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ds_flashfictionF & K, Gen with some angst, post-CotW: a story told in letters. About 5500 words.
This story is not what I originally had in mind for this challenge, but it's what happened when I tried to get Ray out of Chicago in a new but plausible way. Major thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
j_s_cavalcante for the truly kick-ass beta and the warm and kindly delivery of same.
Sempervirens
September 25, 1998
Frase--
That was a hell of an adventure--I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Thanks for asking me, and for teaching me all that snow-camping stuff.
How's your new posting? I hope they're treating you good--it must have sucked to be kept away from your home for so long.
Even though it's home for me, Chicago's not the same without you.
Ray (Kowalski--like you couldn't tell)
October 14, 1998
Dear Ray,
It was good to hear from you. I'm enjoying the chance to reacquaint myself with the Northwest Territories and its people, and to serve in a less formal environment than that of the Canadian Consulate. However, I do find that I miss certain aspects of life in Chicago, your company most of all. I, too, retain many happy memories of our search for Franklin's hand.
Diefenbaker sends his regards. I will spare you his shameless pleading for doughnuts. Please convey my greetings to your parents and to all at the 2-7. Have there been any interesting cases of late?
Sincerely,
Benton Fraser
November 3, 1998
Frase--
The cases are pretty much the same old same old. I told you: the crazy stuff only happens when you're around. Besides, I'm sure Frannie has told you more about what goes on here than you want to know, already. Right? Hi to Dief. And Maggie, if you see her.
Ray
P.S. Is it snowing there, yet? I guess it must be.
November 20, 1998
Dear Ray,
While it is true that Francesca writes to me from time to time, she cannot provide the viewpoint that interests me most, that is, your own. I would be delighted to hear about whatever you wish to tell me--I have settled into a routine, here, and while the physical challenges are ubiquitous, mental stimulation and news of good friends are comparatively rare.
Maggie was pleased to receive your greetings, and sends hers to you in return. We have had a certain amount of snow, but nothing unusual for the season. As I doubt that my next missive will reach you in time, let me take this opportunity to wish you very happy holidays.
Sincerely,
Benton Fraser
December 11, 1998
Frase--
Merry Christmas. Or Happy New Year, if this is late.
Ray
December 30, 1998
Dear Ray,
The brevity of your last communication has caused me some concern. Is something troubling you? I hope I have not inadvertently offended you in some way. If I have done so, please tell me what is wrong, that I may endeavor to make it right.
Sincerely,
Benton
January 23, 1999
Dear Frase,
You didn't do anything. The whole holiday season just sucked. There was no one here that I wanted to see. I kept thinking about things that are over and done with. I drank more than I should have, and it didn't do me a damn bit of good. Spare me the lecture, OK?
Ray
February 12, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm relieved to hear that I haven't given offense, but I remain most concerned for your welfare. Are you talking with anyone who might be able to support and advise you about making beneficial changes in your life?
Benton
March 2, 1999
Frase,
Yeah, I'm talking to somebody, but don't give me any credit for it. I fucked up in a bad situation and made it worse, and Welsh sent me to get my head shrunk. He kind of had to. I didn't just hit the scumbag I was shooting AT, I hit a hostage, too. College student. Pretty. 22 years old. She made it OK--my bullet caught her in the shoulder--but that don't make it OK that I shot her. And before you ask, yes, I did have my glasses on. I just didn't get them on fast enough to keep her out of the line of fire.
I've about had it with this job. But I got no good ideas for what I'd do if I quit.
Ray
March 18, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm sorry to hear that you've had such a distressing experience. I won't insult you by offering platitudes about the hazards of policing--you know the risks (and the reasons for taking the risks) as well as I do. I can only say that my thoughts are with you, and I hope that the counseling will provide you with some benefit, unlikely as that may seem to you just now.
Take care,
Benton
April 5, 1999
Frase,
The counseling was a gigantic pain in the ass, but I got one thing out of it--I realized I'm better off quitting the CPD and taking my chances than going on the way I have been. So I'm going to take the GTO south and travel around for awhile, maybe stop by my brother's in Arizona and then see what California looks like. Maybe the driving will give me time enough to figure out what to do next. I'll write to you, I promise, but I don't know where I'll be for you to write back to. I guess you could send your next note care of my brother. Right now, I'm in no mood to talk to anybody, including him, but Mom isn't letting up about the visit idea. It's probably easier just to do it. She wants me to see the Grand Canyon, too. And the redwoods. You ever seen them?
Later,
Ray
P.S. Don't argue about the quitting. I signed the papers yesterday.
April 11, 1999
Frase--
I promised myself I'd write you about what happened as soon as I could, even if it wasn't my turn to write. I know that you're going to be asking about it as soon as you get my last letter, but I just couldn't stand to write about it while I was still in Chicago. While I was still trying to be a cop. Not that things are all that great now that I'm on the road. I never thought I'd be doing any of this. But I guess I am. I bought some paper in the last big town and now I'm pulled off the highway somewhere in Texas with nobody looking at me, and I'm writing this on the top of the GTO, so give me a break about the handwriting, OK? Here goes.
I was in a bank. You remember about me and banks, right? I wasn't on duty, but I was going in to work later so I was carrying my piece. I was there to try to fix a credit problem on an account I'd kind of forgotten about while I was undercover as Vecchio.
So I'm waiting to talk to the right bank person, when all of the sudden there's a guy waving a gun around and yelling NOBODY MOVE OR I'LL SHOOT. I freeze, but the bank's security guard doesn't, and the guy with the gun shoots at him. He misses and a little kid screams and goes down. Now I'm fumbling to get my glasses on and get my gun out while the perp is shooting, because I'm kind of off to the side and I figure it's my best chance.
