Chapter 47: Job Hunting

Nothing job-related came to my attention by Friday afternoon. I speculated what the perfect job ad would look like - “Wanted! Matucket Firearms Corporation has an immediate opening for product design and testing in their Machine Gun Division! Iraqi war veterans with PTSD desired! Call now, operators are standing by!” I remembered that the AK-47 was invented by a busted-up Russian sergeant during World War II. Too bad there really wasn’t a Matucket Firearms Corporation, either with or without a Machine Gun Division.

The PTSD was still simmering at a low level, and from what Grandpa told me, might do so the rest of my life. The question wasn’t whether you would get PTSD, just how bad and in what form. Mine seemed to be at a relatively low level and was mostly my survivor’s guilt and depression over losing my guys. I wasn’t planning to off myself, but at times, especially when I was by myself, I got to thinking some very dark thoughts. That was when I had The Nightmare, especially if Kelly wasn’t around. It was odd, though. A lot of the guys in the Army had wanted me to stay, since I was such a marvelous soldier or some such shit, and they swore that by the end of another hitch I’d at least be a platoon sergeant. That would just mean even more guys to worry about and get killed off by my fucking up. I would go fucking nuts then!

I really started looking into what I could do with my educational benefits. For one thing, my parents warned me away from any of the ITT-Tech-School sort of places. They were for profit and their guarantees of getting you a job were worthless. If I was going to go to college, go to a real college, like M-Triple-C or Matucket State. My benefits did allow for most of my tuition and books to be paid for, and there was a stipend that would cover a fair bit of living expenses, especially if I could room in the apartment free. On the other hand, that might be pushing my luck to try and stay there for a few years. It would be best if I could move out and become independent, and for that I needed at least a part-time job.

The one job that kept coming to mind was the oddest one of all. Did Captain Crowley mean it when he asked if I had thought about being a cop? Or was he just spouting some shit to keep me from suing the MPD? The only way to find out was to ask. Thursday morning, I called the MPD and asked to speak to him.

“Captain Crowley, this is Graham Reaper.”

“Yes, Sergeant Reaper, it’s good to talk to you again. How can I help you?”

“Well, it’s just plain Graham these days. I have hung up the uniform. Listen, I’ll make this quick. I just wanted to know if you were serious last week about becoming a police officer,” I replied.

I heard him chuckle. “Yes, I was serious. I guess you’ve been thinking about it?”

“Some, I guess. I wasn’t sure if it was just a way to get me out of your office or if you meant it.”

“Fair enough,” he answered. “Would you like to sit down and talk about it?”

“Could I?” I asked.

“I’m busy today, but if you wanted to come by mid-morning tomorrow, I’ll have some time available.”

“Ten?”

“Make it ten-thirty,” he replied. Captain Crowley promised to have my name on the visitor’s list and told me to park in one of the visitor’s spots in the parking lot. I told him I would be there.

I didn’t tell my grandparents about it that night. I wasn’t sure whether they would be in favor of the idea or not. In any case, the next morning I put on some clean khakis and a nice sport shirt and drove down to the police station. It had been a week since my welcome home. Maybe that fat cop wouldn’t be around. That might be one of the things that I would need to consider. Would he or his buddies be a problem?

I parked and entered the lobby of the Matucket Public Safety building, that being the official name for the police station. However, the lobby was tiny, not being much more than a box with a steel door leading into the building and a policeman behind a glassed-in desk behind a wall. It had the look of ballistic glass, too. He asked my business and checked me off a list, and then picked up a phone. A minute later, I heard a buzzer and a click on the door, and it opened to reveal a uniformed police officer. “Mister Reaper?” He looked to be in his mid-twenties, just a few years older than me.

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain Crowley asked me to bring you to his office. Welcome to the Matucket Police Department. I think you’ll like it here.”

I smiled at that. Crowley must be putting on the full court press. “Thank you, but that might be a little premature.”

We walked through some office areas and down the hall to Crowley’s office. Along the way the police officer, who told me his name was Tim Hungerford, gave me a running description of where we were, a travel guide of sorts. Eventually, I found Captain Crowley standing at his doorway and smiling. “Thank you, Tim.”

“No problem, Captain.” Hungerford turned to me and shook my hand. “I look forward to you joining us, Sergeant.”

I smiled at that. “We’ll see.” After he left, I turned to Captain Crowley and shook his hand. “He seems to think I’m becoming a police officer.”

Crowley gave me a smile. “I might have mentioned the possibility to him. Come on in, Grim. Let’s talk about that.” I followed him inside and we sat down in the battered armchairs again. He started with, “So, how’s the job hunting going? Got any plans yet?”

