What’s in a name?

Oscar was sitting on her front porch. A storm was rolling in. The wind was blowing hot as heat lightning streaked across the sky.

She handed him a cold glass of water. “Thanks sweetheart.”

“A penny for your thoughts,” she asked sitting with him.

“I really wasn’t thinking about anything.”

“You know, I have been told that. When men stare out into space, there really isn’t anything on their minds.”

He smiled, “you are so beautiful.” She blushed. “Are you blushing Miss Morrison?”

“Y, yes Mr. Patterson, I am. I would like to ask you something. Don’t answer me now. I want you to think about it and give me an answer later.”

“Okay.” He asked confused.

“I want you to assume that we do get married. Is it super important that I take your last name?”

He raised an eyebrow, “it’s traditional.”

“I know that.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to take my last name?”

“It has nothing to do with you. It’s not a sign of disrespect. I have lived with my last name for fifty years. The good things and the bad things are all associated with me. I don’t want to assume an alias, which is what I would be doing if I changed my name.” He watched her. He kinda felt uncomfortable but said nothing. Then she added, “how would you feel if I asked you to change your last name?”

He raised an eyebrow again, “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Women are asked to become a whole new person. Assume a whole new identity. Why can’t the man change?”

He took a drink of his water. “We’ve kinda talked about this but how do you feel about children?”

“I’m too old at this point in my life to start popping out babies. I’m too old to chase them, and give them the attention they need. I would be 70 by the time they were 20. It’s not fair to me or the child.”

“I’m too jacked up to be a father.”

“I fail to see how you’re jacked up.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. He rolled his eyes, “right.”

“No, not right. Okay, so you have panic attacks. Who among us doesn’t have an issue that we need to work on?”

“What if I become crazy like my mother? That is a huge concern of mine. I can’t tell you the number of hours that I have spent worrying about it. My mom has a brother; the only one of her family that I claim. We have spent hours talking about her growing up.” Oscar got up and stood at the end of the porch with his back to Esther.

“And?”

“He says that we were nothing alike. He said that she was always different but he couldn’t tell me how. He had no reference to go by.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Paranoid schizophrenia usually develops in a person before they turn thirty. How old was your mother?”

He turned looking at Esther. “Fifty-ish.”

“Did anything stressful happen in her life that would trigger it? Some doctors say that people can manage the illness to the point of not even knowing that something is wrong until a stressful occurrence happens to trigger an episode.”

Oscar came back and sat down, “she was having an affair. Ole boy decided that he didn’t want to leave his wife.”

“How did you handle that?”

“You are the only person I’ve ever told. I’m sure it’s one of the reason’s I’ve been so reluctant to start a relationship. If my mother is capable of having an affair and telling me about it, then who am I? She even asked me to buy condoms for her little fling.”

Esther looked confused, “do you know if she ever told your brother?”

“My brother doesn’t know half of what went on or half of what we went through.”

“Why was he sheltered? When did this obsession start with your brother?”

“He’s always been precious, from the day he was born; there was a difference in the way we were raised. But the obsession, as it were, started when he moved in with her.”

He took a deep breath. “Mom called me one morning asking me for help. I didn’t know how to help her. Honestly, I didn’t have a clue. She had already been in an institution twice. The only thing I knew to do was to take her to a different place. Maybe get a different opinion.  It didn’t help. The only thing I had left was to see if she would move in with my brother and his family. She, at that point, couldn’t live on her own. She wasn’t eating right. She wasn’t sleeping right. It was a mess. But she wouldn’t leave her house. They decided to move in with her. That’s been about 15 years now.” He paused for a moment. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Metal illness is a cruel thing. You know.” She whimpered. “I had never really thought about it until now. I told you it wasn’t in me to get swept away with love. I think I understand why. Dad spent two years grieving over mom. He was so into her that he couldn’t look past it to see me. I was always fed and clean. But we never left the house. He never read to me or held me. The only time I went places was when gram and pap came over.” She stopped thinking for a moment. “We spend way too much time in this country worrying about what phone we have or what comic book to make into the next big movie. We need to spend a whole lot more time on removing the stigma from mental illness. People with a mental illness can’t help it no more than a baby who is born addicted to drugs can help it.”

“Tell me about it. In this town, people look at you in one of two ways, with deep sympathy or they look at you sideways to see what crazy you’re hiding.”

She smiled really big, “I know what crazy you’re hiding.” He looked at her in shock. She giggled, “you’re crazy in love with me.”

“I’m not hiding that.” He returned her smile. At that moment, a large clap of thunder shook the house. The world was growing dark around them.

“Let’s make each other a promise.”

“Okay.”

“We will work on our issues together. That we will try to always understand, if we can’t understand, at least listen to each other.”

He smiled, “I like that plan.”

Winter Season

Explain

“Hi,” he smiled. It was a forced smile she could tell. Her voice was irritated from crying so much. He handed her a bottle of water, hot but wet. After the fire was burning, he came over and sat down in front of her. “So this was what all the secrecy was about?”

When she tried to talk, it came out as a croak. After taking another drink of water, she tried again. “I was under a gag order until the investigation was over.” She didn’t look up from the bottle. “I was doing such a great job burying this investigation with moving and hanging out with you that when Bell asked me what I did, it all came flooding back. Hence, the nightmares and I say nightmares because you are not always with me.” She smiled a sad sorry smile.

