Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

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Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever? Page 10

by Dave Eggers


  —Who cares what she thinks? She doesn’t understand.

  —Not even close, right? Jesus, I’m wired.

  —So what’ll you do the rest of the night?

  —I don’t know. But I feel like I can will anything to happen.

  —You’re in the zone.

  —Shit, I did have this one idea. I thought it was outside my reach completely, but now I’m not so sure.

  —What is it?

  —I shouldn’t say. It wouldn’t happen. Even thinking it is pretty illegal.

  —Thomas, you’re unstoppable. You never know. Like you said, things are happening for you. What was the idea?

  —Well, I thought of going back to Marview and getting a cop.

  —A cop? Like a police officer?

  —Yeah. It’s stupid I know.

  —And then bring him here?

  —Yeah. Is that nuts?

  —You wouldn’t hurt him?

  —I haven’t hurt anyone.

  —Then I think you should give it a shot.

  —Really? I don’t think I can pull it off.

  —What? You got me, right? How much harder could a cop be?

  —You weren’t armed.

  —Thomas, this is your time. This is all the coal of your life compressed into a diamond.

  —Maybe I get an older cop.

  —Take your pick. You’re unstoppable. You might be invincible.

  —I’ll find the right one.

  —There you go.

  —I’ll bring him back.

  —It’ll be a cinch.

  —Wish me luck.

  —Good luck, Thomas.

  BUILDING 57

  —Wow, this is the greatest week of my life.

  —

  —Sorry. You probably don’t understand that.

  —

  —Okay, comparatively, it’s not such a good week for you. You’ve been, well, I guess you’ve been brought here. I just mean that bringing an astronaut here was hard, but getting an actual cop here … Jesus. Kev said I was invincible and now I know it’s true. Shit, I forgot to tell him. I’ll be back.

  BUILDING 52

  —You were right, my man.

  —

  —Kev? You asleep?

  —What’s that?

  —It’s me.

  —You’re back?

  —I am. And I got one.

  —You got what?

  —A cop, man. Just like you said. And he was easier than you.

  —Oh shit.

  —What?

  —You brought him here?

  —He’s two buildings over.

  —Unharmed?

  —He’s fine.

  —And you weren’t followed?

  —Nothing. He was alone. I left his phone right there on the street.

  —Oh Jesus.

  —What? It’s true. I’m unstoppable. You were right.

  —He’s okay?

  —He’s fine. What are you worried about?

  —I don’t know. What do you plan to do with him?

  —I don’t know. I mean, I know generally. I have some general police-work questions. Just some stuff I wanted to talk about. He doesn’t look like he’d know a whole lot.

  —What time is it?

  —About ten. It took me an hour to get there, and then a couple hours to stake out the scene. He was standing outside some party like a valet.

  —I can’t believe you took a cop.

  —You made me believe it was possible, Kev. I have to thank you for that.

  BUILDING 57

  —You don’t look very good. Maybe I used too much on you. It’s just chloroform. You won’t die.

  —What is this? Where am I?

  —You’re safe. And you’re far from anyone hearing you but me. I have four others out here and everyone’s safe. No one will be hurt, even you. We’ve been here for three days. I am a moral man and a principled man and I might be invincible. Do you understand that?

  —What’s your plan, buddy?

  —Say what?

  —Tell me your plan. Is this some kind of shakedown or something?

  —A shakedown?

  —You trying to get back at me for giving you a ticket or busting you for drugs or whatever?

  —You know, I don’t like you much so far. You’ve got an abrasive personality. I watched you half the night, just to see if you looked like a hardass, but you looked more like a dentist. A dentist dressed like a cop.

  —

  —With the others I’ve apologized first and foremost for having to bring them here under these circumstances, but I don’t know how sorry I am about you. I’ve had some bad experiences with your kind.

  —My kind?

  —Cops. But at the same time, I’ve had plenty of good experiences, too. I want you guys to be good. I want to believe you want to do the right thing. But too often you fuck that up.

  —

  —I forgot to tell you that you’re here to talk. That’s why you’re here. I ask some questions and you answer them, okay?

  —Why?

  —Why? Because I have you handcuffed and I say so. You must be familiar with the rules of a deposition, right?

  —You’re calling this a deposition?

  —It’s as close to that as anything else. There are just some general questions I need answered. I don’t know anything about you, but you were wearing the uniform so I figured you’d know some answers. I guess you could say I profiled you.

  —

  —You don’t like that?

  —

  —And the sooner we’re done the sooner I’m gone and you’re free. Okay?

  —Go to hell.

  —You really are abrasive. I didn’t expect that. You have such a friendly face. You remind me of some mailman or TV dad. I picture you putting on a cardigan after work, opening the newspaper, helping your kids with their homework.

  —

  —Unless you’re guarding some private party.

  —

  —Wow, that is the life, huh? A Monterey beat cop during the day, at night guarding private parties for time and a half. How long have you been a cop?

  —

  —You have to answer now.

