On my left, stood the small town library. Next to the library was the town hall and police station. If I turned left and drove another two blocks I would hit the local hardware store. That would have to wait. Instead, I turned right on to Hazel Street.
I slowed at number 305 and saw the little white house was a little rundown but for the most part identical to my memories. This had been Marc’s house.
My brain automatically skipped back to that last night with Marc at the quarry. The night I had learned not to be afraid. The night Marc had never made it home.
A thorough investigation had been conducted but after a month the authorities had given up the search for my missing best friend. Not a trace of him could be found, not even his bike. I had been devastated. Was he dead? Was he alive? I think the not knowing had been the hardest part.
I wondered what kind of family lived in this house now? Did they know what had happened all those years ago? Did they have a young boy of their own who moved into Marc’s room and made it his own?
I wasn’t certain what had become of Marc’s dad but back then, in the years following Marc’s disappearance, he had almost drunk himself to death on several occasions. He had eventually had Marc pronounced legally dead and a funeral had been held four years later. I didn’t attend. I had already made my move to California and didn’t bother to come home. I couldn’t. I told myself everyone would understand my absence because I was in the police academy and busy but the truth was that I couldn’t stand the thought of burying my best friend; especially without a best friend to bury.
For all anyone knew, Marc was still alive somewhere. Maybe he had just finally hopped that train like he always dreamed of and was climbing Mount Everest right now? I had never really accepted that he was gone. I couldn’t fathom how Marc could have just vanished on the ride home from my house and no sign of him was found. Not unless he had wanted it that way.
That night had changed my life forever. I had gone to bed that night so excited and full of hope and awakened to a nightmare. My best friend was gone. To this day it remained a mystery.
A fluttering curtain in Marc’s old window woke me from my thoughts. Imagining I saw someone peaking out, I sped up and headed to my folks place.
Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Six
My street looked the exact same as it had ten years ago and as the darkness I had felt in front of Marc’s lifted, nostalgia for home took it’s place in waves. The few phone calls home had been few and far between. I had missed my folks and I had missed this house. I didn’t realize how much until I pulled up out front of childhood home.
I loved that my parents still together after 40 years. That was hard to find in the city but not as uncommon here. Here families tended to stay together. I was an only child and I never wanted to have siblings. I didn’t feel like I had missed out on anything. Most of my childhood friends had tons of brothers and sisters and they fought over everything or had to share. Not me. I had all Ma and Pa’s attention to myself and it showed. I wasn’t spoiled per se but I was their late baby so I garnered a lot of attention.
My dad was home every night and my mom was a stay at home until I got older. When I had entered high school Ma had taken a part time job at the library just to keep herself busy. Despite both my folks working I was never lonely. I had Marc and he was as close to a brother as I could have ever wanted.
I had been happy and content. And then Marc went missing and something inside me shifted. I had to get out. Maybe I was just doing it because it’s what Marc always wanted. Maybe in my own way I was living out the life he had always wanted because he couldn’t. Maybe I was searching for him in all the dark places just hoping to find him and prove to myself he hadn’t really died but that he was out living it up. That maybe I’d come across him and we’d be friends again like no time had passed. Maybe the captain was right, maybe I needed my head shrunk.
Is everything ok?
I pulled up to the front of my childhood home and Ma opened the door. She came out onto the wide front porch wiping her hands on her apron. She hadn’t changed a bit. My heart swelled and I got out of my truck and almost ran to the front porch.
Ma wrapped me in a big hug, “Welcome home, son.”
“Hi ma.”
She patted my cheek and kissed it for good measure. I held her at arms length and took a good look at her. She looked a little weathered but still beautiful with golden hair laced with silver. Freckles still spattered the bridge of her nose and her eyes were still the color of corn blue flowers; bright as always.
“You look good mom. You haven’t aged a day.”
“Well thank you, dear, but you look like you’ve seen better days; tired and much too skinny.”
I laughed, “Gee thanks! Don’t hold back.”
“Well it’s true. I’m glad your home. Some rest from that fast paced California lifestyle, some good fattening up and you’ll be right as rain.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said picking her up and swinging her around. Coming home had been a good idea. Mom was right. The captain was right. I needed a little bit of home and I didn’t even realize how badly until this very moment.
“Where’s dad?”
“Oh he’s at the hardware store getting another tool to fix that garage door.”
“I swear, he’s ben working on that thing since I left!”
“You know how your dad likes to putter. I think he just likes going down to the hardware store. Even on his days off he can’t stay outta that place. She always was his mistress.”
“Oh mom, you know there will never be anyone as important to dad as you, not even his tools.”
“Let’s stop yakking out here in the porch. Grab your things and take them to your room. I’ve got food on the stove. I’m making all your favorites.”
“Thanks ma. I’ll take a cup of coffee if that’s ok?”
“Ok? This is your home too baby and you are welcome to anything in it. And you know where the coffee pot is.”
