Chapter 37

“We need to talk” is usually the two slices of sweet bread covering a shit sandwich. I have yet to hear those innocent-sounding words when they weren’t followed by news I didn’t want to listen to. The last time a boss called me into the office using such an invitation, I left with a security escort to the front door and a severance check in my back pocket.

“Have a seat.” Sheila patted the empty cushion and motioned for me to sit. “We’ve got a lot to talk about and not much time. The meeting starts in forty-five minutes.”

“What does the board have to do with that?”

I pointed to the inch-thick binder in her right hand with my name inscribed on the spine. Dennis Richards had been scratched out and overwritten in black ink: SkyWolf.

“Oh, this?” She waved the folder in the air before placing it in her lap. “Just a few notes in case I forget something.”

Her serious expression ended with a wink and the hint of a knowing smile. Sheila had mastered the art of sending mixed messages.

Authority blended with sensual curiosity served as the foundation of our working relationship. We each pretended not to be aroused by the other in a weird game of sideways seduction. We played at the limits of desire. I pushed her boundaries but refused to cross. Intimacy advanced only at her invitation, and she hated it. She thought I was seducing her by convincing herself to seduce me. Since the event, I’d stopped playing.

“I’m about to be making some changes, Sky.”

Sheila pulled my hand as she guided me to an off-balance crash landing into the adjoining cushion.

“What is it with your friggin’ gravity assists? I can get down on my own, thank you.” I tried to smile as I grumbled my objections to hide my alarm. Changes?!

“I’m only trying to help, and quit trying to shift the subject.”

She tilted her head and looked into my eyes. Her gaze was an unnerving repeat of our pre-dawn breakfast staring contest. My neck muscles tensed as I returned her mind-meld with one of my own. Two can play this game; let’s see if we can find out what’s going on in there? I willed my soul to relax and stepped back from the moment as I shifted my perspective to become a third person onlooker. I wanted to observe the both of us in action.

We locked eyes, and for several long moments, our conversation was an exchange of silence as fleeting expressions concern of puzzled concern, annoyance, and sometimes affection rippled across our faces as we traded wordless thoughts. I touched my hand to her arm.

“What kind of changes?”

“I can’t tell you, not yet. Not until I get council approval.” Sheila patted my hand and gave me a reassuring smile. “Trust me, everything will be fine. You have my word.”

The Chief opened my binder and extracted a bundle of papers marked: “SkyWolf: Six Month EVAL/1.”

“First, I need you to initial these pages to show that you have read them,” the Commander said as she slid several pages dense with text out of the folder and laid them on the binder cover for me to sign.

“Can I read ‘em first?”

I pulled my bifocals out of my breast pocket and polished the lenses with a corner of my flannel shirt.

“No time. Scan, sign, and read it later.” She impatiently tapped her finger on a little box helpfully labeled, “Initial Here.”

After taking the gel pen from my boss’s hand, I hesitated. Documents signed under duress are not legally or morally binding. Not that it mattered. I scanned the paragraphs and scribbled “DNR/SW” across the checkbox.

Most of the answers to the boilerplate questions were checked: “Exceeds Expectations” followed by a sentence or two of additional observations or supporting comment. I allowed myself to relax a tiny bit. So far, I hadn’t seen anything life-threatening. I’d suffered through enough evaluation reports in my day to know, my opinion didn’t much matter.

With a whole world turned to shit, I couldn’t believe the Chief was wasting her time filling out some stupid report. I shrugged and signed each page of glowing grades with a grim smile. Apparently, I was doing a great job doing at whatever it was I was supposed to be doing. I let out an involuntary chuckle as I prepared to add my initials to the last sheet.

“What so funny?” Sheila gave me an inquiring look of puzzled concern.

“Nothing. Even in these strange times, the bureaucracy will outlive us all.” I shook my head and signed with a smile.

The Commander snorted a quick laugh as she withdrew the last sheet from the folder. “Sign and date here that I’ve given you this report.” She pointed to the signature line at the bottom of the page.

My eyes widened, and sweat trickled down my back as I read the summary recommendations under “Fitness for Duty” TERMINATE WITHOUT PREJUDICE & REASSIGN.

“What the hell?”

