But before Nora could take a step away, a quivering voice stopped her.
“Savannah?”
It rang clear above the sweltering silence, and its tone parted the group to make way for it. An elderly woman, older than the others, caned her way forward, her head nearly visible under the other’s shoulders. When she managed to shuffle to Nora, she fixed her wide glasses to a higher spot on the bridge of her nose to get a closer look and gave a lovely smile. The small knot in Nora’s chest untied itself without warning, and she found herself sighing in relief.
“Grace,” Nora welcomed.
Grace patted her arm softly, returning the greeting in kind, “Nora. You look prettier every time I see you.”
And she looked back to the others in disdain, “Gals, I expect a little better of you. There’s nothing wrong with a word every now and then, but I didn’t expect to come back to a lynching.”
The Watch was powerful enough, but Grace’s word was law. She lived on these streets when they were first being paved, and age aside her personality was enough to win the role of president of the neighborhood watch. Despite her dainty appearance, she led with an iron fist. She took the job very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that hope sparked in Nora’s eyes. If anyone saw Savannah, it was her. Grace was who Nora had come here for.
And she didn’t disappoint. After smacking her lips, she announced, “I saw her last night.”
“You did?” Nora asked, “Do you remember when and where?”
The old woman held an arm out and waved it towards the detective, still standing in a daze, “You’re the new detective, aren’t you? Come this way. Let me get a good look at you.”
Despite her vigilance, the woman was easily distracted.
Daniel blinked, coming to, and stepped next to her. Grace looked him up and down, and when she was satisfied with what she saw she hooked her arm in his and freely leaned against him. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and even tried to pull one of the foldable chairs over so she could sit, but she ignored the gesture and made herself a spot by his side.
Nora grinned in spite of herself, “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”
“Yes. A little short, but they’ve got shoes to fix that. Perfect height for lil’ old me,” Grace said, nonchalant. Ignoring Daniel’s guffaw, she shamelessly continued, “Savannah. I saw her out my window on my way to bed. She was wearing that nice white dress, off-the-shoulder, lacy around the hem. Too short. I always told her it was too short, but her ears aren’t very good because she never listens…. And it must have been a little after ten. I haven’t been getting good rest recently, you see, but Dr. Taz’s about ready to have me looked at by the end of this week so I’m not too worried….”
Grace lived closest to Wukong street, about three houses down from the bustling intersection and dazzling neon signs. She never complained about the crowds or condemned the people who went there, but accepted that young people would act like young people would. She would watch with her weary, bespectacled eyes, and was the first to report when a fight broke out across the street, away from her jurisdiction. She had offered a few wasted souls comfort and safety when they stumbled across the border and provided a spot under her roof’s stoop for girls to wait for a safe ride home. A saint, Grace was. It’s what made her supremacy unrivaled.
Her tangent about her next doctor visit drifted for a bit, but then she suddenly paused, a revelation coming to her, “You know, I saw him too! Just a little bit after, walking in the same direction.”
The crowd leaned forward, intrigued.
“Who did you see?” the detective asked, finally finding his voice again.
[Late night, a simple house squeezed in a row of houses. Grace sits at a small table next to her bedroom window, sipping her tea. The dusty lamp beside her glows, a beacon to those stumbling outside. She watches and waits in case someone needs her.
Clacking. On the pavement below, a frustrated girl struts to Wukong Street, her tantrum dwindling on its last wisps of hot steam. She pauses at the intersection, waiting for the heavy stream of cars to allow her to cross, the only busy street in a half-mile radius, and she gathers herself. Straightens her hair. Touches the hem of her dress. Pulls a compact mirror from her handbag and assesses that her makeup is still in place. She huffs, pleased that she didn’t manage to cry. The last conversation was a doozy, but she’s stronger than that. She’s strong. Just watch. She’ll walk across this street with pride, and nothing will stop her.
The walk signal turns green, and she’s on her way. A few men whistle at her as she walks past, and suddenly she’s in the night district of Wukong Street. The neon signs throw shades of hot pink and vibrant green on her shoulders, and she embraces them. She disappears under their glow, sucked into the buzzing crowd. Grace finds herself sighing at the sudden loss and mumbles a silent prayer. Stay safe, little one.