I laughed. She was all about babying me and then when I come to expect it she shoves me back out the nest.
Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Seven
I went to the kitchen and made a cup of black coffee. I carried it with my bags to my old room.
I switched on the light, and set my cup down on the dresser. Mom had cleaned it but the old smells still lingered. Ma had washed everything and kept it spic and span. I guess she had been hoping for this visit for a long time
From my room I could hear her happily singing and banging pots and pans around as she set to making dinner. Happy as a clam.
I set my suitcase on the foot of the bed and unpacked my few belongings. When I was done storing my belongings in the dresser and closet I poked through my old desk and stared at the pictures on the wall. I found a picture of Marc and I, with our bikes, out front of the house. I unpinned the picture and took it with me to my bed where I sat down.
It still hurt all these years later not knowing what had happened to the friend I had. I propped the photo up against the light on the night table and laid back on the bed and with my hands folded under my head
I stared up at the ceiling. It was so quiet hear. I was so used to noises of traffic rushing but here those sounds were replaced by the sounds of birds chirping and wind in the leaves of the trees. The tinkle of children’s laughter replaced the sounds of horns honking and people shouting. The smells of moms cooking, fresh cut grass and cow manure replaced the smells of burning oil, smog and Mexican food trucks. It was a lovely replacement and it wasn’t long before I drifted to sleep on a sea of relaxation.
Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Eight
I woke to a dark room and at first I couldn’t remember where I was. I hadn’t dreamt and that was also a first in many years. Usually I dream heavily. My dreams always felt so real; shooting my gun, the bullet making its way to the end of the barrel and then plopping uselessly on the ground while an unidentifiable evil attacks. The events in my dream always happen in slow motion, l
ike running through quicksand, and the only thing moving at normal speed is the danger that I face.
Sometimes I dream that the bad guy has shot everyone around me and he’s coming after me at full speed but I cant pull the trigger no matter how hard I try. I squeeze and squeeze the trigger so hard and I know its all my fault that everyone else is dead. I couldn’t save them.
Every cop has these nightmares, or so I’ve been told. It’s normal. It still sucked.
I switched on the light and walked into the bathroom to wash my face. My coffee cup remained half full and untouched. The coffee was cold but I drank it down in one gulp and splashed cold water on my face.
I changed into a pair of running pants, my running shoes and a sweatshirt. I crept quietly to the kitchen, careful not to wake my folks.
The kitchen was dark save the light over the oven, which illuminated a note from mom.
Didn’t want to wake you. There is a plate in the oven for you.
I peeked in the oven and smelled deliciousness. My mouth began to water but first, a run.
I stepped out onto the front porch and into the cool night air. I inhaled deeply, jogged to the sidewalk and turned left down the moonlit street.
I jogged slowly at first, working out the travel kinks in my leg and trying to get my bearings. I sped up a little as I reached the corner and felt my stride lengthen as the cool clean air filled my lungs. Nothing moved. It was after eleven p.m. and the town was tucked in for the night.
A few houses had little lights on in the windows but not one car passed me. I jogged three blocks before I hit the end of the lane and I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared off down the lane and breathed harder than my little jog warranted.
I stood still for a moment contemplating my next move and then with nervous resolution I headed towards the quarry.
Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Nine
Twenty minutes later I reached the quarry and I nervously ventured towards the spot where I had learned to be brave. A chain link fence now surrounded the jump spot. I walked the length of the fence and found a spot where the local kids had cut a kid-sized hole. I bent my six-foot frame down and squeezed through the hole. I caught my running pants on a ragged piece of fence and tore a small hole.
Dammit.
I touched a drop of blood on my leg where the hole bared the skin of my right thigh. Great. Home twenty-four hours and I am already going to need a tetanus shot.
I walked through the clearing to the jumping ledge and peered down at the dark water below. The water seemed closer than I remembered it.
“What are you doing?” A voice startled me.
I spun around to a flashlight blinding my vision.
The voice continued, “You planning on jumping?”
“Could you get that out of my eyes?”
The flashlight lowered to my chest. “Sorry, Officer Johnson, Harmony P.D. This here is restricted area.”
“Kirk? Is that you?”
“Depends on whose asking. Do I know you?”
“Its me, Jason Camden.”
“Well holyyyyyyy shiiiiit!” The flashlight clicked off and now I was blind. I blinked trying to get my night vision to return.
Kirk reached out and pumped my hand furiously, “Man, what are you doing home?”
I retrieve my hand from Kirks, “Came in this morning. Just home for a little visit. When did you become a cop?”
“What? You think you have a monopoly on a law enforcement career?” Kirk punched me in the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “After you left I farted around a bit. Went to college for a few years but it wasn’t for me. Came home and had to get serious. Kid on the way. I actually started off as a state trooper and then brought law and order home a few years back. Man, how many years has it been?”
