January Gets Her Gunn

Chapter 4-2

Phil Hunt looked up as January approached. “You handled that punk pretty easily.”

“Yeah, he’s probably an athlete, but he’s no fighter.”

“Come on Farrell, let’s go. We’re through here,” Gunn called.

“I’ll tell you about it at the Chuck Wagon.” She winked at Phil and walked to Peter Six.

In the car, Gunn waited until they had entered traffic north bound on Centennial. “I saw you with a hammer lock on a kid. What happened?”

Jan sighed silently. Oh, oh. Here it comes. “He tried to push me out of the way.”

“He calmed down pretty quick. What did you do?”

“I told him I was going to turn him over my knee and spank him.”

“My God, no! Farrell, that would have been police brutality.”

“So what? I’ve got nothing to lose. You’re going to fix it so I don’t work here much longer. I would at least have the satisfaction of maybe turning a misguided kid out of a bad pattern, before you cut the string.”

“You really believe I would do that?” He sounded surprised, incredulous.

Is he trying to fake me out? “What reason do I have to believe otherwise?”

“I told you your first night I would be hard on you, but I’d be fair. There are some things I don’t do and lying is one of them. You’re doing well above average and that’s the way I’ve reported it. If there had been anything derogatory, you would have been called in to see the Bull.”

“That was before tonight. I ruffled your feathers. I’ve stood up to you and you don’t like it. For twenty nights you’ve pounded my ears with your arrogant, supercilious lectures. But tonight, after the locker room, you’ve been silent. Why waste your breath on someone who’s going to be gone tomorrow? Garnet Ledeux said it right, ‘You’re humbug, Thaddeus Gunn’.” She almost hated to glance at him, to see his expression.

Instead of glaring though, he took off his cap and ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, a frown on his face. “Look, my usual methods aren’t working with you. I really don’t know how to handle you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to put the lesson across without you going into orbit.” He sounded weary, almost aggrieved at being misunderstood.

Jan’s exasperation escaped. “You might try acting like a human being and treating me like an adult. I know I have a lot to learn, so teach me, but motivate me to learn, not to hate you. Every officer you’ve trained respects and admires you, but they don’t want you as a friend. You are just a paid occupational acquaintance, as far as they’re concerned. In psychology, I learned masochism is the other side of the coin of sadism. Do you need to be the outsider, always looking in but never invited? Is that what you want?”

“No, I’m neither a sadist nor masochist in any way. But I know what can happen if your guard is down. You can be killed. If having no friends is the price I have to pay never to see one of my partners killed, then I’m glad to pay it.”

Oh God, so that’s it. He saw a partner killed. She knew she should shut up but she had to ask. “Was that in the Marines?”

“Was what…yeah, drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.” He spoke with no inflection, no emotion, yet the pain came through. Jan felt it to her core.

“Okay. That explains your bitterness about the Corps. For your information, I left the Corps for my reasons as well. I joined because I wanted to free some plank owner for duty. It didn’t happen. I just ended up as a female plank owner, so I got out. Still, I do recognize that what I got out of the Marines was more than what I put in.”

January pulled into the parking lot at the Pit Stop. “It’s lunch time and I’m hungry.”

Gunn nodded and checked them out at the Pit Stop for a Code Seven. When dispatch answered, January turned off the engine. Thirty minutes later, Gunn checked them back on the air as January drove out of the lot. The radio crackled immediately after he hung up the mike.

“Peter Six, Peter Four, Forty-five at Mesquite Tree Mall.”

As January pulled into the Mesquite Mall Parking lot, she saw Peter Four sitting in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot with all lights off. As they approached, she turned off her lights and rolled to a stop with her door not quite opposite the Sergeant’s.

“I hear you manhandled a seventeen-year-old boy down at the Hula Hut tonight, Farrell.”

January nodded. “That’s right, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have to go formal. I ain’t the Inquisition. Tell me what happened.”

She told the whole story, leaving nothing out.

When she finished, Sergeant Wilson chuckled. “Would you have spanked that kid?”

“Yes. I don’t threaten, I promise.”

“You know spanking that kid in public might be construed as police brutality, don’t you? There’d be hell to pay if Rafferty got wind of it.”

“Yes, sir, but at the time I felt I had nothing to lose.”

“Sarge, she thought I was going to get her fired.” January jumped at the sound of Gunn’s voice.

“Why would she think that?”

“Well, we’ve had a misunderstanding or two tonight.”

“Oh.” Wilson looked at the two in the car for a moment. “Just tonight?” He frowned. “Farrell, you think you can handle the unit for a half hour or so?”

“Yes, I can handle it.”

“Okay. Gunn, come on and get in. We need to talk.”

“Sarge, Farrell is just starting her fifth week. I don’t think it’s advisable.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Gunn. Come on, I’m still the shift commander.”

Gunn got out of the car to walk around to the right side of Peter Four. He moved stiffly, with little of his normal grace.

The sergeant turned back to Jan. “I talked to Mr. Griffin. He wants you to know young Leonard got the spanking. He doesn’t hold with disrespect for elders, manhandling women and calling them bitches. Said he wanted you to know he appreciates your taking the kid down a couple of notches. Leonard was All-State left half-back from Harquehala High this past year. He’s good, but it was going to his head. You busted his too-big ego bubble. Good job, Farrell.”

