This is Casey Sterling with WJKR-Middletown Radio. For our special holiday event we have guest journalist Miranda Jackson from Central Public Radio! We’re interviewing each other, so sit back and enjoy “Behind the Broadcasters”!
So, Miranda, as our guest, I think it’s fair that you ask the first question.
Thanks, Casey. I’d like to begin with a question about your family. I hear your daughter is a rather potent psychic, but refused to join the government program for the gifted. Is she seeking private training elsewhere?
Well Miranda, I’m glad you asked! My daughter is very special indeed, and I am proud that she is quite interested in registering for a highly prestigious program. She is currently awaiting a response from Mistress Mental regarding her training…
Rena Sterling turned off the radio in disgust. The sudden silence brought to light the unbearable chatter inside her head. She heard the internal monologues of every mind within a wide radius. Each day she grew stronger, adding more voices to her head as her “listening” radius grew wider. She tried to distract herself from the voices as she put an oversized purple hooded sweater on over her black tank top and denim shorts and headed outside into the warm summer day, still fuming from the lies being spewed over the airwaves.
She walked down the streets of the small Midwestern town, absently heading toward a large carnival nearby. As she passed men on the streets, she groaned as she unwillingly heard their thoughts. Nice ass. I’d do her any day.
She hastened her pace slightly to avoid those thoughts when she caught another, far more malicious thought. Two men were planning on baiting a teenage girl into an alleyway, with the intent of having their way with her. Something urged Rena to just move on. It wasn’t her problem, after all.
She couldn’t pinpoint the source of the malicious thoughts, but she could see their target. A tiny blonde girl wearing a skirt so short it might have actually been a belt, along with a white tube top that revealed her midriff, was walking several feet in front of Rena. Dressed like that, she’ll get what she’s asking for, Rena thought as she resumed trying to tune out the thoughts of those around her.
To her chagrin, Rena found the men turning their thoughts onto her. “Forget the skinny little blonde. That brunette there has some curves,” one of them whispered. The other nodded, and they trained their thoughts on how to best lure her into a secluded area. Rena decided to play along and stepped into an alley. The men followed her, as she expected them to.
“Hey little lady. Need some help?” one of the thugs asked, feigning gentleness.
Rena forced herself to look scared and confused. “Please. I’m lost.”
“We’ll take you home,” the other thug said. “For a price,” he added.
“I’m sorry, but I have no money to repay you…” Rena said, mentally preparing herself.
“Oh, we don’t want money,” the first thug said as he stepped closer to her, drawing a knife from his vest. “We just want you.”
Rena’s false expression of fear became one of smug confidence. “That’s what I thought. Wanna play, boys? I’ll give you the time of your life.”
The thugs grinned arrogantly, amused by the small woman’s change in attitude. The second thug laughed. “Come now, we like it better when you struggle.”
“Do you, now?” Rena said coolly. A small smile played across her lips as she plunged into the recesses of her mind, finding a small source of power that she usually tried to suppress. Here, however, it would save her rather than be a curse. Before the thugs knew what hit them, they were writhing on the ground, reliving the very nightmares they had enacted, viewed from the eyes of their hapless victims. Rena stepped over the bodies of the thugs after pocketing the money they had on them.
She continued walking, and she soon spotted the purple circus tents pitched in a clearing between apartment complexes. She didn’t have plans, and a carnival was as good a distraction as any. She paid her admission using some of the money she had acquired from the thugs.
Outside the largest tent, some acrobats were warming up, doing cartwheels and flips in front of a gathering audience. Rena joined the crowd of onlookers, watching the performers in awe.
“Hey, you there,” a masculine voice called out from behind her. Rena spun around, instantly spotting a rotund man in a black tux, puffing on a cigar. Standing up, he only reached Rena’s shoulders. “Nice legs you got there.”
Rena tensed, but quickly realized that he was speaking in a business sense, unlike the thugs. “Thanks, I suppose,” she said tersely.
“Hey, lighten up! My name’s Joe. Joe Stiegel.”
“Like the casino?” Rena asked absently.
“What?” Joe asked, scratching his balding head.
“Nothing.”
“Huh,” he said, taking a puff from his cigar. “Anyway, lass, I wasn’t saying that just to say it. I don’t do that, and my wife is far prettier than you anyway. What I meant was you look like you have some strong legs. I can smell hidden talent a mile away. Ever think about being one of them?” he gestured toward the two acrobats thanking the smitten audience for their compliments.
Rena examined them thoughtfully. “Perhaps. They seem… happy.”
Joe smiled. “Well, everybody loves them! Who wouldn’t be?” He fished a business card out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s my card. I do hope we meet again soon,” he said, flashing a toothy, yellowed grin at Rena. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name,” he added.
“It’s Rena.”
“Pretty. Well, you take care now, you hear? Farewell,” he tipped his hat and walked off to compliment the acrobats.
Rena turned the card over and over, as if it were a piece of a complicated jigsaw puzzle.
What did she have to lose?
