Captain Edwards had not slept well. He had set his coffee to brew at five am, but he had been up since three thirty. He slipped on his silk robe, and headed downstairs.
The colorful smell of coffee brewing premeated the kitchen. Shane glanced out the front window.
He did not see anyone from the media staking out his house so he slipped out the front door to walk the end of the driveway to pick up his two morning papers. After closing the front door he plopped his newspapers down in their usual spot on the table. He walked into the kitchen to pour some coffee. After sitting down at the table he noticed his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Shane decided he would read Nadia Titla’s, ‘You Are On Indian Land’ newspaper first.
He was nervous, and rightfully so. Shane knew she was pissed over the latest ruling of the
Jesse Coyote brutality nonsense.
‘He should have complied,’
Shane thought smiling.
As he opened the paper
his smugness vanished faster
than the media could vilify a
victim of police brutality.
It was if he had gone into
a trance. His face had a blank
stare, surely his eyes were
playing tricks on him. He looked again. “Oh my….” Shane said in a whisper. It was him. Officer Bob was splashed all over the front page. The picture was of Bob, lip locked with the preacher man’s son. The blonde haired, blue eyed boy, did he read that right? Seventeen years old? The caption below the picture read: ‘The beauty and the beast; Antelope Springs finest.’ Captain Shane was shaking with rage. He stood gingerly, and walked over slowly to pick up his cell phone off the kitchen counter. The phone rang several times as Shane stood just waiting with anticipation for Bob to pick up. The phone rang loudly in the small travel trailer. The ringing startled Bob. It rarely rang this early in the morning. Bob sat up grumbling half asleep. He reached for his cell phone off his cheesy looking night stand. “What?” Bob asked defiantly.
“Bob this is Shane. You have to listen to me. You have to get up, right this minute, do you hear me?” Shane said, with panic in his voice. The tone of fear made Bob sit up. He turned on his lamp. “What the hell is the matter with you?” Bob could hear Shane breathing heavily. “Bob listen to me. Run outside and get your newspapers now. Do you hear me?” Shane’s voice was shrilly now. “Hold on” Bob said, swinging his stumpy legs onto the linoleum floor. He walked outside barefoot cursing all the way to the mailbox and back. After slamming the door, Bob sat on his couch. Bob cradled his cell phone to his ear as he slid the newspaper from its plastic rain cover. He opened up his can of worms, and inhaled deeply with his eyes. “How in the hell..?” Bob’s eyes were practically bulging from their sockets. “How could you, you bastard,” Shane screamed from the receiver of Bob’s phone. “Uh, Shane, I’m sorry, damn.
What are we going to do now?”
Bob sat there rubbing the stubble of his unshaven face, as an uneasy silence began to grow.
Finally Shane said, “We?” came the hollow reply. His words echoed in Bob’s ears. “Let’s look at the front page again shall we?” A long pause ensued yet again. “Bob, I don’t see any, ‘we’ on the cover of my paper,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “Shane listen to me. You need to calm down okay?” It was Bob’s turn to feel queasy now. “Calm down? You want to hear calm Bob? Are you listening Bob?” Bob involuntarily shook his head in the affirmative. “Bob, can you hear me now?” Bob remained quiet for a moment, and was about to speak when Shane slammed the phone down hard in his ears. The day of reckoning had arrived.
The phones in City Hall rung incessantly. Antelope Springs was abuzz with accusation and innuendo. Captain Edwards had just exited the city council chambers after receiving a group tongue lashing from the city council members.
He stood in front of the elevator, waiting to ascend to the Mayor’s office. He knew he was going to be hung out to dry in the media; and then promptly fired. Local law enforcement emanated a buzz, like bees in and around the entrance of their hive. All around town people were flocking together, newspapers in hand. The media began to appear, like flies on a dead cat. At first only one news van. Then another. Before you knew it, their was a grip of trailers, satellite dishes, and people swarming everywhere. They searched out
the hickiest, crackerist, countrified folk they could find. One thing about the media, if they smelled blood in the water, one of their own would do just fine. Officer Bob had scrambled to get up and out of the trailer park before all his nosy neighbors woke up. Officer Bob took the long way to work. Meanwhile, the Pastor’s son was in seclusion in Malibu, California. The Pastor had to reluctantly meet with the various news outlets from around the country. The sorrowful Pastor was scheduled to meet with the Mayor in private after the press conference. After that he would in all likelihood be meeting in strategy with his team of lawyers. It was expected that he would be releasing a statement soon. The second wave had hit, scattering the participants. Tomorrow the third wave would come, as Nadia found herself ebbing ever closer to the Sheriff, who had now found himself in the midst of a storm of his own making.
This time tomorrow
out to sea.