The perp shoots again and the guard takes it in the chest and goes down and stays down. And by then I've got my glasses on and am lining up the shot as fast as I can but he sees me and oh god I'm not fast enough, he grabs this girl and pulls her in front of him just as I shoot. She screams and I see the blood on her shoulder and he's shooting at me but he misses again and I put the next bullet through his head. He and the girl go down together. He doesn't move, but she's crying and moving on the floor, trying to get away, and she looks back at him and sees what the shot has done to his head, and then she's being sick on the floor.
I look real fast at the kid and the guard. The guard isn't moving. The kid is crying and someone's pressing on his leg like they know First Aid. So I yell for someone to call for ambulances and I go to try to help the girl but when she sees me coming with the gun still in my hand she screams again and oh shit she tries to scramble away from me. Someone else grabs her and tries to calm her down and starts putting pressure on her shoulder and I can see in her eyes that she doesn't want me anywhere near her so I holster the gun and check the guard for a pulse, which there isn't any. And then I get out my cell phone and call the whole thing in: bank robbery gone wrong, four people down--two wounded, two dead.
And I have to stand there until the uniforms and the ambulances come, keeping anybody from leaving. The whole place smells like blood and cordite and puke. And I see how people look at me and that makes me feel even sicker than the blood and the puke smell. The guard is dead and the little boy is down from the perp's bullets. The perp is dead and the girl is down from my bullets. In a goddamn bank. And even though the perp started it, there just isn't enough difference between me and him or between me and Marcus Ellery any more.
But I do my job. I don't even lose my cookies, though it was close. We go through the whole crime scene routine. I go in to the 2-7 and I write my report. Welsh sees me looking sick and he knows what happened and he sends me home and I drink for awhile and manage to sleep a little. But when I get up again I see my gun and shoulder rig sitting where I left them, instead of locked up like they should have been, and oh god I don't even want to touch them, much less put them on.
I keep trying. I talk to the shooting team. I talk to the shrink. I visit the hospital to see the boy who got shot. (He's going to be OK.) I try to visit the girl who I shot but her parents are there and they keep me out and say she doesn't want to see me. I write her an apology but she doesn't write back or call. At work I go out on calls and yeah I'm wearing my gun but now it feels like a bomb is strapped to my body instead of something I got used to years ago. And when I go home at night I have to drink to get to sleep and the dreams aren't good.
And one day I'm out with Huey for some reason and an officer down call comes over the radio and we respond and the perp's trapped in a dead end and shooting at us and Huey knows I'm a better shot than he is and he asks if I can shoot the gun out of his hand and I try but oh god my hand shakes and shakes and I can't even line up the damned shot, much less pull the trigger. And Huey looks at me and says forget it and shoots the perp in the shoulder himself. And I realize then that if I can't even shoot a perp with an officer already down, then I can't back up a partner or a fellow officer and I got no business calling myself a cop any more.
So I quit. Welsh tried to talk me out of it. The shrink tried to talk me out of it. Even Huey tried to talk me out of it. I've heard plenty about understandable reactions and the healing power of time and differences in intent and it could happen to anyone but it doesn't MATTER--I don't want a gun in my hand. I don't want to see that shit-scared look in a girl's eye ever again. I don't want any partner of mine bleeding out because I couldn't make myself shoot fast and straight when it counted. It's over, it's done, I'm not a cop any more. I don't know what the hell I am.
Now you know.
Ray
April 20, 1999
Dear Ray,
I hope this note reaches you successfully at your brother's address as of a year ago. (I assume you would have told me if he had relocated.) I have not seen redwood forests or the Grand Canyon except in photographs--I'll be most interested to hear your reactions to them.
I'm very sorry to hear that you're ending your association with the Chicago Police Department. You've done much fine work there, never doubt it. When the time feels right to you, I also hope you will also tell me more about the events that led you to make this decision. I know you would not have done so without good reasons, but I would like to understand better, so that I may offer you the kind of friendship that will serve you best in this difficult transition.
Meanwhile, I hope that your travels are bringing you peace and insight, and whatever else you choose to seek.
With best wishes for your journey,
Benton
May 6, 1999
Frase,
I got your note that you sent to my brother's--he and his family are all fine. I got to be Uncle Ray for a couple days, which was OK, but a couple days was all I felt up for, so I'm moving on in the morning. Grand Canyon next, then California. I'll have to write to you without an address at least a couple more times, because I got no idea where I'll BE in California. The less said the better about the trip from Chicago to here. You getting any signs of Spring, yet? Big honking cactuses are blooming here. I'll write more in a couple of days.
Ray
P.S. Thanks for not giving me a hard time about quitting. Did you get my letter from Texas, yet, about what happened?
May 10, 1999
Frase,
I'm sitting at a view point out over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Biggest fucking excavation I ever saw in my life. But pretty. It looks just like its pictures, only kind of hazy because of the air pollution. Everybody who heard where I was going had advice about what to do here--where to stand, where to stay, where to hike, where to shop for stuff to take home. One thing they told me was to hike down into the canyon a ways--I did that, just for a few minutes, on the Bright Angel trail, and they were right, it's different when you're below the rim. Quieter. You can't see as much, and maybe that makes you feel a little more.
The other piece of advice I took was to watch sunrise from the rim. Yeah, Not A Morning Person Ray got up to see the sunrise. That's all your fault, Frase--two years ago, I wouldn't have done that. Anyway, it was a cool thing to watch. But there were too many other people doing the same thing--some fucking bunch of Russian tourists spent the whole time laughing and telling each other jokes, like a bunch of clowns in the world's biggest church. I wanted to kick them in the head, but I figured that would make things even worse, so I sat still and kept my mouth shut. You would have been proud of me for that, at least. I know you can't write to me until I give you another address but I wish I knew what you thought about my Texas letter. I hope you don't think I fucked up any worse than I already know I did.
