Soft Shoes

A Sweet Ending, Fiction by Riley

Some people just won't talk to you, and of course they're the ones you absolutely must talk to if you're looking to understand. This was one of those guys, tall and slim, wearing a good suit and a hawk's face scarred by acne. He smiled pleasantly enough, but I could see it wasn't his normal smile. This one would smile after shooting you, watching you slide down the wall leaving a red streak to the base boards.

I was a fat cop, Detective 2 out of the uptown precinct working on my third cheating wife before retiring to Florida. We sat within the green-walled interrogation room with the ceiling fan whacking overhead, roiling the 85 degree air around. 

"You don't seem to sweat," I said, mopping my brow with an off-white handkerchief. 

"I ain't got nothing to sweat over, officer," he said.

"You shoved a walking stick through the front wheel of a cop's bike, causing her to scrub her beak loose, and what, we don't resent that?  We let it slide?" I asked him.

"I would, were I in your shoes. I'd be so embarrassed to be associated with such police-things I'd put me on a bus to Boise just to flush the shame. Besides, police work is risky," he had a point. 

"Why did you do it?" He slid down in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching, and again with the smile. "She was riding too fast, and on a sidewalk to boot! I felt endangered, and not just me. The sidewalk was crowded. Just say I made a citizen's arrest."

"OK asshole, let's just take a stroll." That made him flinch a bit, but he brought up the smile again and stood. "Where we off to?" 

I took his elbow and steered him through the door and towards the entrance.  A high vibration hummed through my hand. "The scene of the crime, that's where."

We left the station down the steps and strolled off along the sidewalk, I let his elbow loose and we had our hands in our pockets, two pals taking a stroll. 

 After a block or so he looked over. "So what's up?" 

 I faced him and opened my jacket "see the Glock?" He nodded. 

"Grab it and crack me in the head with it, then get on that bus to Boise. I can't even remember why I became a cop in the first place, and it sucks to be one lately." 

He smiled and nodded "I won't shoot you."

I came to seeing red, blood in my eyes, mine. Some citizen knelt over me. "Did you see where he went?" The citizen said he hadn't. I keyed my radio and reported myself down. A few lies to LeShawnna the affirmative hire Loot and I was off down retirement lane, a little beat up from my heroics behind the badge, but free, Lord. Free at last. And Portland, Portland can kiss my ass.

(c) Riley, Nov 4 18