Hey, everyone! Below is the first of my 12 chapter novella, "Alexis", which centers around the lead female character, Alexis Kearns, in my debut novel "The Messengers": which can be found here.
This is a stand-alone novel that takes place in-between "The Messengers" and it's sequel, "The Black Athame" , which will be released on May 21 of this year. While characters that appear in "The Messengers" series will play a role in this novella, you do not have to read "The Messengers" in order to understand the plot line to "Alexis" (though it is recommended :D )
Alexis, a novella
Chapter
1: The Interview
“This is Alexis
Kearns interviewing State Senator Margaret Thomas,” she said into the recorder
before placing it on the table. “Good afternoon, Senator. Thank you for
agreeing to speak with me.”
Senator Thomas
smiled pleasantly from behind her desk. Her teeth were an off-white color that
reminded Alexis of the dentures her grandmother wore. They were nearly the same
shade as the senator’s short wispy hair, reminding her of one of the actresses
from the Ovaltine commercials that she was barely old enough to remember.
“Thank you, Miss
Kearns,” the senator replied. “I was very happy to hear that you wanted to
speak with me about the Next Generation Heroes Foundation. I was hoping that
the Chronicle would report on it, but I didn’t expect to get you!”
“Oh, well, you
know,” Alexis said, half-expecting herself to do a hair flip that she would’ve
smacked herself for doing later. She acquired quite a bit fame after the medium
suicides case—primarily from the story she broke about James Hawthorne when he
fell to his death and she did a whole piece on her Android. Without Justin around
any longer, she had become the top dog at the Seattle Chronicle, and given free
reign over the stories she chose to report on. “The Next Gen Heroes Foundation
means a lot to me personally. It was one of the scholarships from your
foundation that paid for most of my first year at U-Dub.”
“Really,” Senator
Thomas said with a sense of self-gratification. “Then I guess you are the right
person for the article. You know first-hand the good work we do.”
“Exactly,” Alexis
replied, eying the tape recorder. “That said, why don’t you tell me a little
background information about the foundation?”
Senator Thomas
clasped her hands over the table and leaned forward so that her every word
could be picked up. “The Next Generation Heroes Foundation was founded in 1992
by my ex-husband, Henry, and I. Before becoming a senator for Seattle area I
worked as a Critical Theory professor at the University of Washington and then
Seattle University. During my time at Seattle U I had a girl in my class,
Deshana Lambert. Miss Lambert was clearly one of the brightest students in my class
that year, but she was always getting there late and sometimes nodded off
during my lectures. She approached me during visiting hours one afternoon to
apologize for falling asleep in class, and mentioned she had just worked a
double-shift at a twenty-four hour diner before getting to class. In fact, Miss
Lambert was sometimes working fifty-hour weeks between her two jobs while
attending Seattle U full-time. She was working so hard to afford her education that
she didn’t give herself enough time to absorb the material so that she could
keep up with students that came from wealthier families.
“Well, that didn’t
resonate so well with me. While Miss Lambert made it work, graduated, and went
on to become a project manager at Microsoft, so many others just like her were
dropping out or putting their education on hold until they could afford it. I
sat down with my husband, who was worked as a grant writing consultant, and
told him that I wanted to create a scholarship fund to further help our young
people get an education. Between his grant writing skills and my connections
through the schools and the students that became successful after leaving my
classroom, we’ve managed to raise more than twelve million dollars in the last
twenty-three years. Fifty-thousand of that has come from Miss Lambert herself!
She always gives us a generous donation at the end of the year.”
“The Seattle
Chronicle has made multiple donations to your scholarship fund as well, has it
not?”
“Indeed,” Senator
Thomas nodded. “We are very grateful for the donations from the Seattle
Chronicle and the Bauer family.”
“And in turn, the
foundation has benefitted you as well.”
The senator cocked
her head. “I’m sorry?”
