The door opened and closed behind him. He snapped out of it and turned to face the approaching Marcado.
"How is she, Father?"
"She's sleeping. Have a seat."
They sat down on the old-fashioned couch.
"No more episodes?"
"No. She's putting a lot of effort in with the kids. They love her. She reads to them five times a day."
"That's great."
Marcado eyed Jerry up and down. The bags under Jerry's eyes concerned him. He took some rosary beads from his pocket and lowered himself to his knees.
"Join me, Jerry."
Marcado prayed, holding the beads. Jerry eventually found his knees and closed his eyes.
"Confess to me, Jerry. Get the weight off those shoulders."
Jerry was slow to get over his reluctance.
"I...I commandeered a civilian's car so I could go and gamble."
"Yes."
"I put a rookie in a position that he wasn't able to handle, because I couldn't hack the extra work. Didn't want it. I ruined his career before it even started."
"The learning curve of life is not set in stone."
"Well, I'm old enough to know better. And for as long as I can remember, my life has been fueled by alcohol, gambling and prostitutes. Normality doesn't exist for me."
"But this new lady friend? She seemed to show interest. And so did you. You should give that relationship your all. It will improve the other areas of your life."
"I've already screwed that one up, Father. My self- destructive nature knows no boundaries. I'm telling you, the only good thing I have in life is a donkey of a horse, who has more chance of winning a race than I do of living a--"
Jerry's ringtone interrupted the confession. Both pairs of eyes sprang open.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say here, Father?"
"But you have Ellie."
"Do I?"
Marcado offered a sympathetic glance.
The area surrounding the gas station was already cordoned off. Half a dozen police cars, SWAT vans and arriving media trucks added to the sense of urgency. A police helicopter's searchlight illuminated the area.
Marcado blasted his horn as he drove away. Jerry waved, then forced himself to approach Helms and the enthusiastic Darryl.
"Four suspects, three customers, and one student employee," offered the latter.
"What's he studying?" Jerry asked.
"Training to be a doctor."
"Thorough."
"I want this one."
Jerry dismissed the notion with a glance. He took a look around, then turned to Helms.
"Get that helicopter out of here. There's enough noise in the robbers' minds as it is."
Helms turned to one of his minions and signaled him to have the helicopter clear out.
Darryl was far too keen. He got in Jerry's face again.
"I need this one. Please. I can do this."
Jerry saw the need in Darryl's eyes. He sighed and glanced up at the helicopter as it left. He was right; the situation immediately felt less pressured.
Jerry surveyed the tops of the adjacent buildings, saw the SWAT snipers getting into position. He scanned the police lines; all were back far enough, and the cops were doing a fine job keeping media and the public at an appropriate distance.
"Okay, hotshot," he said. "She's all yours."
Helms raised a finger to make a point. Jerry stopped him.
"He has to do this, Cap."
Jerry took a step back as Darryl, Helms and the SWAT team leader studied a map.
Jerry stepped farther back, somewhat relieved to be passing on the burden. He noticed a bar across the street, glanced at Darryl, then back to the bar.
The bar won.
Jerry entered to see the customers and staff all crowded around the windows, watching events unfold across the street.
"You'll get a better view from outside."
A hipster customer was aghast at the suggestion.
"We might get shot!"
Jerry nodded.
"That is true."
He walked to the bar and took his place on a stool. Seconds passed.
"Can I get a drink here?"
The bartender left the window, stared down Jerry as he took his position behind the bar.
"Jack, straight," Jerry specified.
The bartender went to get the drink as Jerry massaged his head. He exhaled. His eyes caught the muted television showing the live broadcast from outside. Jerry smirked before shaking his head in bewilderment.
"Turn the TV off! The goddamn thing is going down twenty yards away!"
The bartender fired him a stare, but switched off the TV. He set down Jerry's whiskey and moved back towards the window.
"If you're gonna be longer than five minutes, leave the bottle."
Jerry waved his badge to give the bartender a little assurance.
"I don't expect nothing for free."
The bartender bit his tongue, moved back to the bar, lifted the bottle of Jack, and slammed it onto the counter.
"I better not have missed anything," he said, then went back to the window and retook his original position so he could enjoy the show outside.
Jerry had a stare-off with Jack, his eyes focused on a particular part of the label for no particular reason.
"He's going in!"
The shout broke his concentration.
He eventually sank Jack. Poured another. He brought the glass up to eye-level and massaged it with his free hand. He studied the whiskey long and hard; not even the screams, bullets or windows being smashed outside could break his concentration.
Jerry finished the drink and had another one for the road. He set the glass on the bar, left a few bills, and walked to the door.
The gas station was a scene of complete pandemonium. Emergency services personnel ran about. Police officers held Darryl and the SWAT team leader apart, as they were both desperate to beat the crap out of each other.
"What the fuck do you know, rookie?" shouted the SWAT leader.
"He wasn't gonna shoot, you dick!" Darryl shot back. "I told you to wait for the signal!"
The SWAT team leader flipped Darryl the bird.
