2 Richy (1/2)

Talia receives her call from Uncle Bob as she enters the small mountain town of Bayberry Falls. It's only an hour drive from her estate, but she's never been here before. Yet the likelihood of her getting lost in such a small town is between slim and none.

Talia answers her phone with an expectant, ”Well…”

Uncle Bob's not thrown off or insulted by Talia's lack of a proper greeting. He simply starts to tell her what he's learned. ”Bayberry Falls is where he was born and raised. He lives in the same house he grew up in, 3 My Street. His parents died in an air-shuttle crash several years ago. He had an older brother who was struck and killed by a drunk driver when they were kids. He has degrees in Criminal Justice and Sociology. He's known for being sympathetic towards wild folks. He's never been married and has no children. Call if you need anything else.”

”Thank you, Uncle Bob. See you soon,” then she hangs up and tucks her phone away. She stops in front of a store front window and checks her appearance.

Contrary to popular belief among most tamed people, wild folks are very clean. They bathe every day in the nearest stream, creek, river, water fall etc. And in this mountainous region, there are many waterfalls to choose from, most of them created by the tall constantly white mountain peaks. Most of the original tribes of this region are now one tribe, Animalistic, who her brother Roar is the current chief of. Most of the other tribes in the region are from all over the world: flown in, trucked in and marched in so tamed people could develop their land. Talia's people have been lucky. The mountains and severe winters make their region undesirable to most tame folks. Yet two interstates wind their way through, and there are a few small towns like Bayberry Falls here and there. Fortunately, none of the tribes are overly territorial and share well.

Talia combed her hair after her waterfall shower and it's dry now, but she misses her grandmother's ability to tame it as she combs her fingers through the waves. The clothes she wore the day before, she washed and laid on rocks to dry while she showered in the modest waterfall. But she traded the white outfit for an identical outfit in peach. It's not unusual for wild folks to store things they may need in different areas, especially frequently traveled routes. Talia has several caches of clean clothes and food stored in different places where she roams frequently. Breakfast for Talia was deer jerky, nuts and berries she picked from a bush that grows by the modest falls she showered in.

Talia smooths her clothes as she checks herself in the store's front window. She tilts her head to the side. Normally Talia isn't concerned with her appearance. She's not a vain person, most wild folks aren't. But at the moment, she wishes she were taller and thinner. The way she's built is fine with wild males and good for wild living in this area. Sheriff Richard Griffin may have wild blood in him, but he's not wild. He lives a tamed life. There's no way he would be seriously interested in her, she thinks to herself. And that thought makes her realize that she's interested in Sheriff Richard Griffin. So interested, she called her Uncle Bob to dig up info on him.

Talia sighs as a woman steps out of the shop.

”Are you okay, Sugar,” the woman ask Talia. ”You look a little lost.”

”I'm fine, thank you ma'am,” Talia answers. ”I'm not lost.”

”Where ya headed,” ask the woman.

”Sheriff's office,” Talia answers. ”He asked me to drop by today.”

”Well,” the woman glances at Talia's feet, but continues to smile warmly, ”you're almost there. It's just a little farther up Main Street here on the other side.”

”Thank you, ma'am,” and Talia moves on. The woman had been genuinely concerned for Talia. Talia smelled it. The woman was curious and just wanted to help.

A minute later, Talia is standing across from the office of peace with butterflies in her stomach. His vehicle is parked right out front with another peace vehicle. Talia takes a deep breath, waits for a pickup truck to pass and crosses the street.

Talia enters the front doors of the Bayberry Falls Department of Peace cautiously. The floor feels cool against her bare feet. A middle aged dark skinned woman with her dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her head looks up from some electronic paperwork as she sits behind her desk.

”You must be Miss Talia,” the woman stands up smiling and puts out her hand. ”I'm Margie Sumpter.”

”Talia Devonshire,” she introduces herself shaking Margie's hand.

”Thank goodness you're finally here,” Margie says honestly. ”He's driving me crazy. I'm ready to shoot him. As late as he worked yesterday, he should have taken today off. He's described you to me at least a half dozen times. His office is right though those doors on the right. Please get in there before he comes out here and describes you again.”

”Yes, ma'am,” and Talia rushes through the doors Margie indicated. She knows the woman didn't mean that part about shooting him, but the smell of her irritation was strong.

Talia glances at two holding cells to her left. Then past a row of filing cabinets and a desk on the right is the door to Sheriff Richard Griffin's office. Talia walks up to the door with Sheriff Richard Griffin stenciled on the tinted glass and raises her hand to knock. But the door yanks open before her knuckles can make contact.

Sheriff Richard Griffin stands there for a moment staring at Talia. And just as Talia is about to speak a greeting, his arm snakes out around her waist and pulls her against him. Then he puts his nose to her neck and draws it up behind her ear inhaling her scent. Then he offers her his neck and Talia returns the wild greeting. She wasn't expecting to receive a wild greeting. And his scent tells her that he was anxious, nervous and suddenly aroused. Of course the sudden swell in the front of his pants against her abdomen also told her he was aroused. While his scent is causing the blood to rush to her groin as her nipples harden.