  —Twenty years.

  —Twenty years. You ever take the detective test?

  —Up yours.

  —Ah. I take it the answer is yes. What are you looking for? Some ship you’re planning to signal? There’s no one out the window. Are you that dumb? You’re inside an abandoned military barracks and you’re gonna signal some ship two miles into the Pacific?

  —We’re at Fort Ord.

  —Good. You’re the first one to guess. Were you a Marine or something? You’re a very stoic guy.

  —

  —Okay. I guess I’ve had a streak of more talkative people, so I was getting spoiled there for a while. I didn’t need to explain the rules. The rules are that you’re here to talk to me and to answer my questions. I have a taser over there. I guess you already saw that. And I have other stuff outside that I could use if you’re really being uncooperative. But I’m not a violent guy. I haven’t harmed anyone. I have four others out here, and everyone is healthy and well fed. And I think I’m almost done finding out what I need to find out. So if you cooperate this could all be over soon enough.

  —

  —Maybe I picked the wrong cop. Listen, I had a night to waste until my destiny tomorrow, and I was just looking for someone from your department. I have nothing against you in particular. I knew there’s no other way any of you guys would sit down to talk to me. You get it? I’ve written letters to the department and never got an answer. I asked to talk to anyone and no one could bother.

  —

  —So anyway. Now that you’re here, here’s the plan. You talk to me, you answer questions, and we’ll be fine. If you don’t, then I tase you. I mace you. I do stuff like that. Stuff you’ve probably done to people all the time. You’ll find it familiar. And the sooner you talk to me and we get finished
, the sooner you can get free. Does all that make sense?

  —Yes.

  —Huh. That was almost sudden. Suddenly you’re talking. Have you done this kind of thing before?

  —No.

  —But is it part of your training or anything? Do you have a simulation for this kind of situation? Being chained to a post and being asked questions? I guess this is sort of a hostage thing.

  —I assume you had a bad run-in with a cop?

  —We’re not talking about me right now. I want you to talk about you. I can’t sleep, and it’s hours till dawn, so we’re going to talk. We’re going to go through a little biographical portrait of you. I want to understand you and your kind. You were born where?

  —Modesto.

  —Modesto! Wow. Okay, Modesto. Two parents?

  —Yes.

  —Dad was a cop?

  —Mom.

  —Mom was a cop! Wow. That is fantastic. And Dad did what?

  —He designed furniture.

  —He designed furniture? He designed furniture? That is the best thing I’ve heard all week. I swear to god. Wow. He designed furniture! Your mom went out with her gun and everything, and your dad made her breakfast and then stayed home drawing little pictures of ottomans?

  —

  —Sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect. Sorry. Your dad drew awesome pictures of ottomans. Not little pictures. Big ones! Manly ones.

  —Where is this going?

  —So you become a cop why? To follow in Mom’s footsteps? You know, I’m thinking things were complicated in your house. Maybe Dad’s feeling emasculated given Mom makes more money. Did he work at home?

  —

  —He did! In a way, he was a homemaker, wasn’t he?

  —

  —Sorry. I shouldn’t take cheap shots. So you become a cop why? Because you want to do good?

  —

  —You don’t really have a cop look. That’s why I took you. You seemed more harmless than the other options. You ever have a mustache, goatee, that kind of thing?

  —

  —No answer? Is that classified information? Cop facial hair choices are classified? Did you just smile? I made you laugh. That is awesome. Now we’re best friends. Okay, let’s back up. Now that we’re besties I need to know everything. I’m assuming public school?

  —

  —Don’t go shy now. I’m worked up. You don’t want me getting that taser. I’m more likely to use it when I’m excited. So: public school? Don’t nod. I need answers. It’s dark and nodding doesn’t work when it’s dark. As you can imagine, I can’t turn lights on or maybe those ships you think you were signaling might actually see us.

  —Yes. Public school.

  —Okay. College?

  —Two years.

  —Where?

  —Chico State.

  —Chico State. Chico State. Okay. I can see that. Then what? You drop out?

  —I ran out of money.

  —Were you planning to become a cop at that point?

  —I don’t know.

  —You were studying what?

  —Theater.

  —Theater! Theater! Oh shit. That is fantastic. Your dad’s a furniture designer, and you’re studying theater. And Mom was what kind of cop, by the way? Like a clerk or actually driving around in a cruiser?

  —Driving around. Patrol. Then she was a sergeant.

  —Wow. Okay. So Frank wants to be what, an actor? You were wanting to be an actor?

  —I don’t know. I did everything—set design, props, directing.

  —Frank, I really like you now. You look like the Family Ties dad and you studied theater at Chico State. I like you. So I’m hoping I don’t have to dislike you later. So then you drop out of college, and then what?

  —I worked.

  —Doing?

  —Telemarketing.

  —Oh shit. That’s terrible. Were you good at it?

  —No.

  —Selling what?

  —Home security systems.

  —Okay. For how long?

  —A year.