Ray
P.S. Here, have a souvenir T-shirt. I got one for me, too.
May 14, 1999
Frase,
I made it to California OK. I'm parked next to a dinky little stretch of highway that goes through the redwoods--only one lane in each direction. There's a little park here, with some big trees, and a stretch of river with a creek coming down to it through a culvert. Turns out redwoods come in all sizes, which I guess I should have expected, huh? It's pretty here, in a solemn kind of way. Except for the blue jays. They're cussing me out for my tortilla chips. Are they still blue jays if they have black heads? The ones in Illinois didn't look like these.
Hope you're doing all right. I'll send you an address as soon as I got one. I miss your letters. And everything.
Ray
P.S. Any chance you could come to California any time soon? These trees are something you got to see.
May 16, 1999
Frase,
I got an address, at least for a little while--it's on the envelope. I was just getting ready to leave that park in the redwoods where I wrote you my last note, and a guy pulled up with car trouble. He'd bought an old Mustang as a fixer-upper, and didn't really know what he was doing with it, yet. I helped him get it back on the road, and he put me onto a place to stay for awhile.
A guy on a motorcycle came by as we were working on the car, and asked me if I ever worked on bikes. He's got a cycle shop in the same town as Phil--that's the guy with the Mustang. Ron is the guy with the bike shop. I'm going to talk to Ron tomorrow, see if there's a chance of a job. I can't say for sure how long I'll be here, but if you want to try writing, go ahead. I promised Phil I'd help with the alternator, at least, and there is so much wrong with that Mustang that I bet I'll be here long enough to get your next letter.
Ray
June 1, 1999
Dear Ray,
Thank you for sending me your new address so promptly. I'm glad to be able to resume my part of our correspondence. I very much appreciate the letters you sent me while you were traveling, especially your letter from Texas. I am certain that was not an easy letter to write.
Let me say, at once, that I have every confidence that you acted rightly during the incident in the bank. I believe I would have made very similar choices, if I had been in analogous circumstances here in Canada. It is most unfortunate that the perpetrator pulled the young lady into your line of fire, but I believe that you took the best course available to you. If you had not taken the time to put on your glasses, you might have seriously wounded or killed a by-stander. If you had waited longer to shoot, the perpetrator might have killed you before you could prevent him from harming more people. The young lady, herself, might well have been his next victim. I know you would have spared her both the physical and the emotional trauma if you could have done so. Hopefully, in time, she will also come to realise that you acted for the general good, and that you deeply regret that chance caused her to pay a personal price in the endeavor.
That said, is there any other way in which I can be helpful to you during this time?
I was most interested to hear your account of the Grand Canyon. Since you enjoyed it, I would almost certainly do so, as well--particularly if they allow members of the public to visit in winter. I am making a note to investigate that. Thank you for the T-shirt--the weather here is almost warm enough for me to wear it--I have stowed it carefully until then. Do you happen to know what the petroglyphs represent? What T-shirt design did you choose for yourself?
Were the redwood trees that you saw Sequoia gigantea (giant redwood) or Sequoia sempervirens (coast redwood)? I believe that the birds you described might be Steller's jays, rather than blue jays--the black head is typical of the former species. I would be most interested to experience the redwood forest ecosystem, but I am afraid I that my duties will keep me here for the immediate future--we are short-handed, and it would not be well received for me to request the necessary time off so soon after our adventure. However, I would suggest that we keep such a trip in mind as a future possibility.
With all best wishes to you for your current projects,
Benton
June 16, 1999
Frase--
Hey, we got two-way communication, again! Greatness.
Thanks for what you said about the bank. Means a lot, coming from you.
I'm working part-time at Ron's cycle shop. And I'm helping Phil and his son, Tommy, fix up the Mustang. Tommy's about 14, and Phil is trying to use the car to do father-son bonding, which I know from personal experience is not a bad idea except that Phil doesn't know much about cars. What he really wants is to get Tommy to quit smoking the local product and do better in school. Tommy's not too sure about that. I didn't know, when I stopped here, that the local economy is partly based on dope-growing, but I figured out what questions to ask after I overheard one of Ron's hairier customers try to pay him in weed. You'll be happy to know that Ron held out for cash.
The customers are a mixed bunch--hippie bikers, kids who tear around in the woods on dirt-bikes, and some real stuffed-shirt cycle club members. The bikes are a mix, too--the kids mostly ride Japanese bikes; the adults tend toward Harleys. I test-drive the repaired bikes several times a day, so I've given up spiking the hair for now--the helmet just squashes it down again. And I'm letting the beard grow--there are a lot of beards around here. I blend in OK as long as I keep my mouth shut. Which believe it or not I CAN do.
What are you doing, these days? You sure you can't wrangle a visit?
Ray
P.S. Sequoia sempervirens, Phil says.
P.S. #2: Black T-shirt. Lightning hitting the Grand Canyon.
P.S. #3: I got no idea about the petroglyphs.
July 1, 1999
Dear Ray,
Please excuse this hurried note--there have been three murderous assaults in my territory in the last week, all with young female victims. I have a lead on a possible suspect, and must leave immediately to pursue (and hopefully apprehend) him. Congratulations on the job. I will write again when I can.
Benton
July 16, 1999
Frase--
Are you OK? Did you get the perp? Write to me, damn it.
