Ch Ch Ch Changes! Ch. 08-09

"Sweetie, I think it's really good you can't remember it too well. It was the worst experience of my life, and she wasn't trying to murder me."

"Oh my god... Sarah! I'm so sorry. It's because of my date that you were put in that situation!" I feel tears fill my eyes.

"Hush! Liesl... oh my God... it was terrible, but if you'd been alone there's a good chance you'd be dead. So don't worry about me. OK?"

I nod. She sits on the bed beside me, just holding my hand, occasionally brushing away a lock of hair from my eyes. She calms down from the energy of rehashing the events as we sit, needing these precious moments of quiet.

Sarah pulls my hand to her bosom, then continues, "Liesl. The cops are investigating this. They've already said it was an accident but they also know that I'd called them to report the assault. There is a detective that is going to want to talk to you." Sarah's face has a very serious look to it.

She leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I told them we didn't know her, that she was just some random meth-head looking for food in trash bins and flipped out when she saw you. I'm worried - if you tell a different story, or tell them about the Wiccans that there'll be some sort of trouble."

My thinking still feels foggy but I understand what Sarah is telling me. Telling the cops I was a man until mid June of this year, or that I knew the tweaker from a date we had awhile ago when he was a man... those things would make my life infinitely more difficult.

I nod at my friend, a few tears running down my cheeks. "I get it. I'll try my best. Nothing about the magic. Promise."

A nurse brings in some juice for me, telling me that the doctor is probably going to discharge me in the next hour. She also tells me that a detective from the Police Department is here to talk to me, but that she can send him away if I'm not up for it. I'm most definitely not up for it, but I don't think I'll ever be up for it so I tell her to send him in.

Several minutes later, the detective strides in, his presence shouts authority and control, good qualities to have if you are trying to intimidate bad guys, I guess. He's a mustachioed Latino, a bit heavy set and not too tall, probably in his late 40s or early 50s. He's dressed in white dress shirt with light blue stripes, a poorly knotted tie, and worn chinos. A yellowing, laminated ID card hanging from his shirt pocket states that he is Detective José Oliveras with the Tucson Police Department. While the way he comports himself cries authority, the look on his face betrays boredom, as though he can't wait to go home, crack open a Pacifico, and watch the game.

"Ms. Greene? Liesl Greene?" He asks, his bored eyes looking me over analytically, his Chicano accent so familiar in Tucson.

"Yes officer?"

"I'm detective Oliveras with the Tucson Police Department." He emphasizes the 'detective' - clearly he doesn't like being addressed as an officer. "I'm here to ask you some questions about the events that happened at the Eegee's on Oracle Road earlier today. You aren't a suspect and we have no reason to believe that either you or Sarah had anything to do with the death of the woman there. We just need to be able to establish a timeline of events and determine if any crimes were committed. You don't have to answer my questions, but it would be of great assistance to our investigation if you did."

He sorta smiles a bit at the end, offering a weak effort at persuading me to help him end his boring day.

I indulge him - for about an hour he asks a long string of questions about the events of the day, starting with Sarah and I at the mall and ending when I woke up in the hospital. My memory of the events isn't that good, and gets worst the closer I get to passing out in Sarah's car - I can't even tell him that I saw the woman being hit by the car. He asks a lot of questions about why the woman would have attacked us like she did (he never names her - and actually asks if I know her, or her name several times).

Things start to get uncomfortable when he tells me that the counter employees at the Eegee's hear her saying my name, and that she was going to make us pay.

"Ms Greene, you can understand why I'm a bit confused by this, right? She knew your name and seemed to be carrying some sort of grudge against you."

I nod... yah, I think to myself, I can definitely understand why you'd be confused about this detective. But you'll be even more confused if I tell you everything I know. That'll almost certainly land me in the psych unit, and it won't change the outcome of your investigation.

"Do you think you may have encountered this person at some other time before today? Perhaps it was a brief encounter? Or maybe a long time ago? Have you had your ID stolen recently?" Detective Oliveras' eyes are getting a bit squinty as they look at me. I'm guessing his very strong desire for logical stories isn't being met by my answers.

I feel the early pangs of panic starting to creep up through my belly, my heart starts to beat a bit harder. I've never done this before but I decide to go full traumatized-woman on him. Thankfully it's so much easier than I'd have expected. I start to cry, the tears flow as does the snot, a few soft sobs follow naturally - I am traumatized but I'm also scared to death of telling the truth. He pulls some tissues from a bedside box and hands them to me. I can't really tell what's going on with his face but after a minute or two of crying, just as I'm starting to wind down his phone dings with a text. He glances at it and slips his notepad into his back pocket.

"Ms Greene, I have to leave now. I'm sorry this happened to you. I think I have enough information to satisfy my boss, but I may have to contact you in the future." He pulls out two cards from his wallet and places them on the stand next to the bed. "I'm leaving you with my card. If you remember anything else please give me a call. I'm also leaving you with contact information for Victims' services. They can help you access legal and social support services you are entitled to as a victim of a violent crime." And just like that, he's gone.