“That’s what my sources are telling me, Dook. No exaggeration— the man’s done.”
“Well, hell. Good riddance, that’s all I can say. How hard you think it gone’ be to find somebody to fill in for the man? What a Chief o’ Police actually do, huh? I mean, all I ever seen ol’ Green do is walk around yellin’ at people all the damn time, maybe slap his nightstick up against the wall ever’ once in a while if he need’ to make a point.”
Jim rubbed his hand against his wide chin, caressing the thin layer of stubble. “So Hedleyson doesn’t aspire to be anything more than a placeholder, huh? He’ll stick around just long enough to meet the new boss, then get the hell out of Dodge? Man, that sounds like a plan to me. Listen, kids. I been riding these waves for decades, you hear me? I’m not about to start trying to impress anybody at this point in my career, especially not when my boss cares even less about the job than I do.”
Sal Brown raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? So tell me, oh wise one. What exactly do you think the future holds for our dear old CPD?”
Jim leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest with an air of deep contentment. “You’re asking me? Seriously? Bro, I don’t give a shit about nothing no more, you ought to know that! But if Chief Greene and Lieutenant Colonel Hedleyson are both really headed out the door, then it’s just a matter of time before the knives come out.” He snorted up a loogie, then spit it down on the tile floor. “All them worthless, brown-nosing officers we’ve got sitting around the station? You realize how many of those incompetent douchebags would just love to be called ‘Chief of Police’?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you tell us how you really feel about your colleagues, Jim?”
“Goosey, I hope you don’t expect me to show any love for those weasels. Once Greene’s gone there’ll probably be a few months’ gap while the city searches for a new Chief, so the beat cops will have free reign around here without any leadership to fuck things up. Hedleyson’s not going to bother getting himself involved in anything. Yeah, you’ll have to watch out for all the rats looking to pad their resume by jamming up other cops, but we already know who those ambitious pricks are, so it’ll be easy enough to avoid them.” Jim let out a huge, weary sigh, almost as if he was just now starting to feel the heavy weight of a full career in law enforcement. “But I’m telling you— all of you— if it turns out that this new Chief is any kind of go-getter at all, that’ll be my last straw.” He looked slowly around the table. “I swear, the first time some wet-behind-the-ears, college graduate Chief of Police tells me to do a single goddamned thing, that’s when I’ll just say fuck it and pull the retirement pin. And I mean for real this time, no coming back. Don’t believe me? Just watch.”
I was filled with admiration for Jim’s well-planned exit strategy, but before I had the chance to tell him so, the rookies on kitchen duty came sauntering up. The kids were loaded down with our first round of pizzas, a foursome of huge pies set atop giant hardwood cutting boards. The shop talk disappeared in an instant, the five of us gazing in awe as those cheese-covered beauties were laid down before us. My mouth was watering, coming damn close to drooling, as I surveyed those luscious green peppers, fat andouille sausages and endless layers of pepperoni slices, all piled high over a crust which had been bronzed to perfection.
Finally, after what seemed like an appropriate length of silence, it was Sal Brown who piped up first. The man spoke with unusual eloquence, putting words to my emotions in a way that no one had ever managed before.
“Damn” Sal said, reaching up to unclip his necktie and toss it back over his shoulder. “You know what? As long as we’re going through a period of transition here, I’m done wearing this noose, too. But enough about work, fellas— that shit right there is positively beautiful. Let’s eat.”
A steady rain poured down on the roof of the small brick ranch house. Though the tiny living room was crowded beyond capacity, standing room only, with a few teens even forced to listen in from the kitchen, Antoine sat comfortably off to the side in a tall leather recliner. The seat was a status symbol of sorts, a mark of his position as the gang’s leader, and he listened patiently as a lieutenant reported on the day’s work. The other troops milled nervously about, none daring to breach protocol by slumping down on the plastic-covered furniture.
When the shop talk had concluded, Antoine took a slow look around at his team. The entire house smelled of moisture, and he was the only one whose clothes weren’t soaked through. Conscious of the disparity, Antoine chose to begin by acknowledging the group’s hard work. It was late, well past midnight, so he kept his remarks brief.