“Nothing specific. I’ve moved into an apartment at my grandfather’s house. The rent is low, but I have to mow the lawn and act as slave labor for my grandmother.” Crowley laughed at that. “I’ve just started looking, but nothing is jumping out at me. I figure I’ll start up at M-Triple-C in the spring, get at least some college under my belt. I had a start on it at Drum, so I should be able to get an associate’s in a year or so.”

“Well, that’s good. There are certainly more jobs available with a two-year degree than just a high school degree. If you do well, you can take those credits over to Matucket State and get a four-year degree. Depending on how fast you want to move, you could possibly finish that off in another year.”

I nodded. That had been something Kelly and I had discussed. It was like Sergeant Levi had told me two years ago. I wasn’t some little asshole anymore. I could get through an overload on courses and finish a lot faster than some punk kid. “That’s one of the things I’ve been thinking about. If I do that, though, I won’t be able to work, at least not full time. If I get a job, I’ll still go to school but I’ll do it nights.”

“Either way, you should get a degree. It’s not a requirement to become a police officer, but it helps, and if you ever want to move up the ladder, it’s pretty much mandatory,” he said.

I crossed my arms. “Okay, so how’s that work, anyway? I’ll be honest. I never even thought about being a police officer before you mentioned it. What’s involved?”

“Okay, let’s talk about that. Matucket’s not much different than any other town or city in Georgia. You need to meet the requirements of the Georgia Peace Officer Standards and Training Council. You have to be a U.S. citizen, at least eighteen years old, and have either a high school degree or a GED. You got into the Army, so we know you already did all three of those.”

I nodded in understanding. I had all three of those.

Crowley continued, “You’ve got to have a clean record. No convictions. Period. You have to take a medical test, and that includes a drug test. You’ll be fingerprinted and they will run a background check on you. You need to be squeaky clean. Can you pass all that, Grim? Are you squeaky clean?”

“I’m good, Captain. The Army tested us randomly all the time. As for a clean record, it was your guy who almost put an end to that, not me.”

He grimaced at that. “We’ll talk about that later. Okay, next, you need to take an entrance exam, sort of an SAT for cops. Did you take that in high school?”

I nodded and told him my grades. They weren’t stellar, but Captain Crowley seemed to think they were adequate.

“You also have to attend a police academy. Now, there are several in Georgia, spread out around the state. It’s about a three-month course and it costs several thousand bucks. That can be handled a couple of ways. First, some students pay for it on their own, and then try to get onto a police force afterwards. You could pay for it with your GI benefits, for example. In other cases, the police force will pay for it, and that’s a possibility for you, too.”

“And then you become a police officer?”

“Yes and no. Just doing that doesn’t guarantee you a job. The police force needs to have an opening available. Matucket has an authorized strength of 196 officers of all ranks. If all 196 slots are filled up, you can’t get hired until somebody leaves. There is usually more than one person applying, also. When that happens, you get graded on a point system. You get points based on your grades, your rank at the police academy, and so on. You also get points based on your military service and any college credit you have. Even part of a degree will count for some points. I have to say that you will have a plus because of your time in the Army and at college. If you do at all well at the academy or on the entrance exam, you’ll be ahead of the game.”

“Huh. Never thought about that. There’s more than one police academy?”

“Yes, and it is nothing at all like the movie,” he answered, grinning. “It’s about eleven or twelve weeks and has both book and practical studies, as well as after-hours work in the library. There’s about half a dozen spread out around the state, but none are close enough to commute to. I’ll have to find a map.”

“I’m going to have to give this some thought, Captain.”

“Understood. Let me give you my sales pitch, though. It’s a good job. It’s not for everybody, but if you have any inclination towards helping people, that’s what we do. The pay isn’t all that great and the hours can suck, but we help people. You were in the Army, and you had to volunteer for that. That means you care. We care, too.”

“Huh.”

“Here’s a final thought. Come to work here first. You can’t become a police officer until you take all the tests and go to the academy, but you can come to work here in the station as an administrative assistant. See what it’s like, get a feel for it. You last past the first few days, you’ll be hooked. In addition, if you’re an employee of the Matucket Police Department, the department will pay for your ongoing education. We’ll pay the bill at the academy.”

“I’m going to need to think about this, Captain. Can I call you next week?” I asked.

“Sure thing.”

“Captain, I have to tell you ... my family told me about a lot of problems with the Matucket Police Department. Shooting unarmed kids and stealing from people. I won’t be part of that. I’ll go to work at McDonald’s before I do that.” I felt embarrassed at saying this, but I needed to say it.