Ray
August 3, 1999
Dear Ray,
We have not yet succeeded in capturing the perpetrator, but we have strong evidence of his identity and new leads regarding his possible location. Unfortunately, two more homicides have been added to his tally since I last wrote you. As a result, I still have very little time to write--this string of incidents must be brought to a close as quickly as possible. I know your good wishes are with us. Take care of yourself,
Benton
August 19, 1999
Frase--
You're making me nervous. Are you out hot-footing it over the tundra, or what? You did take some backup, didn't you? Work is slowing down at the cycle shop--everyone's getting ready for the winter rains, which are not the best for motorcycle riding. Phil says the high school needs a substitute teacher for a few weeks of Auto Shop classes. He works there as a counselor, and is going to try to get me in. I figure I can teach that OK, and supposedly I don't need a credential to substitute. The interview is tomorrow. Maybe I'll hang onto this note until I can tell you how it goes.
Ray
P.S. The interview went OK, but it's not just Auto Shop they need a substitute for--whoever they hire has to teach three shop classes (no problem) but also a Civics class. Of all the boring shit they could have wanted, that has got to be the most boring. I'm thinking about it.
P.S. #2: Write, damn it!
September 6, 1999
Frase--
I took the job. It's only for six weeks or so, until the regular teacher I'm subbing for recovers from his hip replacement. You should see me working the Civics class--I'm going to put a copy of my first-day-of-school speech in this letter for you. I'm even getting used to people calling me Mr. Kowalski. That always used to mean my Dad.
Ray
P.S. Do I have to write Frobisher to find out what's happened to you?
September 24, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm sorry for the delay in answering your last two notes. I have not been able to collect my mail personally for some time, and I'm afraid the local postmaster insisted on holding it rather than allowing a colleague to bring it to me. Only today did I succeed in convincing him that I was fully able to deal with my own correspondence, although I believe I could have done so as early as a week ago. My right arm is perfectly functional, after all. And the left is securely pinned and is healing well enough, though I fear some time must pass before I will be able to use it normally.
Thank you for the wonderfully evocative speech. It was most enjoyable to see your interrogation techniques adapted for pedagogical use. How did the Civics students respond to it? Please tell me more about your adventures in education. As you know, recovering from a work injury is a tedious business, so I shall be glad of all the news you can give me.
Benton
October 9, 1999
Damn it, Frase!
What did you get yourself into this time? What happened to your arm? Did that multiple-homicide perp do it? Who's taking care of you? You better not be trying to take care of everything yourself. I'll come up there and cuff your good arm to the bedframe, I swear.
Ray
P.S. Civics discussion today was about legal activism, civil disobedience, and revolutionary law-breaking. Big argument about whether George Washington and Ché Guevara were trying to do the same thing. This gig was supposed to be over, next week, but the regular teacher isn't up to coming back, yet, so it looks like it might go on awhile longer.
October 26, 1999
Really, Ray.
There's no need to take that tone. I am receiving good care--indeed, too much care, as the ladies of the town seem determined to offer attentions that I neither need nor want. As for what happened, suffice to say that I sustained a broken arm while in pursuit of the suspect in the string of homicides. I am happy to report that the injury did not prevent me from apprehending him. Indeed, it was a small price to pay for removing him from general circulation.
BF
November 12, 1999
Frase--
Broken arm, huh? With pins holding it together? And that's all? You better be telling me everything, buddy.
You got any plans for how to spend your time until they'll let you back on active duty? Maybe you could come visit, since they got to cover for you on account of the arm, anyway. I could show you some big trees. We could eat some salmon, watch the fog roll in. My place is big enough to hold us both.
Maybe I shouldn't keep bugging you about this. Letters are better than nothing--it's just that I miss tossing ideas around with you, like we used to do. Especially now that I've got to decide what to do next with my life. I want to hear what you think, and I don't want to have to wait three weeks for the next paragraph. But if you really can't get away, I'll see if I can figure a way to come visit you. If that's OK.
Ray
P.S. Civics discussion today was about exposing corrupt politicians and forcing them out of office. How does Canada handle that? Want to be a guest speaker for my class?
November 28, 1999
Dear Ray,
Actually, visiting you might be a felicitous course of action, at this juncture. The town ladies have been taking things to extremes, and I find it most uncomfortable. And I would be happy to discuss your future options with you, and to address your Civics class. What should I bring along with me, in order to make my visit least troublesome? When would be convenient for me to arrive?
Benton
December 12, 1999
Frase--
Bring clothes for rainy weather. Try to get a flight that lands here in the evening or on a weekend. Then let me know when to meet your plane, and I'll be there.
Ray
This story is not what I originally had in mind for this challenge, but it's what happened when I tried to get Ray out of Chicago in a new but plausible way. Major thanks to
j_s_cavalcante for the truly kick-ass beta and the warm and kindly delivery of same.Sempervirens
September 25, 1998
Frase--
That was a hell of an adventure--I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Thanks for asking me, and for teaching me all that snow-camping stuff.
How's your new posting? I hope they're treating you good--it must have sucked to be kept away from your home for so long.
Even though it's home for me, Chicago's not the same without you.
Ray (Kowalski--like you couldn't tell)
October 14, 1998
Dear Ray,
It was good to hear from you. I'm enjoying the chance to reacquaint myself with the Northwest Territories and its people, and to serve in a less formal environment than that of the Canadian Consulate. However, I do find that I miss certain aspects of life in Chicago, your company most of all. I, too, retain many happy memories of our search for Franklin's hand.
Diefenbaker sends his regards. I will spare you his shameless pleading for doughnuts. Please convey my greetings to your parents and to all at the 2-7. Have there been any interesting cases of late?
Sincerely,
Benton Fraser
November 3, 1998
Frase--
The cases are pretty much the same old same old. I told you: the crazy stuff only happens when you're around. Besides, I'm sure Frannie has told you more about what goes on here than you want to know, already. Right? Hi to Dief. And Maggie, if you see her.
Ray
P.S. Is it snowing there, yet? I guess it must be.
