Chapter 61: The Goat Whisperer

Friday, September 5, 2008

I had to do a lot of yard work at that resort. Kelly was very insistent that the lawn needed to be mowed as often as possible. I also had to ‘clear the weeds’, ‘trim the shrubs’, ‘edge the lawn’, and perform every other possible type of yard maintenance. On the other hand, I considered it critical to provide the best customer service possible. It’s just the kind of guy I am.

Still, we did have to get out of the room on occasion, if simply to gas up the mower. Sandals had a bunch of restaurants, but even though you could stay at the resort the entire time and never leave, the resort was directly off West Bay Street, a main highway. You could catch a cab anywhere you wanted to go, and the Bahamians had figured out the best ways to fleece Americans. You could spend a year there and probably never eat at the same place twice, and over on Paradise Island, which you could drive to, was a casino. We went over there for dinner one night and went through the place. Big disappointment. Nobody was there in tuxedos and evening gowns like in the movies. It looked more like a Shriner’s convention. I kept my hands in my pockets. I didn’t need to gamble to spend money. Now I had a wife to do that for me!

A very amusing moment came at the casino when a married couple passed by us. They must have been in their fifties, and while he was unattractive, she was hideous. They were both at least sixty pounds’ overweight, at a minimum, and she had some truly awful tattoos on her cleavage. After they passed us by, I whispered to Kelly, “You still want a tattoo?” She looked daggers at me and poked me in the ribs. I just laughed.

The resort was private, but it was in a string of resorts that lined the shore. It wasn’t quite as private as the ads made it out to be. There was a cute little private island just off the shore that they ran shuttles to regularly. It had to be man-made, and it was so small it couldn’t be on any maps. It promised ‘secluded and romantic hideaways’ but they weren’t that secluded. I would say that Kelly and I had a lot more privacy back at the property on Lake Matucket! Still, if Kelly wanted to remove her top and sunbathe topless, that was the place to do it. The resort was adult couples only, no children, and their clothing policy was relatively liberal. If you wanted to sunbathe topless, and nobody complained, that was your business. One day she even slipped off the bottom for a bit, but then got nervous when she heard some people nearby.

I had to laugh at her about it, though. Kelly has always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak to her, at least if she’s around people who don’t know her, and she likes to tease me when she can get away with it. She’s beautiful and she knows it. She packed two bikinis and a one-piece suit, and I’m not sure which was the most provocative. She had a tiny pale green bikini that turned completely transparent when wet, a mesh bikini that hid absolutely nothing, and a white one-piece that also turned transparent. When she climbed out of the water, men stared, and women smacked them.

One surprising thing was that some of the photos of the place didn’t quite match the reality. A few of the ground floor suites were ‘Swim Up Crystal Lagoon’ suites, and the photos show amorous young couples embracing in a pool directly off the living room. It sounded pretty kinky, but it was more than a little public! What you didn’t see from that angle is that the ‘Crystal Lagoon’ connected all the suites and was in view of people on the walkways on the other side of the lagoon. Anybody walking or swimming by could watch you being amorous! Add in the fact that the lagoon was lighted, and Kelly and I would have had more privacy skinny-dipping at night in Lake Matucket.

Still, the place was pretty decadent. After we had figured out the layout and seen some of what was offered, we were sitting on the beach drinking mai tais when Kelly said, “Riley would have loved this place! It’s like Disney World for adults.” I think I turned white as a ghost when she said that, and if I hadn’t already been sitting down, I am sure I would have fallen. Kelly grabbed my arm, and said, “Grim, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

I took a deep breath and calmed down. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but there was nothing Kelly could do about that.

“I am so sorry. I was just ... I am so sorry to bring it up.” Kelly looked like she was about to cry, but I just patted her hand and looked out to sea.

“It’s not your fault.” It was mine.

“Grim, look at me, please.” I turned to face her, my face a bleak mask and my eyes not seeing her. “Grim, I’m sorry. I think we need to talk about this.”

I shrugged and nodded. “Not much we can do about it. It is what it is.”

“Grim, remember that doctor you had to see for your eval after the shooting? You seemed to think he was better than the guys at the VA. I think you should talk to him,” she said.