  —And then what? Then the police academy?

  —No, then Europe.

  —You went to Europe? Like backpacking, Eurail pass, all that?

  —Yes.

  —Frank, I can’t tell you how much I love that. You are awesome. I have to say, I’m so encouraged that there are cops who studied theater at Chico State and then went backpacking through Europe. You should get the word out about that! You know the perception is that you cops are a bunch of gorillas who never left the state, don’t you? They should put guys like you out there more, do some community events, that kind of thing. All you guys stay in your cars and never talk to anyone. You know what a problem that is for your PR? They should have a Meet Frank the Cop Night, where you talk to people about your crazy adventures in Greece and shit. Isn’t that a great idea?

  —I don’t know.

  —It is! And I’m assuming you went to Greece?

  —I did.

  —Rented a scooter, rode it drunk, picked up English girls?

  —More or less.

  —You know, in another life we would have almost been friends. You seem okay. I’m glad I took you. You married?

  —

  —C’mon, I’m not going to harm your wife. And if I wanted to, I could anyway. I could find out in a second whether or not you’re married. I know your name.

  —Go ahead, call the station and ask.

  —Look at you! You’re clever. You want me to call the station. Then you yell out or something, they trace the call, they get the coordinates from the cell phone company, and we’re found. That’s clever. Well, it’s almost clever. It’s not really all that clever. You couldn’t be all that clever and be working for the Marview police. And where I picked you up, what was that? You’re guarding some private residence or something?

  —I was providing security at an event.

  —You ever shoot anyone?

  —At a private party?

  —No. Funny, though. Have you?

  —No.

  —Did you ever shoot your gun?

  —On duty?

  —Yes on duty.

  —I’ve fired my sidearm three times on duty.

  —Three times. Who were the three targets?

  —One was a man who had robbed a dry cleaner’s.

  —Was he armed?

  —Yes, I believe he was.

  —“Yes I believe he was.” You know, you just set yourself back a hundred years. That is precisely the kind of bullshit answer people expect from cops, and here you’re giving it to me. So did he get away?

  —He was armed, and he did get away. He ran across a four-lane highway and got into a car.

  —You fired at him and missed.

  —I have to assume I missed.

  —Okay, who else?

  —Once at an animal.

  —What kind of animal?

  —A dog.

  —A dog.

  —Yes.

  —So you’re saying that one of the three times you shot your gun was at a dog?

  —Yes.

  —That is fascinating. That really means you’re telling me the truth. Because if you were hiding anything from me you wouldn’t mention that. And you’re also trying to humanize yourself. You’ve read the handbook. Humanize yourself, talk about your allergies, weaknesses, family, frailties, and maybe the kidnapper will spare you. That about right?

  —

  —So did you hit the dog?

  —No I did not.

  —You’re a bad shot or what?

  —I’m a decent shot.

  —But you missed the dry cleaning man and the dog.

  —Both encounters were in the evening and both targets were moving quickly.

  —Are you nearsighted or anything?

  —No.

  —So who was the third target of your gun?

  —He was just a man. Disturbed man.

  —How old?

  —Thirty or s
o, I think.

  —Wait. What? He was thirty? What was his name?

  —I don’t know. It was a bunch of consonants.

  —What do you mean? Where was this?

  —Here. Marview.

  —What? Why were you here?

  —I used to work here. I was transferred after.

  —What was his name?

  —It was a foreign name.

  —Foreign like from where?

  —I think it was Vietnam.

  —What?

  —Vietnamese. I think it was.

  —What was his name?

  —I don’t know. It started with B.

  —The last name started with B?

  —Yes. I know that.

  —And his first name?

  —It was American.

  —Was it Don?

  —It could be.

  —Was it Don Banh?

  —I don’t know. Did you know him?

  —Now you’re lying. Now you think I’ll kill you because you killed my friend. Did you kill Don Banh?

  —No.

  —You said you shot him.

  —We shouldn’t talk about this now.

  —We have to talk about this now. Did you shoot Don Banh?

  —

  —You better talk.

  —I didn’t kill him. My shot didn’t kill him.

  —Fuck. Fuck. I didn’t think I’d actually get one of you guys who was actually there. You’re saying you were actually one of the cops that night?

  —I don’t know.

  —I will kill you if you don’t talk. Do you hear me? I will kill you. I will tase you till you die. I’ll think of other ways. I’ll take a rock and break your head open.

  —I can’t tell you anything if you’re planning to kill me.

  —Your only chance is talking to me. If you don’t, I kill you. I haven’t threatened anyone else this way but you I will kill. I thought I just picked up some random cop but now it’s you, one of you from that night. So we need to start talking.

  —Okay.

  —Fuck. Wait. I need to get away from you for a second.

  BUILDING 53

  —Congressman?

  —

  —Congressman?

  —

  —Sorry. I know it’s the middle of the night. It’s two a.m. I need your help here.

  —Thomas.

  —Would you think less of me if I did something to a cop?

 

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