"Here's a signal!"
From out of nowhere, Jerry's right-hand haymaker grounded the SWAT team leader.
Helms shook his head.
"Nice, Craig. Nice. Maybe third time lucky with the rookie, huh?"
Jerry ushered Darryl away from the scene, throwing a protective arm around his crestfallen protege's shoulders.
"I had him. I had him."
"Tell me about it on the way home."
The two of them walked towards Darryl's car.
On finding his feet, the SWAT team leader yelled after them.
"You caused this situation, Jerry! You passed the buck, not me!"
Jerry stopped, turned back to face him.
"Stay off the steroids, you baboon. They've finally fried that fragile mind of yours."
In the car, Darryl, now calm, was the listening student.
"And it's a matter of respect," Jerry explained. "What have you done? You know, why are you in charge?"
Darryl shook his head.
"He should have waited for the signal."
"Let the powers that be decide that. There's no point investing any more emotion into it. It's done. Finished. And we move on to the next situation."
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"The emotional detachment."
"Age. It comes with age, Darryl."
Silence. Jerry massaged his hand.
"Anything broken?" Darryl inquired.
"I just need an ice pack."
"You want me to stop and get one?"
"No."
"Okay."
Jerry yawned.
"So, how's married life treating you?"
Right on cue, Darryl'
s cell rang. Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Out Of My Head" was the ringtone.
"It's Ming."
"No shit. Don't forget to say hi."
Darryl answered.
"Hi. No, I'm on my way home."
Jerry slapped Darryl's arm as a reminder.
"Jerry says hi - Ming says hi back - No, shitty day. Can you run the bath and have a hot chocolate ready? Yeah, with marshmallows."
Jerry's eyes couldn't hide his amusement at that last request.
"Okay, see you soon. I do. You know I do. I love you."
Darryl hung up and threw the phone on the dash.
"How touching. I think I've got a tear in my eye."
"Don't."
"What? I think it's sweet. You gonna tell me if I've won that bet with Helms?"
"What my husband and I do at home is our concern."
"I am moved, though. Young people in love. Makes me jealous, kid, but not for long. Because now I'm gonna sleep like a horse. And to be completely honest, I don't really give a shit."
Darryl could only shake his head at Jerry, who stared at the city through his window.
"Sometimes I wish you weren't so old," offered Darryl.
"And why's that?"
"Because this isn't a co-worker relationship; it's a patronizing father-and-son relationship. You'll never treat me like an equal, a colleague."
"I have more respect for you than you realize, Darryl."
"Really?"
"No, I was only joking. And keep the goddamn car in the middle of the lane."
Darryl bit his tongue, shook his head. But he did bring the car into the center of the lane.
"That's better," Jerry said. "And first thing tomorrow you go and talk to that overinflated SWAT baboon and sort everything out."
Jerry slammed the door to Darryl's car and approached his house. His body was running on fumes. As he entered, another car pulled up out front, but he didn't notice.
Inside, he leaned against the front door. Inhaled. Exhaled. He needed more oxygen. A lengthy inhale. When he had enough strength to move, he heard a light, repeated knock on the door. His eyes closed with equal parts frustration and disappointment.
As he opened the door, his energy rose tenfold when he saw Lindsay standing in front of him. But it was short-lived: Jerry noticed the fresh bruises on her face.
"I'm gonna kill the bastard."
"I left him. For good this time."
"Come on in."
Lindsay entered. Jerry closed the door.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"Not yet. Am I intruding?"
"Believe me when I say you can stay as long as you like. I was thinking about calling you."
Their smiles met.
"I have to apologize for the other night," he continued. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."
"It's okay. I need to talk to you."
Jerry ushered Lindsay to the sofa. He was all ears.
"It's awkward," she said.
"Lindsay, you can trust me. Trust me with anything."
His reassuring expression gave her the confidence to speak.
"I need to know how to kill him and get away with it."
Jerry should have been stunned. Shocked. He carefully weighed his response.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I can't be free until he's gone."
"You're not exactly asking for a tip on the Kentucky Derby, Lindsay."
Agitated, she stood up.
"I shouldn't have come here."
"Sit down. We can talk about it."
"Or we can talk about it upstairs."
Jerry smiled, drew resources from the reserve tank to stand up.
He led Lindsay up the stairs and into his bedroom, where she took a seat on the bed. Jerry lowered himself to her.
"Do you really understand the consequences of what you want to do? Your kids will never have a father again."
"They don't need him for a father. They need someone like you."
"If this is done..."
She covered Jerry's mouth with her hand and then started to undress. Jerry was entranced...an old fool.
"Why don't we just worry about our own happiness?" she asked. "Forget about everyone else."
They kissed. Then got heavily into it.
The next morning, Jerry stood on the sidewalk outside his house, fully recharged, a determined expression cemented on his face. He took his cell out, walked to the taxi as it pulled up, and got in. He listened as Ellie's answering machine message finished and beeped.
