Free Don't Kill the Messenger by Eileen Rendahl Page B

day or night. If you change your mind, let me know.” He stood up and headed back to the door to the apartment.
     
I glanced down at the card with its police department seal on it. That was enough to remind why I didn’t want that hand on me or anywhere near me. Cops were trouble for someone like me. There was no way around it. “There’s nothing to change,” I said. “I’m telling you the truth.”
     
“Yeah,” he said, opening the door, looking faintly disappointed. “Sure. And flying unicorns are going by the window.”
     
I knew that wasn’t true. Unicorns can’t fly. It’s a common misconception. People seem to mix them up with Pegasus all the time.
     
“Hey.” I stopped him. “The reports you’re getting. What exactly do they say happened?”
     
He sighed. “You would not believe it if I told you.”
     
Oh, if he only knew.
     
     
     
     
     
     
    5
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
I MADE IT TO THE DOJO IN TIME TO OPEN IT FOR THE LITTLE Dragons class, but just barely. I managed to change into my gi and be on the mat as they arrived. Mae teaches the early morning adult classes during the week and the Saturday afternoon classes, too, so she often has me take the Saturday morning Little Dragon class on my own.
     
I wished she was here now, though. I would have liked to have told her about what I’d seen the night before and asked her what it all might mean. I wouldn’t mind having a little advice on what to do about Mr. Yummy Surfer Cop, too. It would have to wait. Maybe I’d come back later in the afternoon and tempt her with some turtle candies. Any attempt at resistance withholding information would be futile once I waved a combination of chocolate and caramel in front of her.
     
The kids streamed in. Little dark-haired boys with cowlicks sticking straight up. Little blonde girls in ponytails. Brown kids. White kids. All wearing blazingly white gis and gap-toothed smiles. The heavy load in my heart began to lighten a little. There was still good in the world somewhere, and it was somewhere that I actually belonged. Like me, the dojo existed at some kind of strange juncture between a lot of different worlds. Like me, it didn’t always look pretty and had taken a few knocks. There was no other place like it.
     
I started them racing across the padded floor doing a worm crawl. Marco Torres was the first one to make it to the mirror and back again to the wall. “Marco,” I barked. “Step forward.”
     
Marco did. I put a sticker on his chest. Before I could straighten back up, he threw his arms around my neck. “Thank you, Sensei,” he lisped into my ear.
     
I was enveloped in the scents of green grass, bubblegum toothpaste and little boy. The load in my chest lightened that much more. “Thank you, Marco,” I whispered back before I straightened up to teach the rest of the class, hoping that nobody would notice the sudden moisture in my eyes.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
I TAUGHT BOTH THE LITTLE DRAGONS CLASSES. WE OFFER beginner and advanced kids’ karate at River City. By the time I finished the second class, Mae had arrived. I waited with more patience than I thought I had in me as the kids left, and then I cornered Mae in her office.
     
The second the door was shut, I spilled everything. The release was incredible. Mae listened, her eyes slightly narrowed as she focused on what I said without interrupting. When I was done, she asked, “They hopped?”
     
“They hopped. Have you ever heard of anything like that?” I leaned my elbows on her desk, halfway exhausted from my recitation.
     
She shook her head. “And they had yellow things on their foreheads? And you think you heard bells?”
     
“Yep.”
     
“And you didn’t get kicked in the head during a sparring session recently?” She leaned back in her chair, looking at me with a frown on her face.
     
“Nope.”
     
“I don’t know, Melina. I’ll look into it.” She stood up and walked out of the office and