He grimaced but nodded. “I won’t say we haven’t had problems, but we are cleaning them up. The Justice Department cleaned out some of the bad apples but there is still more work to do. You’ve seen that yourself. That police officer who thumped you is gone now; he quit rather than get fired. It’s why I’m the Captain in charge of Patrol, and not a Lieutenant in Investigations. This is not the old MPD, Grim. You can be part of the new MPD.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Call me next week, Grim, either way.”

Captain Crowley walked me out, and I left to go back to the apartment and pack. I had to think about what Captain Crowley had said. I had failed as a soldier. Would becoming a police officer give me a chance to make up for that failure? Or would I be a failure as a police officer as well?

It was a bit over two hours from Matucket to Athens, most of it highway miles. It was I-20 and I-85 until I got to Georgia-316, and then it was 316 and 29 to Athens. Athens is a lot bigger than Matucket, but Kelly had given me decent enough directions and I found her place easily enough. She was in a second-story walkup over a deli just off a strip mall. That was when I got lost. I couldn’t find where the door was and where to park. I pulled out my new cell phone and called her, and she directed me to a small parking lot behind the place and said she would be waiting at the door.

Kelly was standing in a doorway at the end of the building when I pulled around. I waved to her and pulled into an empty parking spot near her Miata. I parked and grabbed a duffle bag and locked up the Subaru. For a moment I thought about leaving the keys in it with the doors unlocked, which might be a good start to getting a newer car. No, that might not be a good idea; the thieves might laugh at me. I came across to her and found her still in the doorway. “Come on in!” she told me. “If I come out the door locks behind me.”

“Ah, I was wondering why you were stuck there,” I answered. I came inside and she let the door close. “You look good, babe.”

“I have missed you so much!” she told me. “Come on, let me show you around.” She took my hand and tugged me up the stairs. I had to let her hand slip to follow, but that just gave me a nice chance to study her perfect rear end swiveling in the jeans she was wearing. When we got upstairs, she led me into a small apartment. “Home sweet home!” she announced.

I looked around. It was a bit bigger than some of the barracks rooms back at Drum, but probably a whole lot homier. We were standing in a large common living room/dining room/kitchen area, and there were a couple of small bedrooms off to the side, with a small bathroom between them. “Very nice. Definitely larger than the apartment over the garage,” I commented.

“That’s a bit nicer, though. I like the rustic feel and it has a small laundry. We don’t.”

“No laundry?”

Kelly shook her head. “On the other hand, the laundromat is down in the strip mall next door. It’s not like I need to take my laundry home for Mom to do.”

“And it’s probably really easy to go food shopping,” I added, pointing to the floor.

“Delsinger’s makes great subs!” She went to the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator. “Beer?”

“Please.” I dropped my bag on the floor and went over to the bar separating the kitchenette and the dining area. Kelly handed me a cold Heineken. She had one of her own. “Nice beer!” I commented.

“I don’t drink a lot of beer, but I know you do, so I made sure to pick up a couple of nice sixes.”

“Thank you. Where’s your roommate?”

“Megs moved in with her girlfriend for the weekend. We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

I lifted an eyebrow at that. “Her girlfriend?”

Kelly smiled and nodded. “Yep. Is that a problem?”

I shrugged and smiled back. “Have you two ever...”

“GRIM!”

“Hey, I’m just asking. I’m an open-minded and modern kind of guy, you know.”

“I didn’t think you were that open-minded,” she replied.

“You never know. I can be very open-minded if I get to watch and join in,” I laughed.

Kelly laughed. “You want to wear this beer? That is never happening, buster! Just because we share an apartment it doesn’t mean we share anything else.”

“What happens in Athens, stays in Athens,” I told her.

“Aaackkk!” Kelly drank some of her beer and came around the bar.

I moved over to a well-worn couch and sat down, with Kelly at my side. “So, we’re all by our lonesome this weekend?”

“Completely alone. Whatever will we do?”

“You mean besides drinking beer and indulging my deviant fantasies,” I teased.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” she laughed.

“How about my not-so-deviant fantasies?”

“That we can do.” With that, Kelly set her beer down and put mine on the table, and she pushed me back on the couch.

It took a couple of hours before we could finish working our way through the various deviant thoughts we had been accumulating for the last week. The beers had warmed up by then and left wet rings on the beat-up coffee table. Our clothing was strewn on the floor around the couch, and I simply lay there on the couch with her on my chest, breathing slowly. This was what I had really wanted in Iraq, simply to be with Kelly. My problems seemed much less important when she was with me. I wasn’t sure how we would do it, but from now until she got out of school, we needed to spend weekends together.

Now I simply held her, my hands idly rubbing her back. Her breasts were mashed down against my chest, her legs were intertwined with mine, and her hair was all over, falling into my face and tickling my nose. She turned her head to me and said, “What are you thinking?”