Not a second later, another figure catches her eye. He slips out from those straying at the entrance of the district, arriving from a different direction some far ways off. He’s dressed lightly, in black shirt and black skinny jeans, a black cap’s brim turned away from his eyes. Tattoos of varying dark ink climb up both his arms, covering his sleeves. He’s sketchy -suspicious, even- but Grace recognizes him and doesn’t feel a speck of fear. Despite his intimidating appearance, he’s a good boy, just a year older than the girl who’d strut in.
And his eyes follow the girl, not in a threatening way, but one of acknowledgement. He watches her who, out of sight, turns through some unknown entrance. Intrigue. Not another moment passes before he follows her, and just as soon as he appeared he’s gone with the crowd.]
Nora turned to the wall, it’s mecha-painted glory towering over, “Rex?”
The name wasn’t familiar to those who heard it, save for a few who all followed her glance.
“Was that his name? The artist fellow?” Grace asked.
Nora nodded.
It certainly made sense. Rex was a graffiti artist who’d stumbled into town as an abandoned middle-school graduate. He worked odd jobs at nearby convenience stores to support himself, and he was no stranger to the workings of Wukong Street. He’d be familiar with Savannah, a girl close to his age who passed through countless nights. If he was still in school, they’d probably be classmates. She was someone he was interested in, and he wasn’t creepy enough to turn that interest into something more, but he’d at least keep tabs on a pretty girl if he saw her.
And saw her he did, according to Grace’s statement.
Good. A lead.
It took some time to peel away from The Watch. Despite Nora’s ability to silence them to cold stares, they clung on with wiry fingers and breathed unneeded advice down their necks. The detective was the quickest to pull the duo out of the crowd, promising nothings, and the two trekked off. Simona called after them. She ordering Nora to get off work early to allow some time for herself even if this circumstance required her full attention, but the suggestion was waved away. No. Finding Savannah came first.
There were too many places to look for their artist. Rex was notorious for hiding away in corners no one bothered to check. Nora, being more familiar with the neighborhood than her partner, didn’t hesitate to take the lead in their search, winding through the many alleyways and side streets of Wonsung-du, but it was only until she lifted the grate off of a wide gutter hidden off the side of a tunneled walkway that Daniel decided to say something.
“He’s not gonna be in there—”
She disappeared, the sound of boots splashing drain water the only response the detective received. A moment passed, then two. He listened as her steps receded down some unknown path, and then suddenly she was back, her pants soaked and a gross smell clinging to her clothes.
“He’s not in there,” she announced.
“Really?” the detective didn’t hide his sarcasm, “I thought you were onto something this time.”
“I was,” Nora replied, swiveling her phone’s light to the gutter wall behind her. Streaks of vibrant color flashed, and it carried all the way back, to the edges of the sewer space they couldn’t quite see.
“He’s filled this place up. It wasn’t like this the last time,” she continued. She stepped out and started to fit the grate back in place, and when she was done she started to lead the way without him, “Which means he probably found a new spot for practice. Keep up, will you?”
He opened his mouth but found he couldn’t argue. She was already off, and the detective had no choice but to follow.
Instead of walking deeper into the neighborhood, Nora cut a corner and led them out towards the river. The stacked houses got larger, the narrow streets wider, and suddenly the buildings disappeared altogether, opening up to empty plots of dirt and weeds. The asphalt under their feet broke up until it was nothing more than stray pieces, and they followed a worn trail, the setting sun hanging just high enough to peek into their eyes. Daniel had to shield his face, despite wearing sunglasses, and quickly fell behind.
“It’s going to get dark soon,” Nora finally said when he slowed them to a pace she couldn’t handle, “If you can’t hurry up I’ll go by myself. It’ll probably be quicker that way.”
“I don’t trust you,” he quickly responded, swatting a tall weed out of his way, “I’m fine. Where are you taking us?”
She didn’t answer. He’d know soon enough. She slowed her steps a bit, a kind gesture that went unnoticed by the detective, and they walked side-by-side for the rest of the trek. It didn’t take long for Nora to regret that decision. He had enough room to talk now.
“So you know this kid? His name was Rex, right?”
Nora nodded, “I see him around more often than not. He moved into the neighborhood at around the same time I did. I used to buy him meals, let him crash on my couch. Stuff like that.”
“Huh,” he paused, “I didn’t take you for someone who’d do that.”
Nora smiled, amused.
“You shouldn’t take me for anything. We’ve barely met.”