“Awright y’all, listen up. Not bad work today, not bad at all, ‘specially considering that late start. Who’d have thought it’d take damn near two hours just to get across town?” He noticed a few heads hanging low in shame, and quickly waved off the remark. “Forget it, couldn’t be helped. You guys were a hunnert percent right to drive like my granny, what with so many cops posted up at those closed-off intersections. I ain’t ‘bout to have nobody get popped over something stupid like driving without a license. Naw, man. We’d run a goddamned shuttle service before we let that happen.”
The pressure dropped a level, and the younger members released their held breath. Antoine took advantage of the quiet to continue his lecture, exhorting the value of hard work. “But look where we at right now, would you? I’m not blamin’ nobody, but we ain’t even close to done. The way this thing works is, we gotta submit a list of all our jobs if we wanna get paid for them. Tha’s called an invoice.”
A few heads nodded in understanding, giving Antoine a glimmer of hope for the future of his enterprise. “So far, we got, what? Five burglaries across two neighborhoods? And only eight car break-ins?” He glanced over towards a lieutenant, who confirmed the numbers with a nod. “And which one of you geniuses thought it’d be a good idea to go break open one of them Coke machines?”
The group erupted in laughter. Even though he dared not raise a hand, the twelve-year old culprit standing in the front row gave himself away when his dark face blushed with embarrassment. “Never mind, boy” Antoine said. “We’ll talk about it later. Probably got your pockets full of quarters right now, walking ‘round sounding like a got-damn jingle bell.”
Antoine stood up to conclude his address, his words hanging heavy in the small room. “Now listen, I understand the weather’s a little rough right now, okay? I really do. Hell, it took Jamal’s squad damn near an hour just to cruise through West Oak Forest. And I know you’re tired. I know that, and I sure am too. But right now, I need y’all to think about something, okay? How often is a hurricane like this going to hit us, huh? Maybe once a decade, twice if we’re lucky? That’s why we’ve got to take advantage of the opportunity, ‘cause we only got this one shot at it. And let me tell you somethin’, I’ve already done the math. If we pull this off, all of us could bring in more during a single weekend than we normally pull all month. Ain’t that what it’s all about? Gettin’ paid?”
He looked around at his team. The nodding heads staring back were a clear indication that his message had gotten through. “Most of y’all can knock off for the night. Be sure to get dry, and put the towels straight into the laundry when you’re done. We’ll go at it fresh in the morning. But hey, listen, I still need a couple volunteers. Give me four guys up here, right now.”
The entire front row stepped forward. Antoine waved the first four teens off to one side, then held up a hand to stave off any others. “That’s enough, y’all. That’s all we need, ‘long as one of you can drive. I need you boys to race over to the TJ Maxx real quick. Park around back, then see if you can force open a door. You know what, why don’t you take two cars, that way you can load up as much gear as you can carry. I’m talking rain coats, you’ll need ‘em, plus all the sweats they have in stock.” Antoine nodded towards the hallway, where the younger crew members were already setting up camp for the night. “Can’t expect these boys to
sleep in no wet clothes— not if they’re gonna be putting in the work tomorrow.”
SUNDAY
8.
I’ve never been an early riser, so it came as a shock to find I was one of the first cops awake the next morning. And even though my flashy new AM/FM radio alarm clock was reporting that it was nearly nine o’clock already, I honestly could’ve gone right on sleeping. The aerobics room at Planet Fitness was a cave of darkness, and with the white noise of my colleagues’ gentle snores in the background, the place could’ve just as well been a warm den full of sleeping bears. I felt fully rested and refreshed thanks to a queen-sized foam topper I’d snagged from the Mattress Barn, although the idea of continued hibernation still seemed a lot more appealing than going to work.
