IS THERE NOT A CAUSE

R.E. ANTCZAK

Chapter One

One of the most important nights of his life and Drew Richards was stuck in a self checkout line at the Savemart Supercenter. His phone vibrated. He checked the text. It was Jen.

        Where are you?

        He thumbed a reply-

         Sorry. Last minute traffic stop. An hour of paperwork. Be there soon.

        Jen messaged again-

        Hurry! Were suppose to be at my parents in twenty minutes.

        Drew lost the cell back in his jacket. Rather than decipher the signature tattooed on the woman’s neck in front of him, he inspected the bouquet roses in his hand. Several petals showed signs of wilting. Savemart’s best. Not exactly what he’d planned but by the time he’d made it out of the precinct the floral shop had already closed. It'd be alright, though. Jen’s attention wouldn't be on the flowers, anyway.

        He fished a velvet box from his khaki's, opened it. Two carats. Defiantly not a Savemart’s best, but certainly his. The ring was well above what he comfortably afford. But, only for the time being. One more year and he'd be through with law school, trade in his badge for a local firm, giving his pay scale the boost it needed to be worthy of the ring and of Jen. That’s what he’d told himself when he made the purchase a couple months back and what he’d told Jen’s father a few days after, when he’d asked for his daughters hand in marriage. Tonight, after dinner, on bended knee with Jen’s parents looking on, he planned to do just that. That is, if he ever got there. The line still hadn’t moved.

        At the front of the store, a middle aged couple entered dusting snow from their jackets. Drew frowned. The streets were already slick. Traffic was going to get brutal.

        What else could possibly go wrong?

        The woman ahead of him darted toward an open register. Drew secured the ring in his pocket, stepped up for the next available.

        A little girl, all bright eyes and pigtails, shot out of the arcade, wriggled around an oncoming cart, and raced down the front walkway to the women's restroom. Drew might have been indifferent to the incident, thought it just a fleeting observation, but something peculiar caught his eye. A woman, thumbing through pamphlets at the photo shop next to the arcade, had glanced after the girl. It was a subtle gesture. Drew doubted if anyone else had caught it. Certainly not the older boy still in the arcade dancing with a joystick and saving the world from alien invaders. Even if he had, it was a mere glance, seemingly innocent. But still, it was odd how the woman had noticed the girl with her back turned and her attention on the display? Also odd, was the fact that the woman had been in front of the photo shop since he’d gotten in line, and she hadn't pulled a single pamphlet. Her hands were empty…and large. Her shoulders were broad, freakishly so. And, below her coat, her calves were thick and masculine.

        “Hey buddy, you’re up,” someone said.

        At the register, Drew scanned the roses, fed his card into the machine and chanced a look over his shoulder. The woman was gone. He didn't bother with the receipt, just hurried to the front of store.

        Through the exit doors, heavy snowfall blanketed the outside. To his left, the woman who’d stood at the photo shop, with the big hands and masculine calves, was nearing the restroom.

        Drew glanced at the roses, then at the exit, and then back at the woman.

        Don’t do it….

        But she did. She followed after the girl into the restroom. Only, she wasn’t a she. The woman was a man. Drew was certain of it.

        This can’t be happening. Not now!

        A store manager appeared from a darkened checkout lane, hurried past the restrooms. Her hair was short, butch. She growled into a walkie-talkie. Drew heaved a sigh of resolve, turned away from the exit doors, the snowfall, dinner with Jen and her parents, and his marriage proposal, and bee lined towards her.

        “Excuse me, uh...” he read the tag on her vest, “...Alex.”

        The woman silenced her assault into the hand held, snapped, “Can I help you?”

        “There's a little girl in the bathroom, dark hair, brown coat. Could you check on her, make sure she's ok.”

        “Why wouldn't she be?”

        The restroom door was silent. Drew said, “I just watched a man go in there.”

        “A man?”

        “Yes, a man. He has on woman's clothes and a wig. But, he's definitely a man. I saw him go in after the girl.”

        “Okay, well, it is possible the person you saw might be a transgender? He does have a right to be in there.”

        Thorns dug into Drew's palm. He said, “Look, I’m a cop, off duty, I know the law. All I'm asking you to do is check on the girl. See if she's o.k.”

        “Sure,” Alex crossed her arms. “But again, why wouldn't she be?”

        Drew headed for the restroom.

        “Hey, you're not allowed in there!” Alex called for security.

        Drew went in anyway. The bathroom appeared empty. The only sound was the drone from the lights. To Drew's right was a three-sink vanity. Butted against it, a row of stalls. They lined the same wall and created an aisle with the opposite. Drew crossed the room, knocked over a wet floor sign. The hard plastic slapped on the tile. The man, hunched at the farthest door, reeled. His wig was disheveled and hung off center. His whole appearance seemed absurdly bizarre, comical. But, there was nothing funny about his intentions, clearly evident by his twisted expression.

        He charged, tried to barrel past. Drew snatched him up by the coat, slammed him against the wall. The guy let out a grunt but it didn't slow his efforts to try and escape. He struggled to pull away, took a swing. Drew evaded the blow, landed one of his own-a quick jab to the mouth- just as the bathroom door burst open. The man sank to the ground. Alex rushed in, knelt to aid him.

        The man stammered, “I…I was just going to bathroom. He attacked me!”

        Alex glared up at Drew, “What's wrong with you?”

        Several others had entered behind her, a security guard, a couple kids holding cell phones recording the scene. A woman, frantic and worried looking, shouldered past Drew and scooped up the little girl who'd come out of the stall.

        The rose bouquet that Drew had bought for Jen lay scattered and trampled. Everyone stared at him. Not like he'd just saved a little girl from some sick pervert, but like he was the monster.

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