“I don’t know what he’s going to be able to do.”

“You told me that the doctor in Germany was good, and that this guy was good. They’re not all a bunch of assholes pushing pills like at the VA, honey. It kills me to see you like this. It’s the only thing I worry about with you!”

I gave her a wry smile at that. “That’s it? Do you know the divorce rate for cops? A lot of wives are terrified of something happening to their husbands!”

She smiled and shook her head. “I made my peace with that years ago. I know you, Grim. You’d never be happy in an office. I knew you were a hero back when we started dating. I always knew you’d end up doing something heroic. It’s how you were built. If you weren’t a policeman, you’d be a fireman. If you weren’t a fireman, you’d be an EMT or a fire jumper or something even crazier. I can live with that. What I can’t live with is you killing yourself from the inside out like this. Please, I am begging you, see a doctor. Please!”

“When I get home, I’ll call him. I think we can wait that long.”

“Please. You said he seemed to know what he was doing. Maybe he doesn’t know about soldiers, but he must know about cops if he has to evaluate them. Didn’t you tell me police officers can get stress like you did?”

I nodded. “Some can really freak out. You hear stories and they tell you some of it at the academy. Some guys can’t handle the shooting, or they can’t handle getting shot. Maybe they can’t get past the ‘thou shalt not’ thing. Some start breaking down. Booze, drugs, women...” As I said the last, I smiled and waggled my eyebrows at Kelly.

“Forget that! I’m all the woman you’ll ever need!” She shoved my arm. “Promise me you’ll make that call?”

“I promise.”

She was silent for a bit, and then asked, “Did you ever think what you would have done if the department had asked you to resign, or if they had fired you?”

I looked back out to sea, and then lied to her. “Never gave it a thought.” I had given it some thought, a lot of thought. After failing as a soldier, if I had then failed as a police officer ... I had some very black thoughts at the time.

Kelly dragged me back up to the room and tried to get my mind on something more pleasant, and generally succeeded at it. Then we got dressed and headed out for dinner. She had some skirts and tops that were almost as revealing as her swimsuits and considering that she had ‘forgotten’ the suitcase with her undies, she looked spectacular. It made for an interesting and exhausting evening.

Still, all good things come to an end, and the following Sunday morning found us packing up and heading back to the States. We were back in Matucket by mid-afternoon. I was suffering from extreme carnal dissipation, complicated by an alcohol and cholesterol overload. Put bluntly, we screwed ourselves to death and then spent the rest of the time eating and drinking. If I have to die of something, that’s the way I want to go out! I needed to get back to work just to get some rest!

I delayed talking to Doctor Shemel for a few weeks longer. Technically I was still a probationary officer and would be until I had been on the force for ninety days. My time on administrative suspension counted for those days, too. I had been sworn in on April 4^th, so add three months and I would come off probation on July 4^th, Independence Day. I would still be a rookie, but I couldn’t be fired on a whim. I would be a civil servant and there would have to be a formal complaint and formal hearings, which I could fight. I didn’t want to chance talking to Shemel and having him say something to the department before then.

Realistically, it didn’t matter. Kelly and I came home from the Bahamas on Sunday, June 29. I couldn’t even call him to set up an appointment until the next day, Monday, June 30. The odds of my getting an appointment in the next few days were low. I waited another week, until Monday, July 7, to make the call, and didn’t get an appointment for another two weeks in any case. I still wasn’t sure what he could do to help, but he was the first shrink I had talked to since Perlmutter in Germany who wanted to do more than just hand me a few pills and get me out of his office. Worse, if I didn’t go see him, I’d never hear the end of it from Kelly!

More curious was a conversation I had when I reported to work the afternoon of the 7^th. Right after roll call and inspection, but before I could head out to get into Paul Four-One, my cruiser for the night, Sergeant Castle tapped me on the shoulder and told me that Chief Jefferson wanted to see me. “What’d you do now, Reaper?”

“Not a clue, Sarge.”

“Well, go see him and then let me know if there’s a problem.”