I gasped as a jolt of fear-driven adrenaline surged through my body and my gut twisted two ways from Tuesday, and my knees started to shake.

“Do you trust me?” She rested her hand on my leg to still my trembling.

“Er, um, yes, I suppose so.”

I tensed my leg and forced myself to remain still as I took a deep breath and tried to get my breathing under control.

Sheila smiled. “Then trust me now.”

“Sign zee papers, old man.”

I took the pen from her hand and muttered in my best phony German Gestapo movie accent. I didn’t have much choice. I signed my John Hancock in a signature with two-inch high letters defiantly spanning the page. I allowed myself to smile; the sweeping curlicue underline flourish was a nice touch.

The small conference room reserved for council meetings was jam-packed with a standing room only gaggle of curious sisters as I took my place at the head of the table while the Commander stood before the blackboard with a chunk of chalk in hand.

“Our austerity protocol is now in effect, no more printed throw away agendas.”

With the Confidence of an experienced teacher and the penmanship of a practiced professional, the leader rapidly wrote out the meeting’s agenda in chalk:

1. Belinda’s Action Request

2. Commander’s Report/Work Assignments

3. Going Forward (Planning)

Sheila stepped back to admire her handy work and then added a fourth item to the meeting’s agenda:

4. New Business

“The event has rendered old business obsolete,” the Chief said with an ironic smile. “It’s all yesterday’s news. We start afresh.” She took her seat, glanced at her watch, and whacked the table with her gavel.

“This meeting of the Society’s Executive Committee is now in session. Belinda, you have the floor.” The leader pointed the handle of the hammer and beckoned Belinda to rise. “Speak truthfully so that we may better know your mind.”

“I address the committee in the matter of our two missing sisters, Darlene and Alice.” The Frost Queen scanned the faces of her friends as she walked to the center of the circle to stand facing Sheila.

“The sisters have been missing for three days. I am formally demanding we immediately launch a search and rescue operation to bring them back home.” The Lady of Ice put her hands on her hips and awaited the Chair’s response.

Sheila stiffened as she sat upright in the chair. “Belinda, you know my feelings about this. Request denied. Alice and Darlene are quite capable of taking care of themselves. I expect them to scout the situation in town at least for a few days before they head back here with a report. If they haven’t returned within a week, will send out a search party, but until then...”

“No? Is that your answer?” Belinda took a half step forward. “Really? You’re going to do nothing?”

“Waiting is not doing nothing. My decision is final.” The Chair adjusted her meeting notes and returned Frosty’s glare with a sympathetic smile.

“Then I challenge your ruling and call for a council vote, as is my right under Article Five.” Belinda studied the faces of the board.

“Very well. It is your right. All those in favor of my ruling, please say, ‘Aye!’”

“Aye.” Martha raised her right hand to the sounds of silence from the table.

“Those in opposition, please say ‘No,’” the leader called after a few moments with no additional votes.

“Abstentions?” The Chair’s eyebrows wrinkled with puzzled curiosity while three hands from the three members rose into the air to a chorus of, “I abstain.”

“Um, the vote being one in support, none in opposition, and three members in abstention, the ruling of your commander, is affirmed.” Sheila shook her head and brought the gavel down with a crash as she muttered under her breath, “That was interesting.”

The reverberating thunder of the gavel smothered her next words: “What the hell?”

For a brief moment, the room reeled in stunned silence before erupting in whispering conversations between the gathered women of the Sisterhood.

“What just happened?”

“Did you see that?”

“What kind of vote was that?”

The room buzzed with questions and confused uncertainty. Change was no longer in the air; it was all around us like an avalanche.

“Order! Order in the house!” Sheila repeatedly rapped the meeting hammer on its polished oak sounding block. “We have more people than places, meeting stands in recess. We’ll reconvene in ten minutes in the amphitheater.”

The leader sounded the gavel while she rose from her chair and stuffed her paperwork and meeting notes into an embroidered cloth tote-bag emblazoned with the unofficial motto of the sisterhood: “If you can’t do what you love, love what you do.”

Easier said than done.

“Belinda, can I have a word with you for a moment?” I tapped her shoulder to get her attention.

“Oh? Do you want to speak to me?” Her smile flashed like sunshine as she turned to face me. “Or would you rather talk to the Frost Queen?”