Tiptoeing so as not to wake anyone, I picked my way out of the dark gym, heading towards the florescent overhead lighting of the main mall. In the food court, I nodded a silent greeting at the pair of patrol rookies who’d been up all night keeping watch over the Chic-Fil-A stand. The kids’ eyes were bloodshot and red from having to stay awake and listen for radio calls, but in fairness, that was probably the hardest anyone was working on this gig. When they returned the gesture, I held up two fingers to place my order for a couple of those delicious chicken biscuits. As I waited, I stretched my legs with a quick stroll through the atrium. My bare feet made these quiet slapping sounds against the cold linoleum, the smooth, clean floor feeling surprisingly pleasant beneath my toes. I savored the sensation, making a mental note to go barefoot at work more often.
Outside, an endless line of clouds rolled past overhead. They were thick and dark, nearly black, and of course the rain was still coming down. It looked as if I must’ve slept straight through the eye of the hurricane, though— except for some debris strewn about the parking lot, the Citadel Mall seemed to have fared pretty well. Finally, once a full minute had passed without the view changing, I gave my junk one last scratch and ambled back to the food court. After all, there was no sense in starting the day on an empty stomach.
Sal Brown was up and about by then, so I claimed the bench seat across from him. Somebody’d taken the initiative to unpack a brand-new Keurig machine, so I reached over and grabbed the cardboard box of coffee pods. “What’s brewing today?” I asked. “Generic French Vanilla? Ugh! Don’t we have any of that Krispy Kreme house blend?”
Neither one of us was a morning person, so Sal’s response came out as a series of short grunts. “Yeah. It’s just alright. Get you some dark roast. Colombian blend. Shit’s pretty good. Must be hand-picked beans.” He took a long sip, oblivious to the way that steaming brown liquid soaked through his handlebar mustache. “I swiped those K-cups myself, but if there’s nothing you like, you’re welcome to head back into Target and grab something else.”
I shook my head, pondering Sal’s words. He sounded like he knew his coffee, which made it that much more likely that the dude hailed from South America. “Naw, I’m good” I said, snatching a random K-cup. “Besides, it’s way too early for work.” I carefully fit the pod into the machine, then pulled down the handle and watched, fascinated, as the scalding beverage trickled down into a brand-new ceramic mug. “Any word from the real world yet?” I asked, using my fingernail to pick at a stubborn price sticker along the cup’s handle. “I’m no weatherman, mind you, but it’s looking a little lighter out there. Pretty sure the worst must have passed us by.”
Sal yawned, stretching his wide mustache out to its full horizontal limits. “Nothing yet, hero. Although, I’m sure it won’t be long until one of those up-and-comers down at 75 takes it upon themselves to start handing out orders. I’m not in any particular rush, mind you, but I’m certain we’ll have to make a token patrol appearance at some point today. Check on any power outages, call in some downed trees, you know the deal.”
I nodded, mixing in a healthy splash of liquid coffee creamer as I shifted my weight on the hard plastic bench. I wasn’t accustomed to dining in my underpants, at least not in public, and the thin cotton fabric felt drafty against my nether regions. “You think the storm had much of an impact?”
He shrugged. “Hard to tell. Sounded like the winds hit their peak around three AM or so, that’s when I got up. Couldn’t take any more of those fat bastards and their snoring, you know?” Sal nodded towards a conspicuously new big-screen TV, which a couple cops with strong backs must have filched from Best Buy and hauled across the street. “You could tell it was getting pretty fierce, ‘cause all the news channels took pity on their reporters and let them come inside for a while. Commercial break will be over in a minute, we’ll get the latest then.”
I grunted, staring down at the rat’s nest of hastily strung-together coaxial cables. “And still no marching orders from the head shed downtown, huh? That’s surprising.”
“Nah, not really.” Sal took another slug, draining half the cup in a single sip before smacking his lips with satisfaction. “The rookies who stayed up all night, I told them to pipe up over the airwaves every so often, calling in from different parts of West Ashley.” Sal tapped a thick finger to his forehead. “Like I been saying, Goosey: this ain’t my first detail.”
I smiled in admiration, rotating the mug around in my hands and letting the hot ceramic warm my palms. “Not bad, Brown.” I raised the cup in a salute. “Not bad at all. But I’ve got to say, this whole thing still seems like overkill— not that I’m complaining. It’s almost as if we’re on some kind of all-expenses-paid sleepover, and collecting overtime pay on top of it all. But I do have to ask, why in the hell are we out here, anyway?”