I nodded and went up to the second floor, where the Chief’s office was. It was late in the afternoon, so he didn’t have any meetings scheduled. I got inside after about five minutes. “You wanted to see me, Chief?”

“Yes, thank you, Officer Reaper. I just wanted to say congratulations, you are officially off probation now,” he told me.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, you want to tell me how you managed to piss off Clinton Alderdyce?” he asked.

I stared for a second and replied, “Who?”

“Clinton Alderdyce. He’s been trying to get you fired for weeks now.”

“Never heard of him. Who is he?”

“He’s the County Councilman from the Fourth District. Ever since the shooting he’s been after me and the rest of the council to get rid of somebody who is dangerously headstrong and gun-happy. His words, not mine.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Like I said, Chief, I never heard of the guy. Where’s the Fourth District, anyway?”

“It’s the southern end of Lake Matucket, mostly suburban.”

“Huh.”

“Most of the council backed off after Justice decided to chew on the Review Board instead of you, and after they realized you would be getting a commendation, but he kept pushing. I just kept delaying things and not being around when he called, and now it’s too late. Just keep an eye out for the guy because he has it in for you,” he warned. “Maybe you gave his wife a ticket or something.”

“Maybe so, sir, but it’s news to me.”

“Anyway, that was it. Congrats on surviving this mess.”

“What commendation, sir? You said earlier that Jerry and I were both getting something, but it hadn’t been decided yet. I mean, I’m just curious.”

“Officer Wolinski will get the Purple Heart, of course. You’ll be getting the Combat Star. They’ll be awarded to you at the PBA dinner in September, so try not to get shot before then,” he answered.

“Yes, sir!”

“Also, now that you’re off probation, go see Caroline Upgrove and Lieutenant FitzHugh. You need to begin your continuing education so that you can advance to Senior Patrolman.”

“Yes, sir.” I thanked him, took my leave, and went out on patrol.

Continuing education was a constant with police work. In that it was a lot like the military. There were always new courses and classes you needed to take to keep current and advance. In Georgia there were three categories of law enforcement officer, Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. Currently I was a Basic law enforcement officer, which simply meant I had made it through the academy. I needed about another 160 hours of academy training to get to Intermediate status, which worked out to about four weeks. In addition, to become a Senior Patrolman, the MPD required that an officer had to be both an Intermediate level officer and have at least a two-year degree. I would be very lucky to be able to get that much training and college done inside of two or three years.

I explained it to Kelly, and she simply nodded. “Okay, so for the next few years, you need to study, study, study.” I nodded in wry agreement at that. “If you do at least two classes each semester and two more over the summer that is six classes a year. Maybe you can get some credit for other stuff, maybe stuff you learned in the Army.”

“Like what? Field-stripping machine guns?”

“Like Spanish!”

I stopped at that. That might be possible. Spanish would certainly chew up some of the electives I needed and could be very useful. “Maybe I could test out of that,” I commented.

“Test out and get credit!” I nodded and Kelly continued, “If you work at it, what with the credits you already have, you can probably get a two-year degree in two years.”

“I’ll still need to take a bunch of stuff at the academy.”

“You need to start signing up for the classes you need. Where are they held, anyway?”

“It’s a couple of hours from here, down in Forsyth. They hold all the advanced classes at one location at the main academy. Athens and the other branches are just for the Basic classes and a few other odds and ends. I’ll probably go for a week at a time,” I explained.

“So, sign up now.”

“Got it!” I agreed.

Kelly’s tone got a little different at that. “Grim, I was thinking, right now I am trying to make a go of it at Matucket State, and you need to concentrate on your next step as a police officer. We’ve always joked about having kids, but have you ever really thought about it?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “I am sure you will be able to deliver wonderful sons.”

“Grim! I’m serious!”

“So am I! I bet they’ll be holy terrors, too!”

“Grim!”

I wrapped my arms around my wife. “Okay, it’s my serious face. How about we keep things just like they are for a few more years. That will give us a chance to get a house built and get you established with Matucket State and me with the MPD. When I make it to Senior Patrolman, we can stop practicing stadium construction and start building a few for real. How’s that for a plan?”

She hugged me back. “I am going to kill my father one of these days for that naming-rights business, but I like that plan.”