November 20, 1998
Dear Ray,
While it is true that Francesca writes to me from time to time, she cannot provide the viewpoint that interests me most, that is, your own. I would be delighted to hear about whatever you wish to tell me--I have settled into a routine, here, and while the physical challenges are ubiquitous, mental stimulation and news of good friends are comparatively rare.
Maggie was pleased to receive your greetings, and sends hers to you in return. We have had a certain amount of snow, but nothing unusual for the season. As I doubt that my next missive will reach you in time, let me take this opportunity to wish you very happy holidays.
Sincerely,
Benton Fraser
December 11, 1998
Frase--
Merry Christmas. Or Happy New Year, if this is late.
Ray
December 30, 1998
Dear Ray,
The brevity of your last communication has caused me some concern. Is something troubling you? I hope I have not inadvertently offended you in some way. If I have done so, please tell me what is wrong, that I may endeavor to make it right.
Sincerely,
Benton
January 23, 1999
Dear Frase,
You didn't do anything. The whole holiday season just sucked. There was no one here that I wanted to see. I kept thinking about things that are over and done with. I drank more than I should have, and it didn't do me a damn bit of good. Spare me the lecture, OK?
Ray
February 12, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm relieved to hear that I haven't given offense, but I remain most concerned for your welfare. Are you talking with anyone who might be able to support and advise you about making beneficial changes in your life?
Benton
March 2, 1999
Frase,
Yeah, I'm talking to somebody, but don't give me any credit for it. I fucked up in a bad situation and made it worse, and Welsh sent me to get my head shrunk. He kind of had to. I didn't just hit the scumbag I was shooting AT, I hit a hostage, too. College student. Pretty. 22 years old. She made it OK--my bullet caught her in the shoulder--but that don't make it OK that I shot her. And before you ask, yes, I did have my glasses on. I just didn't get them on fast enough to keep her out of the line of fire.
I've about had it with this job. But I got no good ideas for what I'd do if I quit.
Ray
March 18, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm sorry to hear that you've had such a distressing experience. I won't insult you by offering platitudes about the hazards of policing--you know the risks (and the reasons for taking the risks) as well as I do. I can only say that my thoughts are with you, and I hope that the counseling will provide you with some benefit, unlikely as that may seem to you just now.
Take care,
Benton
April 5, 1999
Frase,
The counseling was a gigantic pain in the ass, but I got one thing out of it--I realized I'm better off quitting the CPD and taking my chances than going on the way I have been. So I'm going to take the GTO south and travel around for awhile, maybe stop by my brother's in Arizona and then see what California looks like. Maybe the driving will give me time enough to figure out what to do next. I'll write to you, I promise, but I don't know where I'll be for you to write back to. I guess you could send your next note care of my brother. Right now, I'm in no mood to talk to anybody, including him, but Mom isn't letting up about the visit idea. It's probably easier just to do it. She wants me to see the Grand Canyon, too. And the redwoods. You ever seen them?
Later,
Ray
P.S. Don't argue about the quitting. I signed the papers yesterday.
April 11, 1999
Frase--
I promised myself I'd write you about what happened as soon as I could, even if it wasn't my turn to write. I know that you're going to be asking about it as soon as you get my last letter, but I just couldn't stand to write about it while I was still in Chicago. While I was still trying to be a cop. Not that things are all that great now that I'm on the road. I never thought I'd be doing any of this. But I guess I am. I bought some paper in the last big town and now I'm pulled off the highway somewhere in Texas with nobody looking at me, and I'm writing this on the top of the GTO, so give me a break about the handwriting, OK? Here goes.
I was in a bank. You remember about me and banks, right? I wasn't on duty, but I was going in to work later so I was carrying my piece. I was there to try to fix a credit problem on an account I'd kind of forgotten about while I was undercover as Vecchio.
So I'm waiting to talk to the right bank person, when all of the sudden there's a guy waving a gun around and yelling NOBODY MOVE OR I'LL SHOOT. I freeze, but the bank's security guard doesn't, and the guy with the gun shoots at him. He misses and a little kid screams and goes down. Now I'm fumbling to get my glasses on and get my gun out while the perp is shooting, because I'm kind of off to the side and I figure it's my best chance.
The perp shoots again and the guard takes it in the chest and goes down and stays down. And by then I've got my glasses on and am lining up the shot as fast as I can but he sees me and oh god I'm not fast enough, he grabs this girl and pulls her in front of him just as I shoot. She screams and I see the blood on her shoulder and he's shooting at me but he misses again and I put the next bullet through his head. He and the girl go down together. He doesn't move, but she's crying and moving on the floor, trying to get away, and she looks back at him and sees what the shot has done to his head, and then she's being sick on the floor.
I look real fast at the kid and the guard. The guard isn't moving. The kid is crying and someone's pressing on his leg like they know First Aid. So I yell for someone to call for ambulances and I go to try to help the girl but when she sees me coming with the gun still in my hand she screams again and oh shit she tries to scramble away from me. Someone else grabs her and tries to calm her down and starts putting pressure on her shoulder and I can see in her eyes that she doesn't want me anywhere near her so I holster the gun and check the guard for a pulse, which there isn't any. And then I get out my cell phone and call the whole thing in: bank robbery gone wrong, four people down--two wounded, two dead.
And I have to stand there until the uniforms and the ambulances come, keeping anybody from leaving. The whole place smells like blood and cordite and puke. And I see how people look at me and that makes me feel even sicker than the blood and the puke smell. The guard is dead and the little boy is down from the perp's bullets. The perp is dead and the girl is down from my bullets. In a goddamn bank. And even though the perp started it, there just isn't enough difference between me and him or between me and Marcus Ellery any more.
