Chapter 1

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

We’ve all had heroes growing up, and I remember mine; never thought I’d end up being one.

Before the last shift of his career began, Detective David Hall stared at his gold shield.

As he took note of the detail work on his badge, his eyes fell on his badge number: 3001. It reminded him that sometimes he was reduced to a mere number, lumped together with fellow officers whenever the LAPD or any police agency faced criticism.

Across from him sat his partner, junior detective Frank Markowitz, who broke the silence with a question. “Can I ask you something Dave?” He asked.

“Go for it, Franky,” Dave said, still captivated by his badge and the long history it held.

“You ever wonder why we wear it on the left?”

“Well, that answer goes back a long way. But there are two reasons. One that’s more recent is that we wear it over the heart to remind us of our pledge to protect. The less recent reason was that hundreds of years ago, knights used their left arm to hold their coat of arms shields. So, in a sense they were protecting their heart with their left which enabled the right arm, usually their dominant one, for wielding their weapon of choice. As you can see, our shields are a bit smaller these days.” He flicked the metal with his finger.

“Can I ask you another question?” the junior detective inquired again.

“Might as well. I got nothing but time,” David said with a soft huff of laughter.

“Are you gonna miss it?”

Are you gonna miss it? David repeated the question in his mind. He had been toying with that same question for months now. It was always: yes and no … yes and no. He loved what he did and felt pride, honor, and a slew of other emotions from his time on the force. But when your time is up, you’ll know it. You can feel it, and his was ticking down to the final seconds. The Doomsday clock as it were, minus the doom. “Yeah, in a way I ’spose so,” he finally said, wrapping up the mental recollections.

“We’re gonna miss you too. You’ve done so much for the department.”

David returned Franky a soft smile. To say that today would be bittersweet was an understatement.

At last, the shift concluded as unceremoniously as his first day on the job. He’d never expected that today of all days there would be the high-profile hostage situation of the decade. Or that the heist of the century would be held in his honor and that on his last tour of duty he would save the day. In all honesty, he’d assumed it would end the way it did: Twelve hours. Punched in. Punched out. The only difference was he left Hollywood station with cake today. It was not like the movies.

Thirty-two years served and now he was done. His life hadn’t always been so bland.

He’d been given the chance to serve before when he was younger. When the country needed him – or rather … needed bodies. He’d lied about his age, joined young, and shipped off to Vietnam near the tail end of the conflict. It was a nasty place, and he hadn’t seen such horrors in a long, long time.

When his service overseas was done, he chose to go back home and began a profession in lumberjacking in northern California. But within two years, the very institution that needed him for war decided they didn’t need him for cutting trees.

The federal government came in with a heavy hand and ended his career, shutting down the businesses that relied on logging. Effectively shutting him down.

Disarmed and stripped of his livelihood, David found solace and a steady paycheck by rearming himself when he joined the LAPD, a path that lead him to this moment.

But today, in the here and now the sun was dropping behind low clouds, and the sky was painted purple, blue, and orange from the brush of the sun’s light as he headed out to his Bronco.

The drive seemed to take an eternity, but it could have lasted forever for all David cared. The sun was setting, and it seemed as if it might be setting on the final act of his life as well. The last chapter of a book ending and closing forever. He let out a heavy sigh as he took in the beautiful skyscape; he had spent so much time thinking about his last days, he hadn’t given much time to consider what was next. He had yet to nail down a hobby to bide his time and occupy his spirit and interests; perhaps give him purpose and maybe lengthen his life. He feared that boredom and stagnation of a mundane routine would do nothing but invite death’s unwelcome presence to his door.

As he parked by the curb in front of his house, it appeared to be the end of any normal day. It was Tuesday. Trash day. He exited his Bronco, grabbed the cans, and wheeled them up the driveway.

His keys rattled as he unclipped them from his belt and unlocked the front door. It had barely opened to the slightest degree when he was assaulted by an uproarious, “Surprise!” Echoes of jubilant voices filled the living room in unison by what looked to be forty or more people occupying the cramped space. He heard kazoos ringing out and colorful streamers fired from all directions.

His wife emerged from the center of the field of bodies, closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him, giving him a kiss on his cheek. “Thank God I’m not twenty years older, you could have given me a heart attack, Connie!” David said, laughing and a bit flushed with embarrassment. In his absentminded ruminations, he had not detected several easily recognizable vehicles on the street. He should have known his friends were all here. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking that maybe it had been a good time to retire. Perhaps he had lost his edge after all.

( In the Hunt by Timothy Dalton. Available on Amazon)