“The next day we both have off, we can practice construction techniques all day long,” I promised.

Kelly snorted. “You’re not sixteen anymore, Grim. Don’t promise more than you can deliver!”

I swatted Kelly on the butt for that one. “Just remember your part of this. Your job is to produce male stadiums, so your father can get his naming rights.”

“I repeat, what makes you think we are having boys? We are due for some girls in this family!”

“Never going to happen. I might not be a big-time scientist, but I can count noses, and we only produce male noses in the Reaper family.”

“That is a statistical improbability!” I groaned at that. Kelly added, “Though I would just love to see Jack have nothing but daughters. It would serve him right! Wait until they grow up to become teenagers!”

“That would be the ultimate proof that God has a sense of humor!”

“Okay, so we have a plan. Build a house, and get some college and training under our belts, and then make a family,” she finished.

I smiled. We had just enough time before I had to leave for the station. I started undoing Kelly’s blouse. “Practice makes perfect!” Kelly giggled and agreed.

That weekend we went over to my folks for a barbecue. I asked my father when we were outside, “Ever heard of a guy named Clinton Alderdyce?”

Dad gave me an odd look. “There’s a Clinton Alderdyce on the County Council. That Clinton Alderdyce?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy. Know anything about him?”

Dad shrugged. “Well, like I said, he’s on the County Council. Other than that, he’s a lawyer. He’s pretty much owned by the Holdens, been their attorney since forever. Why?”

A light bulb clicked on for me. A County Council seat was supposed to be only a part-time job, with just a stipend and some expenses reimbursed. The councilmen all had day jobs, owning a business or the like. A prominent local lawyer sounded about right. “He’s got it in for me. He’s been trying to get me fired ever since the shootout, says I’m too dangerous to be a cop.”

“Don’t tell your mother. She’d probably root for the guy.”

I snorted. “I think it’s because I gave Randy Holden a ticket that morning before the shooting. He must have told his father to get it quashed or something.”

Dad gave me an odd look. “That would probably be tough, considering his father died about two years ago.”

“Mister Holden died?”

“And Randy’s half-brother, too.”

“I didn’t know he had a brother.”

“Half-brother. Gary, that’s old Mister Holden, had a first wife and a couple of kids, a boy and a girl. The boy moved to California when he got out of school, and the daughter and the wife died in a car wreck. Randy’s mom latched onto him a couple of years later. Anyway, the boy died about two years ago and Gary died shortly afterwards. I heard his heart gave out. He was getting up there, that I remember.”

“Huh. So, Randy runs Holden now?”

Dad nodded. “I think Mrs. Holden runs it, but Randy probably has a fancy title. This all happened about two years ago, while you were in Iraq. That’s probably why you never heard about it.”

“Probably. Randy’s still a punk. When I pulled him over, he tried to slip me a hundred to let him go.”

“Sounds about right. Watch out for him. When he took over The Holden Companies, he also took over Clinton Alderdyce.”

“Interesting. Next time I see the Chief, I will let him know. Thanks.”

Professionally, my job, while quite interesting, never quite hit the level of excitement it had while I was still in training. I considered that a good thing. I wasn’t all that interested in being around when things got exciting. That’s not to say it was boring, but I managed to avoid being the guest of honor at a shooting. Matucket’s level of crime seemed relatively stable. I seemed to be permanently on the night shift, and only got off that when I had to fill in either on the graveyard or day shift. Your shift was pretty much determined by your level of seniority, and rookies got what was left over when the senior guys got through picking their shifts. Nothing new about that, and I had known it going in.

Late that summer I had to have words with Jack, because he was being the ultimate asshole. Bobbie Joe was going to be attending Duke University in North Carolina with a history degree. He was planning on a law degree eventually, and the details were that while he would get some nice scholarships, he would still have to get a campus job. Jack made a few jokes about Bobbie Joe not having any time to chase girls, and that he should have grown up big and strong like Jack and me, so that he could get a sports scholarship. That came on top of some other comments from Jack when he said that he wasn’t sure he would be able to graduate on time, since football was taking so much time. He added to it by making some cracks about letting Teresa stay behind and having her as the ‘away girlfriend’ while he had a local girlfriend when he got into the NFL.