But I do my job. I don't even lose my cookies, though it was close. We go through the whole crime scene routine. I go in to the 2-7 and I write my report. Welsh sees me looking sick and he knows what happened and he sends me home and I drink for awhile and manage to sleep a little. But when I get up again I see my gun and shoulder rig sitting where I left them, instead of locked up like they should have been, and oh god I don't even want to touch them, much less put them on.
I keep trying. I talk to the shooting team. I talk to the shrink. I visit the hospital to see the boy who got shot. (He's going to be OK.) I try to visit the girl who I shot but her parents are there and they keep me out and say she doesn't want to see me. I write her an apology but she doesn't write back or call. At work I go out on calls and yeah I'm wearing my gun but now it feels like a bomb is strapped to my body instead of something I got used to years ago. And when I go home at night I have to drink to get to sleep and the dreams aren't good.
And one day I'm out with Huey for some reason and an officer down call comes over the radio and we respond and the perp's trapped in a dead end and shooting at us and Huey knows I'm a better shot than he is and he asks if I can shoot the gun out of his hand and I try but oh god my hand shakes and shakes and I can't even line up the damned shot, much less pull the trigger. And Huey looks at me and says forget it and shoots the perp in the shoulder himself. And I realize then that if I can't even shoot a perp with an officer already down, then I can't back up a partner or a fellow officer and I got no business calling myself a cop any more.
So I quit. Welsh tried to talk me out of it. The shrink tried to talk me out of it. Even Huey tried to talk me out of it. I've heard plenty about understandable reactions and the healing power of time and differences in intent and it could happen to anyone but it doesn't MATTER--I don't want a gun in my hand. I don't want to see that shit-scared look in a girl's eye ever again. I don't want any partner of mine bleeding out because I couldn't make myself shoot fast and straight when it counted. It's over, it's done, I'm not a cop any more. I don't know what the hell I am.
Now you know.
Ray
April 20, 1999
Dear Ray,
I hope this note reaches you successfully at your brother's address as of a year ago. (I assume you would have told me if he had relocated.) I have not seen redwood forests or the Grand Canyon except in photographs--I'll be most interested to hear your reactions to them.
I'm very sorry to hear that you're ending your association with the Chicago Police Department. You've done much fine work there, never doubt it. When the time feels right to you, I also hope you will also tell me more about the events that led you to make this decision. I know you would not have done so without good reasons, but I would like to understand better, so that I may offer you the kind of friendship that will serve you best in this difficult transition.
Meanwhile, I hope that your travels are bringing you peace and insight, and whatever else you choose to seek.
With best wishes for your journey,
Benton
May 6, 1999
Frase,
I got your note that you sent to my brother's--he and his family are all fine. I got to be Uncle Ray for a couple days, which was OK, but a couple days was all I felt up for, so I'm moving on in the morning. Grand Canyon next, then California. I'll have to write to you without an address at least a couple more times, because I got no idea where I'll BE in California. The less said the better about the trip from Chicago to here. You getting any signs of Spring, yet? Big honking cactuses are blooming here. I'll write more in a couple of days.
Ray
P.S. Thanks for not giving me a hard time about quitting. Did you get my letter from Texas, yet, about what happened?
May 10, 1999
Frase,
I'm sitting at a view point out over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Biggest fucking excavation I ever saw in my life. But pretty. It looks just like its pictures, only kind of hazy because of the air pollution. Everybody who heard where I was going had advice about what to do here--where to stand, where to stay, where to hike, where to shop for stuff to take home. One thing they told me was to hike down into the canyon a ways--I did that, just for a few minutes, on the Bright Angel trail, and they were right, it's different when you're below the rim. Quieter. You can't see as much, and maybe that makes you feel a little more.
The other piece of advice I took was to watch sunrise from the rim. Yeah, Not A Morning Person Ray got up to see the sunrise. That's all your fault, Frase--two years ago, I wouldn't have done that. Anyway, it was a cool thing to watch. But there were too many other people doing the same thing--some fucking bunch of Russian tourists spent the whole time laughing and telling each other jokes, like a bunch of clowns in the world's biggest church. I wanted to kick them in the head, but I figured that would make things even worse, so I sat still and kept my mouth shut. You would have been proud of me for that, at least. I know you can't write to me until I give you another address but I wish I knew what you thought about my Texas letter. I hope you don't think I fucked up any worse than I already know I did.
Ray
P.S. Here, have a souvenir T-shirt. I got one for me, too.
May 14, 1999
Frase,
I made it to California OK. I'm parked next to a dinky little stretch of highway that goes through the redwoods--only one lane in each direction. There's a little park here, with some big trees, and a stretch of river with a creek coming down to it through a culvert. Turns out redwoods come in all sizes, which I guess I should have expected, huh? It's pretty here, in a solemn kind of way. Except for the blue jays. They're cussing me out for my tortilla chips. Are they still blue jays if they have black heads? The ones in Illinois didn't look like these.
Hope you're doing all right. I'll send you an address as soon as I got one. I miss your letters. And everything.
Ray
P.S. Any chance you could come to California any time soon? These trees are something you got to see.
May 16, 1999
Frase,
I got an address, at least for a little while--it's on the envelope. I was just getting ready to leave that park in the redwoods where I wrote you my last note, and a guy pulled up with car trouble. He'd bought an old Mustang as a fixer-upper, and didn't really know what he was doing with it, yet. I helped him get it back on the road, and he put me onto a place to stay for awhile.
A guy on a motorcycle came by as we were working on the car, and asked me if I ever worked on bikes. He's got a cycle shop in the same town as Phil--that's the guy with the Mustang. Ron is the guy with the bike shop. I'm going to talk to Ron tomorrow, see if there's a chance of a job. I can't say for sure how long I'll be here, but if you want to try writing, go ahead. I promised Phil I'd help with the alternator, at least, and there is so much wrong with that Mustang that I bet I'll be here long enough to get your next letter.
