A Cop’s Tale

It is a lazy Sunday afternoon. Normally I’d stand from my chair to prepare to be out and about drinking with friends to savor the last few hours of the weekend. Then I remember, I’m retired. I am jolted back to reality by the rusty police badge I’m holding.

“The kids are here, dear.” My wife signals me on the arrival of my grandkids. A rush of footstep echoes from the halls of my house and stopped beside me.

“How you doin’ gramps!” Tony, the youngest, asks as he jumps onto my lap.

“It’s summer vacation! We’ll be here all month! I wonder what to do first…” Carol, the eldest, ponders as she follows suit.

As Tony lunges to my lap, I dropped my memento onto the hardwood floor.

“Hey what’s that grandpa?” Carol asks.

“It’s the last memento of my time as a police officer, kid.” I answered.

“Wow, you were a cop!? Mom never told us that. She only mentioned that you like to point your gun at strangers.”

“Yeah, that’s about 80% of the job.” I snickered.

“So, what’s the other 20% like? What’s the best part of being a cop!?” Tony darts his puppy eyes of curiosity at me. Suddenly, I am now the center of attention of my grandkids. Normally, they’d be playing by now.

“Hmm, just doing paperwork for the most part. The town I was sent to was pretty quiet.”

“Aw, c’mon Grandpa. There’s gotta be at least one crime you solved which was pretty exciting.”

“Well let’s see”, I racked my brain for past experiences that I can still recall. Fortunately, I didn’t have to dig deep. There was an incident back in the day which carved a hole into my heart, not just as a cop, but as a person.

The town I was sent to was pretty quiet for the most part of the year. Locals were respectful and disciplined. Crime was also nonexistent. So you can only imagine how much the town got shaken when it awoke one day to the sounds of a bank robbery.

The only bank in town had little to no security due to the town’s peaceful nature. So when the robber presented himself, the guards were only armed with bats that were no match to a loaded gun. Everyone was brought to their knees at the sight of his gun, in a town that has not heard gunshots in decades. Once the loot was taken, the lone robber bolted through the door. Immediately, the clerks called us to the scene.

Once we arrived, the bank was pretty much ransacked inside. Crying citizens were still inside, confused over the events.  As my team searched for any possible clues, however, I found exactly what I was looking for. And I knew just the person responsible for the robbery.

I snuck out of the scene and made an excuse to my team that I still had paperwork to finish. I took the commute to the spot where I knew he’d be. An hour later, I arrived to find him standing beside the bridge connecting our town to the next. As I approached, however, I saw that he was only a few steps away from the edge.

“You know, you’re the only Smiths fan in town, right?” I asked him from behind. He did not respond.

“You really shouldn’t bring your favorite album to the scene of your crime.”

“I had to. I was nervous. It made me calm.” He muttered.

“So why’d you do it? If you need money, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ask who?!” He shouted. “My deadbeat dad? My malnourished mom? My family’s a financial wreck, so I have no chances of going to college. So I thought I could pull off this heist with a replica gun, but I failed in that too.“ He said through tears.

“The money’s under my bed. It’s fine. Just let me jump so that for the last bit of my life I wouldn’t feel shameful.” He finally said before raising one foot forward.

“You know, the world is not as terrible as you think. It’s not over for you. Sure, you’re gonna do time for what you did today, but it’s just a few years. Prison is not as hellish as others paint it. You’d probably be alone in your cell since barely anyone gets jailed here.” I stated as I tried to utter as much encouraging words as I can.

“A room all to yourself, you can read, make art, anything. And you can even meet others like you. You can get through this, please don’t do this.”

He stood there motionless. The scene was tense. After what seemed like forever, he stepped backward, and I finally managed to breathe.

“I hate you for this.” He muttered as he finally faced me.

“I hate you too, kid.”

______________________________________________________________________

“That was exciting? Where were the guns? And the mafia? And the intense chase through town?” My disappointed grandkids shouted at me after I finished my story.

“Yeah, those happened too. But those, to me, were boring.”

“And why’s that?” Tony asked.

“That incident made me realize that crime is not black and white. That behind the masks of the bad guys are human beings that have motivations for everything they do. And being a cop is not just about chasing the criminals. For the most part, we must strive to save the individual instead of condemning them for their actions.”

“Hmm, okay.” They seemed dissatisfied with my explanation. Not that I can blame them of course. Throughout my years in the force, I have seen the many facets of humanity. But it is stories like the one I shared, where I go beyond the task of seeing and begin to understand.