Mom looked distressed at that, and Bobbie Joe looked pissed, but Jack was totally oblivious. I sighed and stood up. “Jack, you want to come with me for a bit. I need to bring something in from outside.”

“What?”

“Just come with me for a moment.”

Jack shrugged, then stood up. I led the way out the back door. Jack followed me around to the rear corner, where I stopped. I looked around for a moment and made sure we were in a quiet spot in the back yard. “So, what do you need me for?” pressed my brother.

“Just this.” I placed my left hand on his shoulder and smiled. Then I balled up my right fist and threw a haymaker into his stomach.

It took Jack completely by surprise, and he doubled over in both pain and surprise. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he coughed out.

I pushed him upright, and then hit him a second time. As he doubled over, I said, “The first one was for Bobbie Joe. The second one was for Mom. If I have to hit you a third time it will be for Teresa.”

Jack slowly crawled upright. “What the fuck?”

“Jack, I love you like a brother, but you are the most self-centered asshole in the entire fucking county, and believe me, that’s saying a lot.”

“What?”

“Jack, do you ever actually think about the words that dribble from your lips? The only thing our mother has ever wanted is that all three of her sons go to college and make something of themselves. Our parents don’t have a lot of savings. She’s a nurse and Dad’s a county employee. Do you have any idea what college really costs? Bobbie Joe is going to have to work part-time as a tutor, probably to ‘student-athletes’ like you, too full of themselves to actually study for themselves. Our parents are going to have to take out student loans to pay for his college. Were you aware of that?”

Jack started to say something, but I cut him off. “Duke is pretty expensive, but that’s what parents do. He won’t have a car like you and I did. That’s what he’s paying to go to college. Do you remember what I paid to go to college? I started college in the Army. I paid with three Purple Hearts and a medium-sized dose of PTSD. I suppose that one of these days Bobbie Joe and I can argue about which of us paid more.”

Jack gave me a dirty look, but he kept his mouth shut. I kept going. “So, what is a college education costing you, Jack? I’ll tell you what it is costing you. You get to play a fucking game for four years and spend your off-duty time banging cheerleaders! When you’re not banging cheerleaders, you can drink as much as you want! You don’t even plan on graduating!” I got another nasty look at that, but Jack didn’t argue. “The worst part? Teresa! That girl is the best thing that has ever happened to you, and you plan to cheat on her and you say it in front of your mother! Have you lost your fucking mind?”

I pushed away from my brother, leaving him there in the lee of the brick wall. “Do what you want, Jack, but don’t expect us to respect you. It’s your life.” I walked back into the house.

Mom asked, “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s just getting a few things from the shed. Listen, Kelly and I need to be going. I’ll see you later.”

Kelly looked surprised at me, but she got up off the chair she was sitting in. She followed me outside and took my hand. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing. I was just talking to Jack about a few things.” We headed over to Moe’s and had a couple of burritos.

All through the summer and into the early fall I did the normal things police did on the night shift. I handed out tickets and wrote up accident reports. I arrested drunk drivers on Friday and Saturday nights after hanging around out of sight of a local night spot. (That was almost a guaranteed arrest, easier than shooting fish in a barrel.) On occasion I was called out to assist in a local shooting or drug arrest, or to back up another officer. It could be anything. You know the guy who strings up the yellow ‘Police’ tape at a crime scene? He’s not the twenty-year veteran, he’s the rookie.

The one thing I truly learned was just how bad drugs were. I am not saying I didn’t know drugs were in Matucket, but back when I had been in school, that just hadn’t been something I was into. Maybe I was just naïve. My interest was in sports in those days, and anything that might get Coach to kick me off the team was just out! Pushing the bounds for me consisted of trying to sneak the occasional beer. It wasn’t until I began to see what drugs did to people that I truly understood what a scourge they were. I think half of the arrests we made were somehow involved in drugs. We would catch people selling drugs. If I pulled over somebody, I might find drug paraphernalia and that would give me probable cause to do a search. We would investigate fires and explosions from drug labs going up in smoke. We would be called out to drug overdoses and back up the emergency personnel. Maybe it would be a robbery where people needed money to buy drugs. Some of the people we would see repeatedly.