Ray
June 1, 1999
Dear Ray,
Thank you for sending me your new address so promptly. I'm glad to be able to resume my part of our correspondence. I very much appreciate the letters you sent me while you were traveling, especially your letter from Texas. I am certain that was not an easy letter to write.
Let me say, at once, that I have every confidence that you acted rightly during the incident in the bank. I believe I would have made very similar choices, if I had been in analogous circumstances here in Canada. It is most unfortunate that the perpetrator pulled the young lady into your line of fire, but I believe that you took the best course available to you. If you had not taken the time to put on your glasses, you might have seriously wounded or killed a by-stander. If you had waited longer to shoot, the perpetrator might have killed you before you could prevent him from harming more people. The young lady, herself, might well have been his next victim. I know you would have spared her both the physical and the emotional trauma if you could have done so. Hopefully, in time, she will also come to realise that you acted for the general good, and that you deeply regret that chance caused her to pay a personal price in the endeavor.
That said, is there any other way in which I can be helpful to you during this time?
I was most interested to hear your account of the Grand Canyon. Since you enjoyed it, I would almost certainly do so, as well--particularly if they allow members of the public to visit in winter. I am making a note to investigate that. Thank you for the T-shirt--the weather here is almost warm enough for me to wear it--I have stowed it carefully until then. Do you happen to know what the petroglyphs represent? What T-shirt design did you choose for yourself?
Were the redwood trees that you saw Sequoia gigantea (giant redwood) or Sequoia sempervirens (coast redwood)? I believe that the birds you described might be Steller's jays, rather than blue jays--the black head is typical of the former species. I would be most interested to experience the redwood forest ecosystem, but I am afraid I that my duties will keep me here for the immediate future--we are short-handed, and it would not be well received for me to request the necessary time off so soon after our adventure. However, I would suggest that we keep such a trip in mind as a future possibility.
With all best wishes to you for your current projects,
Benton
June 16, 1999
Frase--
Hey, we got two-way communication, again! Greatness.
Thanks for what you said about the bank. Means a lot, coming from you.
I'm working part-time at Ron's cycle shop. And I'm helping Phil and his son, Tommy, fix up the Mustang. Tommy's about 14, and Phil is trying to use the car to do father-son bonding, which I know from personal experience is not a bad idea except that Phil doesn't know much about cars. What he really wants is to get Tommy to quit smoking the local product and do better in school. Tommy's not too sure about that. I didn't know, when I stopped here, that the local economy is partly based on dope-growing, but I figured out what questions to ask after I overheard one of Ron's hairier customers try to pay him in weed. You'll be happy to know that Ron held out for cash.
The customers are a mixed bunch--hippie bikers, kids who tear around in the woods on dirt-bikes, and some real stuffed-shirt cycle club members. The bikes are a mix, too--the kids mostly ride Japanese bikes; the adults tend toward Harleys. I test-drive the repaired bikes several times a day, so I've given up spiking the hair for now--the helmet just squashes it down again. And I'm letting the beard grow--there are a lot of beards around here. I blend in OK as long as I keep my mouth shut. Which believe it or not I CAN do.
What are you doing, these days? You sure you can't wrangle a visit?
Ray
P.S. Sequoia sempervirens, Phil says.
P.S. #2: Black T-shirt. Lightning hitting the Grand Canyon.
P.S. #3: I got no idea about the petroglyphs.
July 1, 1999
Dear Ray,
Please excuse this hurried note--there have been three murderous assaults in my territory in the last week, all with young female victims. I have a lead on a possible suspect, and must leave immediately to pursue (and hopefully apprehend) him. Congratulations on the job. I will write again when I can.
Benton
July 16, 1999
Frase--
Are you OK? Did you get the perp? Write to me, damn it.
Ray
August 3, 1999
Dear Ray,
We have not yet succeeded in capturing the perpetrator, but we have strong evidence of his identity and new leads regarding his possible location. Unfortunately, two more homicides have been added to his tally since I last wrote you. As a result, I still have very little time to write--this string of incidents must be brought to a close as quickly as possible. I know your good wishes are with us. Take care of yourself,
Benton
August 19, 1999
Frase--
You're making me nervous. Are you out hot-footing it over the tundra, or what? You did take some backup, didn't you? Work is slowing down at the cycle shop--everyone's getting ready for the winter rains, which are not the best for motorcycle riding. Phil says the high school needs a substitute teacher for a few weeks of Auto Shop classes. He works there as a counselor, and is going to try to get me in. I figure I can teach that OK, and supposedly I don't need a credential to substitute. The interview is tomorrow. Maybe I'll hang onto this note until I can tell you how it goes.
Ray
P.S. The interview went OK, but it's not just Auto Shop they need a substitute for--whoever they hire has to teach three shop classes (no problem) but also a Civics class. Of all the boring shit they could have wanted, that has got to be the most boring. I'm thinking about it.
P.S. #2: Write, damn it!
September 6, 1999
Frase--
I took the job. It's only for six weeks or so, until the regular teacher I'm subbing for recovers from his hip replacement. You should see me working the Civics class--I'm going to put a copy of my first-day-of-school speech in this letter for you. I'm even getting used to people calling me Mr. Kowalski. That always used to mean my Dad.
Ray
P.S. Do I have to write Frobisher to find out what's happened to you?