"I'm on my way to the meeting," he said. "You're supposed to have been here by now. Make your own arrangements; I can't miss him. I hope you can make it. Please, sweetheart, do the right thing."
In the playground, Brian waited at the bottom of the slide as a six-year-old boy descended. It was Logan, Ellie's son.
Brian's two friends and mother were with him, all dressed neatly, in that manner that only those born into wealth can pull off.
Logan screamed with delight as he ran back to the slide's ladder and climbed it. Waiting for his dad's approval, he readied himself as Brian lovingly held out his arms. Another scream of delight as Logan descended. Brian scooped him up and gave him a suffocating hug, kissed him on the head.
"Again, Daddy! Again!"
Brian set Logan down. He ran to the ladder's base and climbed it.
A gate closed behind the group, drawing their attention. Jerry stood there. Logan was ecstatic.
"Grandpa! Grandpa!"
He slid down, ignored Brian and ran to Jerry, who lifted him up with all the love in the world.
"How's my big boy? Playing on the slide, huh? Having fun?"
Logan nodded enthusiastically. Jerry kissed him, ruffled his hair and set him down.
"Go play on the slide. Then I'll buy you an ice cream."
Logan smiled.
"Okay, grandpa, but I want lots of ice cream!"
"You got it!"
Logan ran back to the slide.
Jerry stared down Brian as he walked towards his mother, pure disdain in his eyes as he had to face the witch that gave birth to the rapist.
"You look well," he said. "That is, as well as a cunt can."
She shook her head at Jerry's profanity.
"You're extremely fortunate I agreed to this, Mr. Craig. And that Brian isn't pressing assault charges."
"Is this why you brought the two goons?"
"You can't predict an alcoholic's behavior. They just can't be trusted."
"That right?"
"Just ask your wife."
"Ex-wife. And I'd rather be an alcoholic than a rapist."
"Statutory rape, Mr. Craig. I believe the court made it very clear that Ellie was sexually active at the time."
They all watched as the happy Logan descended the slide and ran back to the ladder.
"Why are you doing this?" Jerry asked.
"Because we love our son. He has rehabilitated himself and he deserves to have Logan in his life."
"He deserves it?"
"Brian is no criminal. He has a great job, fabulous future, and is ready to accept fatherhood."
"Why Europe?"
"It's where Brian lives. And Brian's father and I have always wanted to sample the delights of London. Such a cosmopolitan city."
"At least your husband has the decency not to be here. He knows the truth. Acting the fucking martyr; you make me sick."
How is your daughter, Mr. Craig? I see she couldn't get herself off the drugs long enough to say goodbye to her son."
"Fuck you."
One of Brian's friends stepped forward.
"Hey..."
"Hey, what? You need 'hay' to feed farm animals? I'll break your fuckin' nose and leave it as flat as a pig's, cocksucker."
"Lovely, Mr. Craig. And you were wondering why the judge granted us custody. Do you ever feel responsible for your da
ughter's circumstances?"
For once, Jerry didn't know what to say.
Brian's mother glanced at her watch.
"You have five minutes, Mr. Craig."
"Yeah. Take the three pieces of shit with you. I can have you fined for leaving trash here in a public park!"
Brian's mother passed a sheet of paper over to Jerry.
"You can phone on his birthday and Christmas. Goodbye, Mr. Craig. Try and help Ellie. She's still young enough to sort out her problems. You shouldn't be a weight around her ankles."
Brian's friends and mother moved towards the gate.
"Brian, let's go," she ordered.
Brian kissed Logan and followed the others.
Jerry instantly reverted to the role of loving grandfather.
"Come here, tiger!"
Logan ran straight over and jumped into Jerry's arms for an embrace.
"Still practicing your football?"
Logan nodded as Jerry ruffled the boy's hair again. They walked to a bench and took a seat. A few seconds of silence was broken.
"I'm going to live in Europe, Grandpa. Are you coming, too?"
"I can't, Logan. I have to stay here and protect the city."
"Then when will I see you?"
Jerry wiped away a tear and took off his watch.
"I want you to have grandpa's watch. It's very expensive, so keep it safe."
He put the timepiece on Logan's wrist - way too big. Jerry pushed it the whole way to Logan's upper arm so it would fasten snugly.
"I don't understand, Grandpa. I want you to come to Europe, too."
A tear ran down Jerry's cheek.
"I can't, kid. If I could, I would. You know that."
"If you're not going, I'm not going!"
Jerry welled up. He hugged Logan tightly so the boy couldn't see his tears.
"I love you so much, Logan."
"I love you too, Grandpa."
Jerry kissed Logan and hugged him tighter. The boy spied someone over Jerry's shoulder.
"Who's that?"
Jerry turned around. He saw Ellie approach them, a wrapped present in her hand. Jerry looked Logan's in the eyes.
"That's your mommy. Want to say hello?"
"My real mommy?"
"Yes, Logan, your real mommy."
Hesitant at first, Logan nodded. Jerry stood, lifting Logan in the process, and walked towards Ellie.
Bridge Over Troubled Water Page 6