”Thank you for coming, Miss Talia,” he says as he guides her into his office with his hand at the small of her back. ”Please, sit down. I was afraid you wouldn't come.” He gives his pants a small tug in an effort to find some relief as he sits down behind his desk. He had to fight the urge to run into the forest and track her the previous night. His sense of smell isn't as strong as hers, but he can usually track a scent less than a day old. He had been well on his way to finding the little girl when he startled Talia.

He tells her, ”After the way you were treated, I wouldn't have blamed you for not stopping in.” He leaves out that he would have gone out to look for her tonight if she hadn't showed up, and not because he needs her statement for his report, because he didn't need it. ”Well, let's get started.”

”Should we leave out the part where Deputy Al almost shot me, Sheriff,” ask Talia.

Richy nods, ”That would be kind of you. And please, Miss Talia, call me Richy.”

”OK… Richy. Call me, Tali. You can leave off that miss stuff.”

Richy flashes her his dazzling smile as he mentally notes Talia lacks most of the flashy jewelry and tattoos most wilds usually have. The best piercings and tattoos are done by wilds. Yet Talia only has one modest piercing in her right nostril where sits a small silver ball, most likely a nose screw. Wilds prefer nose screws over studs. In her ears she has five pairs of piercings filled with five pairs of silver loops of modest size. No other jewelry and no tattoos in plain sight; even though, he's sure she has at least one tat. Her tribal tattoo is probably located at the small of her back.

”Good,” Richy responds placing his hands on the keyboards of his office computer and focuses on the flat screen. ”Okay Tali, let's start with your full name.” Then he cringes internally because he knows most wilds don't have middle and last names.

But Talia answers without hesitation, ”Talia Marie Devonshire.”

”Age?”

”Thirty-two.”

Three years younger than himself, he thinks to himself.

”Are you going to need my address and stuff too,” ask Talia.

Richy pauses to make eye contact with Talia as he answers, ”Yeah.” He watches as she reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small rectangle of plastic. Out of the palm sized plastic rectangle she pulls out three cards and places them on his desk for him.

Richy is surprised yet pleased to see a driver's license, a PINC (personal identification number card formerly known as a social security card) and a business card. Talia is the most intriguing woman he's ever met. He smells she's wild, yet she just handed him three things wild folks don't usually have because they don't usually even have a birth certificate because they were born in the wilderness.

The business card is basic, a white card with black type face. In the center it says: Devonshire World Law Firm. In the upper left corner: Talia M. Devonshire. In the lower left corner is the office phone number. The lower right corner has her cell number. He wonders all kind of things about Talia. He wants to know everything about her.

Curious he asks, ”Where were you born?”

”My grandfather's home, the address on my driver's license,” answers Talia.

”It's a little isolated,” comments Richy.

”It's close to our tribe,” shares Talia. ”Pawpaw had it built there so my Me'me' would be close to our tribe and family, so she could run wild when she needed to.”

Richy understands the need to run wild. That's what he's doing when he tells his tame friends he's going camping, fishing, hunting, rock climbing or caving when he's actually meeting up with wild cousins. He can't become an animal of any kind, but he's more wild than he is tame and he knows it. His wild excursions save him from going crazy from what he thinks of as domestication or a domesticated life.

”What's your tribe,” ask Richy.

”Animalistic.”

”That used to be several different tribes,” recalls Richy smiling, ”original tribes of this region: Wolf, Mountain Lion, Bear, Beaver, Deer and ah… Eagle.”

Talia's impressed that he knows all the original tribes and decides to ask a question of her own, ”What's your tribe?”

Richy answers without pause, ”Water Tribe.”

Talia eyebrows furrow as she says, ”Fjord.”

Richy stops smiling. ”I'm not friends with him. He's a mean son of bitch. The man doesn't deserve to be chief of a dead rat. May I keep your business card?”

Talia shrugs, ”Of course.” She wasn't expecting the business card back. That's what you do with business cards, you give them away to other people.

Richy slides her driver's license and PINC back to her. ”Now for your statement.”

Talia puts her ID and PINC away. ”I was racing a deer when I happened upon you and Deputy Al. You said you could use my help finding a lost child. I rushed ahead of you and Deputy Al, caught the girl's scent, heard muffled crying and tracked the scent and crying to the little girl. I took the little girl back to you and Deputy Al. Then together we returned the little girl to her parents.”

Richy finishes typing Talia's statement. ”Just let me print this and get your signature.” He hands the statement to Talia. She reviews it and signs it with a pen from the pen holder on his desk.

Richy accepts back the signed statement. ”Would you like a copy?”

Talia shakes her head no. Richy places the statement in a manila folder with other paper work for the case and puts it in a desk drawer.

Richy stands up. ”Talia, would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch? There's a café a couple of doors down with excellent grub.”

Talia wants to say yes. ”But I'm not wearing any shoes. You know: no shirt, no shoes, no service.”

”Please,” implores Richy.

”And when they won't let me in?”

Richy smiles, ”They'll let you in.”