Alexis paused, but
then smiled sweetly was brushed her black bangs from her eyes. “My apologies. I
mean, when you first ran from a senate seat in 2002, you were able to use the Next
Gen Heroes Foundation as part of your platform.”
“Oh!” Senator
Thomas replied. Color returned to her face. “Of course. It’s important to note
that using the foundation as a means of acquiring a senate seat was never my intent.
A Seattle Times reporter commented on it, and from then on I was known as the ‘scholarship
lady’ during the rest of my campaign.”
“Politicians have
certainly been called worse things during their campaigns,” Alexis said,
sharing a laugh with the senator, who softened again after Alexis’ interpretable
approach.
“Since I’ve been a
state senator, our scholarship funds have nearly doubled. Of the twelve million
that has been raised in our twenty-three years, eight million of it has come in
the last ten.”
“Yes,” Alexis’ ‘s’
lingered. “As of last month, the Next Gen Heroes Foundation has raised
$12,486,354.25.”
Senator Thomas
pondered the number for a moment. “That sounds about right.”
“And in the last
seven years, roughly $392,403 of that has found its way into one of your
off-shore accounts. Does that number also sound about right?”
The senator’s face
soured to that of a rotten tomato. Alexis thought it wise that she went into
education and not professional poker. Senator Thomas took a moment before
replying and glanced at the tape recorder as if it were a cockroach taking a
nap on her desk. “Excuse me?”
“Is it, or is it
not true that, starting in July of 2008, you have been cutting yourself a
portion of the donations that should be going to your foundation?” Alexis
asked, fixated on the senator’s inability to look her in the eye. “I can put in
to you in other terms. The cost for tuition for an undergraduate student to
attend the University of Washington in Seattle during fall quarter of the
2014-2015 school year was $4132 after fees. The amount of money that you
embezzled could have paid for ninety-five of those students—some just like
Deshana Lambert. Instead, that money went straight from Miss Lambert’s
checkbook, the Seattle Chronicle account, and so many others, right into your pocket.
Is that correct?”
“No! Absolutely
not—and I’m offended by the mere implication that I could be stealing from my
own non-profit.”
Alexis leaned to
the side and unzipped the messenger bag she carried with her (all the while
keeping an eye on the tape recorder in case Senator Thomas did something
stupid). She grabbed a tan folder and slid it onto the table towards the
senator. The senator opened it and examined the documents inside as if she was
reading someone else’s draft of her last will and testament.
Alexis explained
as the senator sifted through the documents. “Those first few pages are account
statements given to me by another member of your foundation. On it are your
accounts payable and receivable, salaries for yourself and your employees,
miscellaneous expenses, the grant money distributions—everything that should be
there.”
The senator nodded
as she combed through every line like a Calculus teacher waiting to find a line
in a math problem where the numbers didn’t add up.
“The final page
contains a number that is just under four-hundred thousand dollars short of
what it should be.”
“There are a
number of reasons for why that could be,” the senator said. “For instance—”
“For instance, you
can scroll through the rest of that document and put your foot in your mouth,”
Alexis replied swiftly. “I wouldn’t have approached you with this allegation
without it being truthful. It’s all there. The list of accounts that you’ve created,
the credit report that was run on you two months ago, a printed spreadsheet of
every small funds transfer you’ve made between your non-profit’s account and
your personal account, the tax information that clearly states that your
reported is less than what you’re claiming as your salary—shall I go on?”
“You were a
recipient of this scholarship,” the senator hissed. “Why are you of all people trying to take it
down?”
“I’m not,” Alexis
replied. “I’m just presenting information that proves that you are no longer the
best person to run it. I also don’t think that your constituents will approve
of your siphoning of funds come re-election.”
Senator Thomas
launched her hand out toward the tape recorder like a snake trying to swallow
its prey, but Alexis was just as fast and grabbed the senator’s wrist before
she could swipe it. “I strongly suggest that you let go of my property, ma’am,” she said in the more derogatory
tone she could muster. “Also that’s not the only recording device I brought
with me today. I figured you might have this reaction.”
