Maxima!!

TRACK 08: PRECIOUS BOY

Though she took another swig of her energy drink, Ed couldn't stop another yawn from breaking loose. She pawed at her eye as she made her approach. A two-story house greeted her at the end of that cul-de-sac, and one that needed an army of handymen. Windows, boarded; walls, cracked and peeling; roof, a breeze away from collapse; she couldn't begin to guess what creatures slinked around that jungle of a lawn.

Ed waded through to the house's backside, and one of the largest wood-covered windows yet. "This takes me back," she muttered as she put a hand on the window. Even in her sleep-deprived state, she took in the sights of her childhood home. The memories flooded her in seconds -- memories she thought years of binge drinking had erased. Yet among the bad, a handful of good ones drifted to the surface. Once she tossed her can into a pile of garbage, Ed pulled out her phone and scrolled through. Did she still have it? Or had it gotten purged?

Yes. She still had it. She'd saved the picture she had taken the last time she visited home -- when she showed the place off to Rosie for laughs. They'd spent that whole day laughing it up, with that massive moron striking a pose while the cameraman struggled to keep her, and the house she had several inches on, in the frame. In hindsight, that guy needed payment for helping out. He got Rosie, but he captured Ed as well -- chill, yet smiling nonetheless.

She hadn't smiled like that in years.

Ed yawned again, then rubbed the back of her head as she started for her car. On a whim, she let her gaze wander to the downtown district. The cocktail of clouds and sunrise left skyscrapers in plum-hued silhouette, drowned in waves of magenta and orange. How big of a mess did you make this time? She ran a hand through her hair. Between the early hours and her general insomnia, Ed felt the irritation crawl up her body. Part of her regretted it.

She glanced back at her phone. It had more than pictures saved. Texts, too. Old ones from Rosie, with her avatar on tap: pink hibiscuses on a white field. Nearly every text she sent, sealed tight in carnation boxes, offered Ed some kind words. Encouragement. Jokes. Whatever that blonde idiot assumed would brighten up her day.

Only a handful led to conversations. Most went without a reply.

Ed reached for her flask. Before she could get a drop out, her phone rumbled to life. "Hey. This is Ed." She rocked in place as the caller spoke. "I've been keeping up with things. Best to wait until later for the full picture, though."

The caller pressed the subject.

Ed folded an arm. "It's the safest route." She looked back at the city. "Considering who we're dealing with? I go ham, I get crushed."

The caller's silence didn't last. Out came a barrage of orders.

Man, it's too early for this. Ed held up a hand, as if that would help. "I'm pretty good at being your eyes and ears. Can't we stick to that? I mean, I'm not about to boss the boss around. Just making a friendly suggestion."

The caller made an unfriendly response.

"So, the gist of it is that I should watch over her while you and your pals keep working. In other words, exactly what I was doing beforehand."

The caller asked a single, simple question.

Ed cut her eyes toward the phone. "Excuse me?"

The caller repeated the question.

Ed twitched; the spark that lit up inside her left her wide awake. "Hey. Think about this for a second. If we mess up, then we'll make a bad situation worse. Understand? Putting pressure on her now is --"

That got a response -- and soon after, a follow-up question.

Ed didn't answer. At most, she only stood there and gripped her phone tight. While she struggled to keep her legs from giving out, she kept that phone lodged in her ear -- because the caller hadn't stopped talking. Order after order flew her way, and only stopped for one reason: to ask for her compliance.