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Let’s face it, she didn’t even try and I loved her all the more for it, because I needed it as much as she did…
Rookie
A POLICE SHORT STORY
1
Joey
Screaming, crying, urine, and blood seemed to be par for the course working the Saturday night shift as I left the locker room adjusting my duty belt. Jake Blitken and his K-9 Amadeus hurried past on their way to a call. Amadeus, an all-black eight-year-old German Shepherd, strained against his leash, looking excited to be working. I felt less enthusiastic and filled with exhaustion from the past week. It was like going to the zoo during a public school trip with hoards of elementary kids. This was my forth night shift in a row because Hudson booked out sick, and the lieutenant on duty, who had a hard on for rookies, ordered me in to work his shift as the new guy on the totem pole. It didn’t matter that I was first in my class, or built like a tank.
“Move it along.” My partner, Mike Gianvittiorio, nudged the perp down the hall, rolling his eyes at me.
“You mind your manners, young man, hauling an elderly lady about roughly. I want to talk to your supervisor.” Assuming that Mrs. Jordan was back for shoplifting, Mike had her cuffed in the front, guiding her to the room we used for questioning. I hoped she wasn’t going to smack him with her purse. Granny Jordan packed a heavy bag with rolled quarters despite her stature.
“I’ll help you out with that in a minute, Mike.” I waved to him.
He nodded at me and muttered something about the bullshit of shift changes as he flipped a bird in air for my eyes only.
“Hey, Hernandez, you took the report for that flasher they reported in the park?” Aiden Genovesi and Wyatt Harrison brushed past in a hurry, obviously following up on a case.
“It’s in review with the lieutenant now.” That guy, the bane of my time here, was notorious for making reports bleed with his red pen. I was certain he lived merely to torture us all before his long awaited retirement.
The odds seemed stacked against me that I would ever be home long enough between shifts to unpack my new place. I moved after the academy to a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from my neighborhood the second I had that crisp paycheck in my hand. My mami acted depressed, insisting I stayed at home until I met a nice girl to marry. What she really meant was that Diego’s daughter, Yunalisa, would make a great bride. Yeah, well, my old bedroom was covered in posters of my beloved Lita’s home in the Dominican Republic and that wasn’t going to get me laid anytime soon. I needed my own space, some fresh paint, and a new perspective.
“Hey. Hernandez, are you going to pick up that takeout from The Gemini tonight or what?” tonight’s tour commander bellowed clear across the command center. Lieutenant Francis Lawrence was determined to make my career resemble something from A Nightmare on Elm Street because it tickled his dick, especially since his wife left him.
The lieutenant flipped through paperwork ignoring me as usual, attacking a report with gusto and a bleeding pen. A guy cuffed to the bench was slumped over drunk, polluting the hallway. The holding cell was probably full and he was the least threatening of the bunch. Sucking in a breath, I passed by the drunk propped up against the wall snoring loudly and stinking worse than my uncle on a bender of cerveza.
“Sure thing,” I said. Now was as good as any time to put in my request off for next month. My brother’s best friend was getting married and somehow I got talked into being the designated driver for the bachelor party.
“Ah, Lieutenant?”
“Hernandez?” He had yet to glance up from his report, responding short.
“I wanted to request Saturday night off, four weeks from now.” The only indication Lieutenant Dick had heard me was the slight shift of his right bushy eyebrow. “I’ve been covering for Hudson.” I doubted he needed the reminder. That was for my benefit.
He smacked his tongue over his teeth, letting his eyes roll up to meet mine. “Don’t forget my gravy fries.”
“And about Saturday?” I needed to make sure so he didn’t try jerking me around later. The department would have to start paying me overtime at this rate.
“Make sure you get my change. I don’t think the waitress in there knows how to count.” He tossed me two twenties and continued to ignore me.
I folded the bills and tucked them into my pocket, leaving with no more of an answer about next month than when I had asked.
I didn’t mind heading to the diner around the corner because that meant I got to see Tempest. Sweet Tempest Woods with her bright red hair, singsongy voice, and floral perfume masked by coffee and sweet cream. She reminded me of a slender calendar pinup girl. You know the kind; the one dad would hang up in the garage out of Mami’s view. She was a classic–a dead ringer for Rita Hayworth–only prettier. Her image fueled my fantasies and I found myself making any excuse I could to visit the diner during work hours. She made time pass conversing with me and never failed to refill my coffee cup while giving me extra-large slices of pie. My duty belt was snugger visiting her the past few months and I adjusted it making my way to leave, pausing when the lieutenant grunted at me.
“Take it as a PTO day.” I must have looked shell-shocked because he yelled next, “Go on...get moving before I make you a TS for the res
t of your sad piddling career, rookie.” His nasal voice sounded annoyed, waving his hand holding a file, shooing me out of his way.
Yeah, I wasn’t looking to spend my days sitting pretty behind a desk answering phones as the current TS. Poor Jimmy was our telephone switchboard operator after he crashed one of the patrol cars doing a traffic stop. I would be grateful for the night off and leave it at that.
Zipping up my jacket and adjusting my gun holster, I braved the chilly October wind, walking around the block. Soon enough it would be Thanksgiving and snowing. The doorjamb jingled as I slipped inside, the warm forced-air of the diner making me hold my hat in hand. Scanning the old diner car, between cracked black and white tiles edged in mint green, I found Tempest behind the counter filling coffee for a few regulars. She looked up, her blue eyes meeting mine, and I swore she straightened her pale pink uniform just a little before giving me a shy smile. Watching her was an unexpected joy and the desire to get to know her outside of our little microcosm increased with each shift.
Zipping around like a bee, she finished up her rounds, and I sat at the counter, waiting in my usual spot. Breathless, hands shaking as she held the coffee pot. I nodded, letting her know I had time for a cup.
“Officer Hernandez.” Her voice jumped an octave and her bright red glossy lips grinned back. Kissable lips I dreamed of tasting.