“That’s not what you said this morning,” he quipped back, “I apparently saved your life.”
“You did. What’s your point?”
“No point. I’m just trying to figure you out.”
It was true. Throughout their walk, Nora had been silent, but she was listening. Questions flitted themselves back and forth inside the detective’s head, some making more sense than others. They asked about the missing girl, the disappeared artist, and a complicated, colorful neighborhood watch that had information but seemed too biased to deliver it correctly. And then there was her. Nora Lee. The biggest mystery in Detective Moon’s mind was trying to unravel Nora’s place in all of this; an outsider, definitely, but one who acted like she wasn’t.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Nora finally caved, “You’re annoying me.”
The detective was confused, “I’m annoying you?”
“Yeah. If you want to say anything then say it out loud. It’s easier to answer your questions that way.”
“But are you willing to answer my questions?”
Nora grumbled under her breath. Not if he wasn’t going to ask them.
Nora whacked a final weed out of the way and found herself back on paved road, a small running trail. It snaked parallel to the river and overlooked it via a flat hill. She brushed the burs off of her legs and immediately descended, making way for the water, and the detective stuck close to her side, propping her up when she missed her footing. They continued like this until they made it to the river’s edge.
“What, he likes swimming?” Daniel frowned, noticing the spray paint on the concrete wall of the riverside.
“The tide goes down sometimes,” she answered, “Look. You can see it on the other side, too.”
It was true- across the river, a great 100-meter distance, he could barely make out the tops of light-handed scrawls.
They scanned the river’s edge. The bridge to the main city was close enough to watch without having to make the jog over, and a leg closest to their side was gorgeously decorated in clusters of blue forget-me-nots, vibrant against cold steel.
“If we don’t find him there tonight, he’ll be there tomorrow,” Nora pointed, “See those? They need a touch up. That’s next on his list.”
“How do you know that?” the detective asked, and then, before she could answer, “How do you know so much??”
There was more to his question than a simple answer would allow. She peeked at him from over her shoulder, as nonchalant as possible, and replied, “I make it my business to know. Is there a problem with that?”
It’s not like he would believe the real answer anyways.
“Usually, yes,” he responded.
She gave a smug grin and pulled her legs out from the mud at their feet, and they made their backtracked to the trail, heading away from the bridge and escaping its growing shadow. Silence exchanged between them before Daniel finally tossed it to the side.
“The Watch—”
“What about them?” Nora asked, “I was waiting for you to mention them. They’re a handful, aren’t they?”
“That’s an understatement. I can’t believe you let them attack me like that” he growled. Her grin grew wider.
“But they didn’t attack you,” he added, “What was that about? I doubt they believe you’re Little Miss Perfect.”
“Oh, I’m far from it,” she agreed, “But I’ve been here a lot longer than you have. They ran out of things to say.”
That wasn’t necessarily true, of course. She heard plenty of their jabs without them opening their mouths.
“No, that wasn’t it,” Daniel wasn’t convinced, “It was more like they couldn’t say anything. You blackmail them too?”
“You really want me behind bars, don’t you?”
“Guilty.”
“Then wait until after we find Savannah,” Nora quickened her pace, “That’ll give me enough time to go into hiding. From the looks of things you aren’t good at finding people, but I’m just taking you with me so you can prove me wrong.”
A scowl- she was still good at avoiding questions- before he grumbled, “I’m the one taking you. You reported her missing, so why are you still hanging around?”
A simple question, with a simple answer. Nora stopped, somewhat caught off guard, and replied, “Because she’d want me to look.”
“Not if she ran away,” the detective argued.
“And if she didn’t? That’s what I’m here for.”
A pause. Something sounded off in the distance- a horn blaring, the rustling of tall grass, and another minute noise under the rest of it, something she couldn’t quite name. Nora looked around for it. In front of her, the path finally intersected with a road that split away to an empty, abandoned parking lot, and over a patch of brambles and shrubs she could make out an intricate lily sprayed onto the dark road in its far corner.
“Do you see that?” she asked, pointing to it. The detective tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.
“That looks fresh,” he said.
“What? You can tell from here?”
“You can’t smell it??”
She sniffed. Barely a hint, but the smell of paint fumes.
And the small sound lilted again, similar to a subtle scraping with a hint of air.
“That’s a spray can,” Nora said.
