Absaroaka

(Upon realising that all my cop stories exist in the same world, and might as well originate in the same small town)




These stories begin, as many do, with an outsider arriving in a small town, and not understanding how things are done there. This outsider was a young man with a bright smile and glitter on his face, handing out flyers for an event the next county over. The way that things were done there was that a big man, drunk, angry, grabbed him and knocked him to the curb.

A crowd gathered, but not much attempt was made to pull the angry man off of him. That was, after all, the way that things were done. When the angry man pulled a knife the sheriff showed up, and the deputies pulled the big man away into the station in cuffs.

These are not stories about the sheriff, about the angry man, or even about the newcomer. These are stories about three boys in the crowd, and what they saw. None of them stood near each other, they weren’t friends, just boys of around the same age who watched the violence. Two of the boys stood closer than the third, and watched the sheriff and his men.

The first boy saw broad brimmed hats and shiny badges, saw strong hands holding the crowd at bay, taking the bad man away, stopping anyone from getting hurt. That could be me, the boy thought, If I play my cards right, I could be just like them.

The second boy saw the knife on the pavement, the big man in being handcuffed, saw the mad hatred in his eyes, and the violence he had caused. That could be me, he thought, If I took a certain path, I could become that.

The third boy saw the ambulance pulling to the curb, EMTs with neat uniforms and worried expressions, administering bandages and cold compresses. That could be me, the boy thought, If I worked hard enough, I could do that too.

Then, as one, the three boys of around the same age, who did not know each other and were not friends, looked to the young man, the outsider, being helped near the ambulance. He had glitter on his blackened eye and lipstick smudged with the blood on his teeth.

That could be me, the three boys thought in unison. If I am not very, very, careful, I could end up just like him.