DR. Rails was nothing without the status he built from ashes after his divorce. A very talented doctor with a thriving private practice. The neighborhood where the mega-elite blended and was camouflaged from the large, populated urban city of Salt Lake, Utah. He had inherited old money from his grandfather, a celebrated psychiatrist who enjoyed serving the state’s VIP clientele. For his reward, a proverbial key was gifted to him, opening the gates of the most powerful bank. So, he was always the winning bidder at auctions for rare sculptures, paintings, automobiles, and, of course, jewelry fit for royalty, adding to his one-of-a-kind collections.
“Son, they all could be easily stolen in museums; there lay cracks, security weaknesses, even where the magnetic Mona Lisa is kept is fragile at best.” DR. Rails’ thoughts came right along like rising flames. His father never elaborated and whispered nothing about the whereabouts of his increasingly gathering treasures. Just that they were being well cared for. DR. Rails said, as if he were there in the room: “Father, I have something that commands all matter, even fire, and it’s all mine.
DR. Rails looked down at his open palm; there in the center was the authentic Scarlet Owl. He rolled it in his open palm; the large belly of the diamond glowed unmistakably red. The claws of the horned owl hugged it tightly, and the horned ears were sharp as thorns, as they were thick like its puffed beak. It was made of solid gold, platinum, and uranium. It was a spectacle to behold, nothing he’d ever seen and not anything that could be conceived. He took off his yellow tie, then his striped coat, and sat on his silver, high-backed leather chair. He was having trouble catching his breath; he put the Scarlet Owl into his safe behind a mantel covered with unusual imported clocks.
DR. J. Kisperr Rails was the Phoenix, and he texted, “Follow my order; the finisher, perhaps, is safe. Nelson can never leave the desert canyons.” His left hand shook as he typed the last word on the phone screen.
The Surreal Forces Admiral sent a selfie with a thumbs up. The piranhas swam in the dressing mirror’s reflection beside him.
Suddenly, there was a rapid knock on the door. DR. Rails stood up and went straight to the mantel, his left hand raised to hold one corner for steadiness.
“Where is my daughter?” Ivory’s Mom could only hear the ceiling fan slowly turning, and for the moment, it was the only response.
“She’s fine, damni it, “DR. Rails said.
“Sure. Don’t worry. You know Silverback has just returned from his criminal dealings in Arizona for the Mountain Gorillas?”
“Take a nap, honey; you’ll need it before the late flight I reserved,” DR. Rails sighed. : It was all that was available.”
“Flight? NO. She turned her shoulder to look at him directly. “Your skin looks as grey as that desk chair.”
“You will do precisely as I ask,” DR. Rails said. “The Canyons- hell, all of Utah has become insanely dangerous. Surpassing Yellowstone, and assuredly Yosemite. Read the latest local edition. Take my e-reader.” DR. Rails watched her reach for it on his desk.
“Can’t leave.” She reluctantly held the tablet with the large print. She glanced at the article’s first sentence, her thumb partially covering the first word on the caption: “Senior Park Ranger reported earlier today of a torso floating down a river channel; A dark backpack with a tri-fold wallet, bison jerky, and a steel water bottle was left behind on an undisclosed trail. Special Investigators from multiple principalities have invaded the canyonlands in hopes of finding any evidence to help reveal this gruesome serial murderer puzzle.”
“I won’t leave my daughter alone to deal with what’s happening.” She left him there with the wooden tray that carried iced teas and a mango-topped cheesecake slice.
DR. Rails started to feel warm around his forehead, and sweat broke through the designer fabric of his collar. Just the typical heat wearing me down, but he wasn’t totally convinced. Yet, he had resilience and the Scarlet Horned Owl.
Celia Garza 