News

Chapter 3

The most recent, comprehensive national study reports that approximately 800,000 children younger than 18 were reported missing in the current reporting period. It’s ghastly, it really is.  What is wrong with America? What is wrong with us that we can read that number and not be surprised, also, that we can read that statistic and not lose our minds over the term approximately.

Approximately?  This is not a figure to take lightly.  This is deadly serious because if the authorities can even accurately report how many children are missing then how in the hell do they expect to get them safely to back their families. 

Belinda’s condo was approximately 1400 square hundred feet.  Her weight was approximately 150 lbs, She’d dated approximately nine men in her life, had sex with six of them and been engaged twice. By her approximation she’d would have been a partner at the firm in less than three years and would never marry. Certain not to marry now, or make partner. Belinda settled into a deep funk that turned into a deep fugue and despite what her acquaintances thought of her, she was “Belinda Invisible”.

Approximately 200,000 were abducted by a family member.  That’s what she heard coming from the widescreen.  It was pumped on speakers through the entire condo so she could listen to the news while she cooked, if she ever decided to. It was handy when she showering.  She also liked record seasons of popular television series and watch them an entire season at a time.  She didn’t like suspense.  She didn’t enjoy waiting a week to find out what would happen next.  She was so impatient that she had trouble waiting in line to get coffee.  She was mindlessly taking off her stockings, enjoying that tingly feeling on her legs and feet when she got the strangest sense of urgency.  Had something happened, like nationally, she wondered? If she’d only let that feeling go and gotten into the shower or masturbated or even suffered a complete power outage she’d be happy now.

Far to inquisitive, too determined to have the best information; she clicked rewind on the remote in three sharp stabs until the reporter’s face filled the screen.  Belinda used to be a news junkie. It had been the familiar voice, something in the voice warranted her attention.  She seemed very upset or at least concerned about something she was reporting.   Firmly paused and waiting for her, wrapped in a silk gown and robe, she went to the kitchen’s freezer and retrieved the only vice she ever indulged in.  She was a fiend for expensive potato vodka’s.  She’d finished the last of the Polish stuff yesterday, she’d buy more of that.  Tonight she’d complete the ritual with Grey Goose.  She poured herself a generous shot and placed it on the granite counter.  She poured another measure into her shaker, and dumped several large chunks of ice and half a lemon & rine into the shaker, shaking it vigorously.  After pouring the strained vodka into martini glass she put it on the counter and opened a package of sour lemonheads.  She licked one of the tart candies and drank her shot. Like every other night since college, she dropped the sour candy into the martini and planned on winding down. 

She settled onto the sofa and pressed play. “...missing and exploited children spokesperson tells our investigative reporter that of 200,000 kidnappings only 115 are considered ‘typical kidnappings’ meaning that the child was taken by a stranger, transported more than fifty miles or more, that intends to ransom the child,  intends to hold that child indefinitely, or intends to kill the child.”

Sipping the martini, she pressed the GUIDE button on the remote to peruse the offerings, she intended to listen until something caught her eye. Trying to decide between a serious documentary about something called the TEDtalks or something seriously funny- Richard Pryor’s last concert Belinda was struck with that feeling again.  She was missing something.  She had missed something. Her intuition had paid for this condo and everything in it.  So she stabbed the REWIND button five times.  She gave her neighbor her undivided attention. She raised the martini but put down without having any. Not yet.