Sal sniffed his nose, considering my question for a moment before dismissing it with a shrug. “Looters, I guess. Or people’s fear of them, anyways. But if you ask me, a lot of these spoiled suburbanites could use a good break-in every once in a while. It’d teach them a good lesson. Most of them already have too much stuff to begin with.” He leaned back in his seat, casting his eyes up towards the ceiling. “Aw hell, I don’t know. Maybe that’s just the Irish coffee talking.”
I stayed silent, sipping at my coffee while Sal worked through his thoughts. Somehow, knowing that his hand-blended creamer was alcoholic made the drink taste even better. I almost couldn’t believe that only moments before, I’d mistaken the mixer for plain old Coffeemate.
“Goosey” he finally said, “you weren’t one of the cops who got shipped down to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina hit, were you? Now that assignment was one to remember.”
“Hell no!” I exclaimed. “I don’t even like working in my hometown, you think I’m about to start jumping calls in some whole other state? No way, man. I ducked that trip. Let those Louisiana cops do their damn jobs, I’ll hold things down here in the Palmetto State. There’s only one reason I’d ever go all the way to New Orleans, and that’s Mardi Gras.”
“Fair enough, fair enough. Just keep in mind, those trips are great moneymakers. When Katrina touched down, my overtime clock started ticking the minute I got on that coach bus. And as for accomodations? Man, it was next level, not like this shitshow we’re on here. I holed up inside one of those five-star casinos for the entire week. The work was actually pretty interesting, too— at least the way I heard it. Personally, I didn’t see nothing on the streets— too busy keeping watch over the cigar bars. Supposedly they had the National Guard out there in the rain, rounding up all the Negroes after a couple businesses got ransacked. All those prison camps caused a lot of outrage, too. Let me tell you something, if it’d been anyone other than blacks and browns getting hemmed up, there might have been some real repercussions.” He paused once more, draining the coffee cup and setting it back down on the table. “Now I’m not saying that kind of craziness can’t happen here, because both you and I know what them Ardmore jigs are capable of. But boy, even Hurricane Hugo wasn’t nearly as crazy as that mess down in New Orleans.”
“Man, Sal. I still can’t believe you’ve been on the job since ’89. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you
actually look pretty good for your age.”
“Damn right I do. Naw, I’ve seen a few things in my time at this place, kid. You remember Lieutenant Wong, don’t you? Me and him was partnered up for a week straight during Hugo.”
“Wrong Way Wong! Christ, I haven’t thought about him in years. What was it like, working with that mixed-up loser?”
Sal puckered his lips into a scornful sneer. “Honestly? Dude slept through the whole storm. We caught a handful of radio calls that I didn’t bother responding to, but they were all for petty theft, nothing more than we got going on right now. The two of us just posted up in front of the BP station at Highway 17 and Wappoo Road, so at least we were able to score a few dozen free ICEEs.”
I knew that gas station well, since it was always good for a police discount on stale hot dogs. “Huh. I’m curious, how many people you think actually followed the evacuation order this time around? I’m not too keen on the idea of having to go door-to-door to find all the dead bodies.”
He looked me straight in the eye. “What, man, seriously? Haven’t you even looked at the news this week? Man, let me tell you something about how things work on this side of the river. If the Krispy Kreme’s gone and shut down, that means West Ashley’s pretty much deserted.”
It was a simple calculus, yet an entirely plausible one. I shifted my weight in the seat, my bare legs enjoying the fresh air. “Well that’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, if nobody besides us cops was stupid enough to stick around, that must mean we’ll have less work to do. Right?”
Sal tapped the side of his broad nose. “Exactly. Anybody who tried to hold on and ride this storm out, they’re just being stubborn. Or stupid.” He sneered. “Probably just don’t want to go without any of their precious stuff for a few days, but let me tell you something, man.” He waved a thick, hairy arm towards our newly-acquired household appliances and electronics. “When it comes right down to it, all that shit can be replaced. Pretty damned easily, too.”
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