“Thanks, Sarge.” January smiled. Sergeant Wilson nodded, turned on his headlights, and pulled away.

Wow, that’s great. I did okay, I’m not in trouble—yet anyway. January couldn’t contain her grin. Then she sobered up. Whoa, I’m alone. I’m a rookie. What’ll I do now? She looked in the mirror. Peter Four was nowhere in sight. I can’t sit here until the sarge is through with Gunn. I’d better put some miles on, but what if I get a call?

She heard Sergeant Wilson notify dispatch that Gunn was now in Peter Four. That makes it official. Oh, Good Lord! I’m not ready for this!

* * * *

5 Aug 1982: 0317:

“Peter Seven, report of screams at fifteen fifty six Eighth Street. The RP said it sounded like somebody getting killed.”

“Peter Seven, Ten-Four.”

January had the car moving as she picked up the microphone. “Peter Six, Ten-Four.”

“Ten-Four, Peter Six, Seven, Oh Three Seventeen, KTR. Two-Eight-Three.”

Okay, I’m on Fourteenth, no lights or stop signs to Jefferson, which is a through avenue. That’ll put me three blocks east on Eighth. I’ll be there in four or five minutes.

January turned on her emergency lights and activated the siren to work from the horn ring. Getting to the scene as fast and safely as she could engrossed her completely. Fortunately at 3:17 A.M., she had little traffic to contend with.

Perez is the primary officer. I’m just back-up. I’ll take my cues from him. I hope I don’t screw up. I don’t want Perez hurt or the sarge catching hell because of me. Come on, girl, don’t buy any unknown trouble. Just concentrate on getting there.

“Six, Seven, What’s your twenty?”

“Jefferson coming up to ninth.”

“Ten-Four, I’m on eighth and crossing Jefferson. See your lights.”

“Ten-Four, I saw yours. I’m right behind you, Seven.” When she heard two clicks on the radio, she knew Perez had heard her. January turned onto Eighth Street and accelerated. She could see Seven’s lights, two blocks ahead. Then she saw Seven’s brake lights flash as he crossed to the south side of the street. She was a half-block from Peter Seven when she heard the blood-curdling scream.

January picked up her microphone. “Peter Six and Seven Ten-Ninety-Seven.” She pulled in behind Seven, leaving the car before dispatch responded. Another scream sent butterflies into frantic flight in her belly.

The scream came from overhead. January looked up into a tall pecan tree. There among the topmost branches an elderly African American man clung, completely naked. He had climbed to the point where the branches holding him were bending. An African American woman, well past middle age, wearing only a light cotton house coat, pointed a hose with an adjustable nozzle at the treed man with deadly accuracy. She directed the stream of cold water squarely at the man’s buttocks. As January watched, the stream coming from the hose lost its force until only a drop or two fell from the nozzle. Perez had turned off the spigot.

Perez walked back to the woman. “What’s this all about, Mattie?” He winked at January.

“Why Officer Perez, I’se just cooling his motor off.” The woman grinned broadly.

Nodding, Perez looked up into the tree. “Okay, Walter, you can come down now. Be careful, I don’t want to call the coroner ‘cause you fell.” January could see Carlos Perez struggling to keep from laughing. He turned back to Mattie, “Whatta you mean cooling his motor off?”

“That ole man is a fool. He goes up to the Social Club, where all them young chippies are struttin’ around in them miniskirts and stiletto shoes, showing everything they’s got. Ole Walter fergits he’s an ole man. ‘Sides he’s drinkin’ that white wine with lemon juice and telling lies. He comes home late thinkin’ he’s Tarzan. I be sleepin’ and next thing I knows, the drunk ole fool is climbin’ in bed actin’ like a bull.”

January bit her lip to contain her own laughter. Perez held up his hand to stop Mattie.

“Farrell, call in a Code Four before we get every cop in Harquehala County down here.”

January nodded. She returned to her car to make the call. As soon as she got a response from dispatch, she hurried back. She didn’t want to miss a word of Mattie’s tale.

“So I gets my big butcher knife and I tell that ole fool, you touch me again I’ll make a steer outta you.” Mattie looked at January. “He called me some names I ain’t gonna repeat in front of this pretty lady, here. So I tells him, I’se gonna cut his fool tongue out and then I’se gonna make a steer outta him. He runs out side and climbs up in that there tree, where I cain’t get him. I just gets the hose and starts coolin’ his motor off.”

“Okay, Mattie, you stay out here with Officer Farrell. I’ll take Walter inside and get him dressed and then I’ll take him over to Junior’s for the night.” The old man had reached the ground. He stood there shivering, trying to cover himself.

“You don’t have to do that, Officer Perez. He can go on in and go to bed. That cold water done sobered the ole fool and it shriveled him enough, he ain’t gonna get no ideas about bein’ a stud fer at least a week. I ain’t mad at him. He’s jest foolish and them younguns up at the Social Club get him all fired up. He’ll be all right.”