Speech for First Day of Civics, Room 217, 5th Period:
Listen up! This class is Civics, which is a required class for graduation. Anybody who wants to graduate, put your hand up now. OK. Anybody who's just here waiting to turn 18 and quit school, put your hand up now. Not admitting it, huh? Right. Your permanent teacher for this class is Mr. Smith. I'm not him. He's in the hospital getting a hip joint replaced. He'll be back in a few weeks. Meanwhile, I'm filling in for him in this Civics class and three Auto Shop classes. As far as you guys are concerned, my name is Mr. Kowalski.
Anybody here ever seen me before? I didn't think so. You don't know me, I don't know you. I assume some of you are good at schoolwork, even boring schoolwork, and some of you aren't so good, and some of you don't give a damn, but I don't know which ones of you are which. So you all get the same speech as I'm giving to my Auto Shop classes--don't take it personal. Do take it serious. Here are the rules:
Number 1: Do not come to my class stoned, high, drunk, buzzed, lit up or smelling in any way illegal. I got plenty of experience spotting the signs, and if I do spot the signs, you get an automatic F for the day and a trip to the Vice-Principal's office. I have cleared that in advance with the Principal.
Number 2: If you're not interested in learning what I'm teaching, you can sit here and space out as long as you don't make trouble, but I'm grading you on your actual work, so you decide what it's worth to you.
Number 3: If you are interested in learning the class material, good for you. But don't make a parade out of it. If you think you know more than me about something, or if you think you're smarter than me about anything, practice being tactful about it. There's a very simple reason for this rule: out in the real world, some of you are going to be working for bosses who seem pretty stupid. Start learning how to handle that situation now. If you got to show off, be subtle. Do it in a way that makes the other person look as good or better than you. I'll demonstrate that later, because it may be the most valuable thing you get out of this class, even though it's not in the book.
Finally: This class is about U.S. government. The textbook is totally boring, but it's got facts in it that could be important to you in your life. I don't know anybody who's totally happy with how the government runs things, but there's a system. Maybe you want to avoid getting squashed by the system. Maybe you got ideas about how the system could be improved. Maybe you want to leave the country and live somewhere with a different system. In all of those cases, the smart thing to do is to learn enough about the system to accomplish what you want. Otherwise, chances are that the system will mess with your life instead of working for you. Every time we hit end-of-chapter questions in the book, I'll be putting a couple of extra questions on the blackboard, about how what you read affects you and people you know. We'll discuss those questions in class.
If you got extra questions about what's real in the textbook and what's B.S., ask me outside of class and I'll give you my personal opinion. Don't expect me to know much about local politics, though--I'm from Chicago, and I've only lived here since May.
I'll say it again: be legal, be ready either to work or to take bad grades quietly, be smart about how you show off, and think about how this stuff might matter in your life. Any questions? Right. Open to chapter 1 and read the first section silently. Ready? Go.
September 24, 1999
Dear Ray,
I'm sorry for the delay in answering your last two notes. I have not been able to collect my mail personally for some time, and I'm afraid the local postmaster insisted on holding it rather than allowing a colleague to bring it to me. Only today did I succeed in convincing him that I was fully able to deal with my own correspondence, although I believe I could have done so as early as a week ago. My right arm is perfectly functional, after all. And the left is securely pinned and is healing well enough, though I fear some time must pass before I will be able to use it normally.
Thank you for the wonderfully evocative speech. It was most enjoyable to see your interrogation techniques adapted for pedagogical use. How did the Civics students respond to it? Please tell me more about your adventures in education. As you know, recovering from a work injury is a tedious business, so I shall be glad of all the news you can give me.
Benton
October 9, 1999
Damn it, Frase!
What did you get yourself into this time? What happened to your arm? Did that multiple-homicide perp do it? Who's taking care of you? You better not be trying to take care of everything yourself. I'll come up there and cuff your good arm to the bedframe, I swear.
Ray
P.S. Civics discussion today was about legal activism, civil disobedience, and revolutionary law-breaking. Big argument about whether George Washington and Ché Guevara were trying to do the same thing. This gig was supposed to be over, next week, but the regular teacher isn't up to coming back, yet, so it looks like it might go on awhile longer.
October 26, 1999
Really, Ray.
There's no need to take that tone. I am receiving good care--indeed, too much care, as the ladies of the town seem determined to offer attentions that I neither need nor want. As for what happened, suffice to say that I sustained a broken arm while in pursuit of the suspect in the string of homicides. I am happy to report that the injury did not prevent me from apprehending him. Indeed, it was a small price to pay for removing him from general circulation.
BF
November 12, 1999
Frase--
Broken arm, huh? With pins holding it together? And that's all? You better be telling me everything, buddy.
You got any plans for how to spend your time until they'll let you back on active duty? Maybe you could come visit, since they got to cover for you on account of the arm, anyway. I could show you some big trees. We could eat some salmon, watch the fog roll in. My place is big enough to hold us both.
Maybe I shouldn't keep bugging you about this. Letters are better than nothing--it's just that I miss tossing ideas around with you, like we used to do. Especially now that I've got to decide what to do next with my life. I want to hear what you think, and I don't want to have to wait three weeks for the next paragraph. But if you really can't get away, I'll see if I can figure a way to come visit you. If that's OK.
Ray
P.S. Civics discussion today was about exposing corrupt politicians and forcing them out of office. How does Canada handle that? Want to be a guest speaker for my class?
November 28, 1999
Dear Ray,
Actually, visiting you might be a felicitous course of action, at this juncture. The town ladies have been taking things to extremes, and I find it most uncomfortable. And I would be happy to discuss your future options with you, and to address your Civics class. What should I bring along with me, in order to make my visit least troublesome? When would be convenient for me to arrive?
Benton
December 12, 1999
Frase--
Bring clothes for rainy weather. Try to get a flight that lands here in the evening or on a weekend. Then let me know when to meet your plane, and I'll be there.
Ray
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