“A few. I heard you married Bridget Holloway.”
“Sure did. When got knocked up she told me I better get my shit together so I took the test and I’ve been running these red white and blues ever since.”
“That’s great man. Congrats.”
“Thanks. So, what exactly are you doing out here?”
“Nothing really, I just went for a run and nostalgia got the best of me. I came in here to check out the old haunt. When did they put the fence up?”
“A few years back some kids were drinking and diving, like we all used to do, only this time a kid drowned. The kid’s dad and mom got all uppity about it and now they have the fence so they cant jump no more.”
“I’m surprised it hadn’t happened before now.”
“No shit. Remember all those times we used to come here and you were too scared to jump?”
“I sure do.”
“And then what’s his face tried to kick your ass over it and you never came back again.”
“JT.”
“Yes! I wonder whatever happened to that guy?”
“I didn’t stop coming here because of JT.”
“Was it because of Marc? You were the last one to see him right? You guys came out here that night?”
“Yeah but he and I rode home. That was the last time I saw him.”
“That’s a bummer man. I hate to cut our reminiscing short but I need to get back out on patrol.” Kirk turned his flashlight back on, “Um, seriously, you can’t be in here. Can I give you a lift?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
As we drove the distance home, Kirk grilled me about my job in the “big city.”
“What’s it like there?”
“Hot.”
“Ocean breezes though so who could hate that?”
“It’s not like that. Gangs, run down neighborhoods, drugs everywhere. It gets pretty wild out there.”
“I bet you see a lot of action, don’t you?”
“More than I care to,” I lied.
“So awesome, man. How long are you here for?”
“Probably just a few days but we will see. I’m going to spend some time catching up with my folks.”
“Awesome.” Kirk pulled the patrol car up to the curb in front of my home. “Stop by the precinct some time and we will catch up.”
I got out of the car and then before shutting the door I asked, “Hey, were there ever any leads on Marc?”
“Not that I know of. I think we had some light duty officer who got bored and look at his old file as a cold case for like half a minute back in the 90’s but there weren’t any leads to follow up on. I can probably dig it up for you if you want to take a look at it?”
“Really?”
“Why not? A little professional courtesy wouldn’t hurt.”
“Thanks I think I just might take you up on that.” I shut the car door and kirk slowly pulled off into the night with a little friendly twirl of his emergency lights.
Chapter One Hundred Seventy
I went up the steps and tried to be as quiet as I when I had left. A dark shadow spoke from the recliner in the living room and made me jump.
“Hello son.”
I flipped on the kitchen light and couldn’t hold back the grim that lit up my face. “Hey pops.”
Dad stood from his chair, crossed to the kitchen and hugged me hard. I hugged him back and he held me a little longer than I had expected. “It’s good to have you home boy.”
“Its good to be home dad.”
“You want something to eat? You missed supper.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Mom was worried about you and wanted to let you sleep.”
“Sure pop, I’d love something to eat.”
I took a seat at the tiny kitchen table and watched as Pop heated the leftovers Mom had kept in the oven. It smelled so good. Fried chicken, mashed potato’s and green beans straight from mom’s garden. Heaven. My dad made himself a cup of warm milk and watched me as I ate.
“Did you go for a run?”
“Yes. I know it’s a little late but I woke up and needed to work the kinks out.”
“How was it?”
“Good. I almost forgot wh
at fresh air smelled like. Town looks the same. Nothing seems to have changed.”
“It has but not so as you’d notice much was. Was that Kirk Johnson dropping you off?”
“I ran into him down by the quarry. He gave me a ride back.”
“What were you doing down there?”
“Remembering, I guess. There’s a fence around it now. I guess he was patrolling the area when he found me. We got to talking. Kinda funny running into an old friend like that on my first night back.”
“I don’t remember you two being friends as kids.”
“We weren’t, really. He was a couple years older than me but I remember him.”
“He married that Holloway girl and they have a daughter now.”
“He told me.” My fathers face had a disapproving look on it. “What’s the matter Pop? You don’t sound like you like him too much.”
“He’s a bully.”
“How so?”
“He throws his weight around and rules with an iron fist.”
I laughed out loud. “Now pops, cops are kinda just like that.”
“Are you like that?”
“Sometimes. When I have to be.”
“Harmony is a far cry from the city of Roland.”
“True but cop work is cop work and sometimes you have to put your boots on and then down on someone’s neck to get them to behave. You don’t have any big problems here do you?”
“No.”
“Well maybe some of the reason you don’t is due to the fact that Kirk a little bit of a bully.”
“Maybe. I still don’t like him.”
“It’s ok, pop. You don’t have to like everybody. Isn’t that what you always told me?”
Pop sat there silently as I cleaned my plate. I poured myself a cup of cold coffee from the pot and warmed it up in the microwave.
“Won’t that keep you up?”
Roland P D Omnibus Page 33