“Just that you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“I love you, Grim,” she answered. Then her stomach rumbled. Kelly giggled and pushed herself upright. “I love you, but I need some food!”

I nodded. “One part of me says to argue and go back to what we were doing, but the other part of me says I’m hungry, too. Any plans?”

“Let’s go out! It’s Friday night and you and I haven’t gone out for way too long! Let’s go get some dinner and go to a few bars or something, maybe a club!” she said excitedly. “Maybe we’ll run into a few of my friends, and they can get jealous over you!”

I laughed at that. “Now I know you’re nuts. Still, why not?” I swung my legs around, so I was sitting on the couch, and wondering if it needed cleaning or steam disinfecting. Kelly scampered off to the bathroom and I grabbed my duffle bag. I took it into the bedroom with the open door, suspecting it was Kelly’s, and saw enough inside to know I was right. I tossed it on the bed and rooted around inside for something decent to wear out. Some clean khakis and a dress shirt seemed about right.

Kelly came out of the bathroom wearing a gigantic over-sized terry cloth robe. “Your turn,” she said.

“These look okay?” I asked, holding up the pants and shirt. “I forgot to bring my tuxedo.”

She laughed at that. “I’m having a hard time thinking of you in a tuxedo. That’ll be fine. This isn’t Sunday brunch at the Armonk.”

“Good to know.” I grabbed my toilet kit and went into the bathroom. Behind me, Kelly yelled that spare towels were under the sink.

When I finished showering and shaving, I pulled my briefs on and went back to the bedroom to dress. Kelly was already dressed, in very tight designer jeans and a loose shimmery top that floated around her and, while opaque, was light enough to show that the only thing underneath it was Kelly herself. She was wearing some dangly silver earrings and was sitting at a vanity table doing her makeup. “Now I’m not so sure I want to go out. Does the deli deliver?”

“Forget it, Grim. We’re going out tonight!”

“Let’s not plan on going far!”

She just laughed at me, so I pulled my clothes on. With me, it’s a lot simpler - pull on the shirt, pull on the pants, and tuck everything in. With Kelly around nobody was going to be looking at me anyway. I waited while she finished her makeup, tossed on a few silver necklaces and bracelets, and then slipped into some killer heels. I made the appropriate whistles and comments. Kelly handed me the keys to her Miata. “Want to drive?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Good. I let some people know. Everybody wants to meet you.”

I glanced at her and smiled. “Oh, really? Just what have you been telling them?”

“Oh, not much. Just that you’re tall, handsome, incredibly smart and brave, and are hung like a horse,” she replied, with a straight face no less.

“So, you basically lied to them.”

“Through my teeth!” she laughed.

“You are going to get spanked!” I told her. She kept laughing and I led the way out the door. She locked the apartment, and we went down to her Miata. “Just where are we going?” I asked.

“A place called Houser’s. It’s over on 78. Burgers, barbecue, beer - I think they call it upscale casual. It’s got a New Orleans feel to it,” she replied.

“Does that mean it’s still underwater?” New Orleans was still recovering from Hurricane Katrina, and probably would be for years to come.

“No, not quite. You’ll like it. They have these Cajun stuffed peppers that will just blow you away!”

“Lead the way, babe.”

Kelly pointed me towards the road and got me heading to Route 78, and then heading towards UGA. Meanwhile she pulled out a cell phone and started tapping at it. I glanced over and was surprised because there wasn’t a keyboard. “What’s that?”

“It’s my iPhone,” she replied.

“An iPhone, that’s a cell phone, right?”

Kelly held it up so I could see it. It looked like a piece of black glass, with a bunch of little pictures on it. “It’s a cell phone, but it’s actually a computer, too, and plays songs like an iPod.”

“You’ll have to show me. I heard they were pretty expensive.” I pulled my cell phone out of my shirt pocket. “This is just a standard flip phone.”

“This makes phone calls, but it comes with earbuds, so you can download music from a computer or the Internet and listen to it. Oh, it’s also got a way to type text messages into it and send them to anybody else!”

“Yeah, texting, a way for rich people to talk to each other without having to talk. Meanwhile us peasants still have to use our mouths?” I teased.

“I’ll show you inside. It’s really cool!” she gushed. After that we were close to where we were going, so she pointed me off of the road and into a parking lot off a giant strip mall. Houser’s Bayou was a stand-alone place out at the road. I found a spot on the side and let Kelly take the lead. We went inside and found the entrance area packed, but Kelly just waved at some people over by the bar. “We’re with them!” she told the hostess over the din of the crowd. The people waved back, and we were let through. I followed Kelly to the bar.