Miles Sanchez drove some 30 miles north of the city to conduct a background check on Henry De La Vega. He was alone just like Lyca Menendez driving his beat-up vehicle to get from point A to B. It is the fastest way to get results as long as the office allows their gasoline reimbursement.
He was a bear of a guy, really heavy set, and was just too proud to announce to anyone he was just recently married. The metallic ring in his finger shone brightly when the ray of the sun hit his hand. Some of the silvery glints would hit his eyes and some inside his old 70's Volkswagen. A wedding photo was neatly tucked near the car radio to remind Miles of the happy times in his life. His wife is 7 months pregnant and he had high hopes that she will deliver a boy. The name wasn't chosen as well but as he often said, he will cross the bridge when he gets there.
Miles arrived at the address he was given --The Palindrome Drive, West Hill Compound. He was looking for a row of houses but the house that greeted him is found alone in a vast expanse of the grassy knoll, dried trees, and a long stretch of unpaved road. A dilapidated sign in an iron gate said, 'Enter" and it was not much of a gate but sheathes of discarded galvanized roofing wrapped around barbed wire acting more like a fence to ward off scavengers. Miles entered the premises and he saw two young scavengers cutting up an old abandoned vehicle.
"Hey, can I ask a question?"
But before he could finish his question the two scavengers ran away. In front of him was an old abandoned building. It's cracked walls inhabited by wild ivy plants that ran through its Neo-classical façade. It was probably one of those great architecturally designed houses back in its heyday. But as Miles looked at it now, there's not much left of it's 'deco' arches and carved statues. Its broken windows have dagger-like shards of glass still hanging on some of its edges.
"Is someone living here?" he mumbled.
He entered the building from one of its opened doors. The inside was particularly dingy and the sound of water dripping from a broken pipe can be heard nearby. The smell of the surrounding was particularly moldy with a hint of dried excrement. But the inside was practically rotten and the sunlight that pierced through one of the broken windows exposed a long winding staircase that reminded Miles of an old cinema. Most of the areas in the building were unusually dark so he took out his small portable flashlight to light up the dark passageway in front of him. He heard a loud thud up ahead so he lighted up his way towards the next room. The room had old rusty kitchen fixtures and he could see broken cups and utensils scattered on the floor. He sensed movement in the room. His heartbeat shot up. Something was not right. He positioned his hand on his holster ready to pull out his gun.
"Is anyone in there?" Miles shouted.
"This is the police! Show yourself up!"
He lighted up the torn ceiling and some of the broken furniture. He saw a dirty cloth covering one of the room windows. He pulled it out to let the light pass. Suddenly, something jumped out from the window ledge towards his chest. He instantly fell from the blunt force.
"F_ck!" He aimed his gun and realized it was a furry white cat.
The cat has 'heterochronic eyes'- one eye is emerald color and the other-gold.
"Meow!" the cat greeted him. Then, it simply just walked casually out of his sight.
Miles let out a deep sigh. He was lying on his back when his phone suddenly rang. Miles quickly got up and went outside of the building as he answered his phone.
"Where are you, Miles?" It was Jorge Velez.
"Just like you told me, sir. I went to check Mr. De La Vega's residence address. I am in...."
Jorge Velez massaged his eyeball slightly inching towards his forehead. Perhaps the uncertainty is getting to his nerves.
"What do you see? Describe it to me."
Miles looked around. The landscape can only be described as apocalyptic. Rusty old buildings. Piles of garbage.
"Boss, we have a bad start."
"Why is that?" Jorge asked.
"Well, the address you gave me is correct. I double-checked everything. Uh…. I am in an…old, dingy, abandoned building in the middle of nowhere and this place is unfit for human habitation."
"Are you sure?
"I am pretty confident I am seeing a lot of rust, dirt, and garbage everywhere. I think we got taken for a ride. This address is fake as f_ck."
"Sh_t!" Jorge exclaimed. He placed his palm on his forehead thinking.
"Miles. Got any neighbors in there you can talk to?"
"Well, the nearest neighbor is 5 kilometers away. Except for a cat, there's not a soul here we can ask."
"Okay, come back as soon as you can. Help me out here sort out the other evidence."
"Okay, sir."
Miles was about to leave the building when he heard a movement behind him.
"Stop, young man!" said an old woman's voice.
Miles looked back and saw an old woman holding a white cat with 'heterochromic' eyes. She projected a striking ghostly image with her long flowing white hair and brown colored deep-seated eyes. She wore an old white duster with a black bandana tied to her waist.
"I am Police officer Miles Sanchez, mam. I was knocking earlier. Mam, may I know your name."
Miles took out his notebook to jot down the information.
"Yes, I heard you call. The building is so big and I can only do small steps. My name is Marian. What can I do for you?"
"Marian, mam, are you living here?"
"Yes, in fact, I have been here for the longest time I can remember."
"Are you here alone?"
"I am and my cat Benny. My nephews come here when I need food and medicine. But that's few and far between."
Miles is shaking his head.
"I see. Mam, I am looking for Henry De La Vega? Is he around?
The old woman's face suddenly went gloomy. She was not ready to hear that name from her past. The cat Benny jumped out of her arms and began to lick Miles shoelaces.
"This is not right," she said.
"What is not right, mam?" Miles asked. He tried to shoo away the cat but it seems to like his shoe for whatever reason.
The old woman tried to make sense of what she heard from Miles. It's not simply just right to hear the name. She was on the verge of crying. As if the past is getting caught up with her and she simply was not prepared to hear the name again. The old woman picked up the cat and led him to move in a corner which the cat obliged.
"Why are you looking for him?"
Miles is just as perplexed by the old woman's question.
"I am investigating a case mam. His recent government-issued ID points to this address and I am confirming if he lives here."
The old woman cried in disbelief. The name is too precious and remembering it again opens up the past. She tried to control her emotion but the tear welled up in her eyes.
She cried," Henry De la Vega is dead for fifty years!"