It could be heart-breaking. In one case we responded to a report of a dead child, to find that Mom had simply wandered away for four days, smoking crack, and her three-month old baby had died of neglect. Another time a father beat a child half to death because the little boy was crying, and Dad was too busy smoking meth to deal with a dirty diaper. It was simply beyond my understanding. I wasn’t the only guy who felt that way, and it was very difficult at times to not fall into an ‘us versus them’ sort of attitude.

Kelly insisted that I not hold back on things, and that I should tell her everything. She said that she had been reading somewhere that one of the things that drove cops and their spouses apart was that the wife couldn’t understand what her husband was dealing with. She wanted me to tell her the ugly parts of what I had to put up with. She told me that she would be with me for everything I dealt with. I will probably never understand how I ever deserved her.

Kelly started at Matucket State right after the Fourth of July. Classes didn’t start until Monday, August 18, but she needed to be in her office and setting things up well before then. She had to set up her lab, too. That part kind of escaped me - what is a computer lab? A bunch of students on laptops? How is that any different than whatever else they do? My opinion was not requested. Kelly seemed to enjoy it, however.

I was starting college, too. I had enough time to get a transcript from Jefferson and apply to M-Triple-C. I had given this a lot of thought and decided that I did not want to get a degree in Criminal Justice. I wanted a degree in something that I could transfer to Matucket State, and a lot of the courses in Criminal Justice did not transfer, just like the credits I had from the academy didn’t transfer. What use was a college credit that can’t be used for anything? I decided to get a degree in History. The sciences and math were out, and business was kind of boring to me. I wasn’t interested in anything health related, and art and music were just ridiculous on their face. I briefly considered getting a degree in Spanish, but I didn’t really want to read Spanish literature. I just wanted to speak it better. I figured I could always get a few conversational Spanish classes under my belt, and hopefully get some credit for what I already spoke. There were a lot of Spanish speakers moving into West Georgia. History sounded interesting, especially when you figured that I had been living a fair bit of it already. What would our children and grandchildren think of what was happening in the Middle East? I had been there, maybe I could throw my two cents in.

I limited my academics to a couple of day classes that first semester, History 101, Western Civilization I, and History 104, Middle Eastern History. Kelly was tickled to death that I was going back to class, and she promised all sorts of rewards if I did well. She then proceeded to give me a graphic description and demonstration of exactly what I could expect for good grades. I would have done a hell of a lot better at Matucket High with that kind of motivation! I’d have ended up in Harvard, not Iraq!

In August classes started for both of us. It felt kind of strange, since it had been years since I had been on a school campus. My classes at Jefferson up at Drum had been on the base. I had Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes, Noon-1:00 for Western Civ I History, and 2:00-3:00 for Middle Eastern History. After that, I would head over to the station to start my evening shift at 4:00. Those days would be busy! I made sure to tell both my teachers about my job and that my schedule was subject to change. I also told them they wouldn’t have a harder working student and that I would be sure to make up any missed assignments. They were both quite appreciative of a student who promised not to fuck off!

Just why that was didn’t become truly apparent until about fifteen minutes into the first Western Civ I class. By pure luck that occurred on one of my days off, so I was in civvies rather than my uniform, and rather than wearing my duty belt with holster, I had my off-duty weapon, a Glock 27, in an inside-the-waistband holster. That was basically a much smaller version of my standard 22 model, and only held nine rounds but shared the same .40 S&W ammunition. When I wore the concealable holster, it tucked inside my pants and I simply left my shirttails out, so nobody could see it. Anyway, about fifteen minutes into our first class, a pair of young punk college kids come in acting like they owned the place. They were talking up a storm, interrupting the class, and showing absolutely no respect for the teacher. When she asked them to be quiet, one of them told her to stuff it. They sat down next to each other and then proceeded to start screwing around with their cell phones, sending and receiving text messages and even answering phone calls. She asked them several times to stop, but they ignored her, and then left about ten minutes before class ended. The relief in the room was palpable.