The senator
loosened her grip on the recorder, so Alexis let released her wrist. When she
did, the senator raised an eyebrow and turned Alexis’ wrist around, revealing
the kanji tattoo that she’d gotten when she first turned eighteen.
“It means ‘family’,”
Alexis said. “I got it when—”
“I studied Chinese
in high school and Japanese in college. This tattoo doesn’t mean ‘family’,” the
senator glanced from the tattoo straight into Alexis’ eyes. “It means ‘don’t
forget’.”
“‘Never forget’,” Alexis
corrected her though clenched teeth.
“Hmm,” Senator
Thomas muttered. The wheels turned in her head as she shed her skin to reveal
herself as the viper Alexis knew that she was before starting the interview.
This was not a kind old lady that meant to do nothing but good work with her
non-profit. Something changed several years ago when her husband left her for
someone younger and she realized that she could dip into the scholarship pool
that she’d been filling for the last two decades. Her jaws were unhinged and
she was threatening to swallow Alexis whole. “What kind of young woman would
get a tattoo and lie about its meaning? Something very personal must have happened
to you, if you’re willing to engrave the words ‘never forget’ on a part of your
body that you can almost always see. If you’re going to lie about it, it must
be something that you don’t tell anyone—something that you’ve possibly never
told anyone before.”
“You don’t know
me.”
Senator Thomas
clasped Alexis’ wrist between her two clammy hands and ran her thumb down the tattoo
that Alexis was caught lying about. “You’re the older of two girls brought up
in a middle-class Christian home. Your parents are do-gooders and your younger
sister frequently joins them on bake sales and retreats to build wells in third
world countries and houses and other shit. You are nothing like them. You were
an angry child in grade school, frequently dying your hair shades of black,
red, and pink, and grew up on punk music while wearing clothes that made you
look like a street rat. When you got into journalism, you were dead-set on
going after other people like a prosecutor with a chip on their shoulder, and
like an angry prosecutor you often went above and beyond to ensure that your
subjects paid for their wrong-doings—sometimes very publicly.”
Alexis could feel
the senator’s thumbnail threatening to dig into her tattoo, as if to slice it
clear off of her skin. She did nothing to stop her, though. Their conversation
was still being recorded, and there was no telling what else the senator would
say while on the record. “You’ve done your research on me, then. You knew that I
was a recipient of your scholarship, but you chose to bullshit me.”
“I was playing
nice. Judging by this tattoo, I don’t think that people often play nice with
you.” A smirk crept across the senator’s face. “You got this tattoo as a
reminder that you need to play hero. You want to play hero for those that have
been wronged, because when you needed
a hero, no one came to you aid. Someone wronged at a young age, didn’t they.
And whatever they did… it’s something that you never got over.”
Alexis glared at
the senator and replied through a pair of tight lips. “Is there anything else
that you’d like to admit to while you’re still on the record?”
“He still haunts
you, doesn’t me,” the senator scathed. “Jack Calderan, I mean. When he attacked
you, it must have reminded you of what happened before.”
Alexis clutched
onto the tape recorder and yanked her arm out from between the senator’s scaly palms.
“We’re done here, bitch. And you’re just done in general. ‘Senator and
Scholarship Founder Grants Herself Ninety-Five Quarter’s Worth of Student’s
Dreams.’ It’ll have to be the subhead, since it runs a bit wordy. I think the
headline ‘FRAUD’ in all caps with your picture underneath will grab the public’s
attention though.” She placed her tape recorder back in her pocket and zipped
up her messenger bag before slinging it around her shoulder. “Thank you for
paying for part of my education, senator. I’m glad I put it to good use.”
“You can take me
down, Alexis,” the senator crossed her arms over her chest. “But you’ll never
be able to outrun what really haunts you.”
Alexis turned away
and walked toward the door. “I already did,” she replied, shutting it behind
her.
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