“I understand but I must say I’m a little hurt.”

“I know. I’m sooo sorry.”

“Can you talk about it now?”

“I suppose. I guess this letter is closure?”

He held her hands, “do you want to?”

“I guess I need to. I haven’t told anyone other than the investigators.” She took a deep breath. “Lt. Yerki wasn’t my partner and why he went with me on that day, I still don’t know. I have ran a million scenarios in my mind as to why he was there. I was doing traffic patrol on that particular day and he was working on some drug case but until that day our paths never crossed. They really had no reason to. I assumed I was being tested. So everything I did that day was to the letter. Text book.” She took another drink of water.

“I pulled over a car for speeding. We both go out, my job was to approach the driver, as my backup, his job was to cover any passengers. Instead, he stood against the hood of our car. Which struck me as odd but he was the lieutenant. I hesitated for a moment because of his odd behavior then continued to approach the driver. The whole time thinking what a cocky bastard he was. Before I made it to the driver’s door, the car slammed backwards into Lt. Yerki, crushing his legs. As I reached for my gun, I was shot six times. The car pulled forward and as Yerki began to fall, it slammed backwards again crushing him. Then sped away.

“My vest absorbed three of the shots and three made it through. But internal affairs felt that because of the nature of the shots that made it through my vest, and the deliberate attack on Lt. Yerki, that I must have known or was a conspirator in the attack.”

They sat there in silence for a long time. Esther unable to speak and Oscar didn’t know what to say. He finally got up and returned with more wood for the fire.

She continued, “the night I had the nightmare at your house, I saw the fear in your eyes when I came ‘round.” She shook her head, “I can’t tell you how,” she fought back tears, “horrifying it was to watch someone get killed and be useless. Totally useless. I have yet to encounter a sound like that of his legs being crushed. I was driving an older car, built nothing like some of todays cheap crap.” She paused for a moment. “I honestly thought that would be the end of it. He could have lived after that. But as I was being shot, I watched in slow motion the car slam backwards again. From the position I was in it looked like the cars bumper struck him right here;” she put her hand on her chest just below her neck. “His head snapped forward and it sounded like someone breaking a twig.” She mindlessly made that motion with her hand. “Then his head slammed backwards so hard it made an indention in the hood of the car. That’s when the screaming stopped. The next thing I knew I woke up in the hospital.”

“But with the letter, it’s all over with now? Right?”

“I assume that’s the case. I pray.”

“With you being investigated, why did they let you move? I figured you would have to stay in New York.”

“I had to sign 9 million papers. Once a week I have to call in. Can’t turn the location servers off on my phone. Any disruption in service had to have an asap explanation. Moving had its strings.” She snickered. “I almost had to wear an ankle monitor.”

He looked as if he could throw up. “Are you going back?”

The flames of the fire reflected in her eyes as she looked at him. “No.”

A wave of relief washed over him.

Winter Season

The Letter

Oscar hadn’t seen Esther all week. He was afraid he had said or did something wrong. It wasn’t beyond the realm of impossibility. He wasn’t very good at this love stuff.

Though, learning with her was fun. They had survived testing and the end of the school year together. He wanted her to be in his arms right now.

None of his phone calls had been returned. The thought of going and knocking on her door wasn’t pleasant at the moment. He was hoping that they could spend the better part of the summer at the lake. But the summer wasn’t shaping up to be so good.

He looked out the window at the haze created by the hot June sun. Hotter than normal for this time of year. As he was lost in thought, her jeep sped away in the direction of the lake. It might not be the smartest thing he ever did, but he followed her. When he found her, she was sitting on the ground, leaning up against a tree staring out over the water. As he got closer, he could tell that she was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Ess, what’s wrong?” Her face was ghastly pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes were blood shot; he assumed from crying. He sat down beside her, holding her tight. As he did, she started sobbing. “Please talk to me.” He implored. “Dear God, please talk to me.”

After what seemed like an hour, she got control of herself. “I’m a coward.” She choked back more tears and handed him an envelope from her back pocket. “I can’t read it.”

He stared at her with great concern, “do you want me to read it for you?”

She sniffed, “please. I can’t.” Tears rolled down her face.

He took a deep breath as he started to open it. She grabbed it from his hands, throwing it on the ground. “What if it’s bad?”

He caressed her face, “what if it’s good?”

He picked it up to start again. It was a very official letter from the New York City police department’s office of internal affairs. Their name and contact information was at the top of the letter. “This letter is dated for last Friday. Ess you’ve had this letter a week?”

“I can’t,” she sobbed. “I’m a coward. If it’s bad,” she snubbed, “I can’t.”

He took a deep breath, “It reads as follows. ‘Dear Miss Morrison, In regards to the Department of Internal Affairs investigation into the wrongful death of Lt. Mark Yerki. This department, through an exhaustive investigation has declared you not responsible for the death of Lt. Yerki.”

As of the date of this letter, if you desire, you have been reinstated as Sargent with all the rights and privileges there too. Please contact the Chief of Police if you are interested in this position.

Sincerely,

Jack Wallins, Department Head

Internal Affairs

CC: Chief of Police

      Mayor

      Mr. Donavan McMillion

She fell into him sobbing. He had no idea what to say. All he knew to do was hold her.

The sound of crickets and frogs woke her from her sleep. After taking a deep breath, she remembered she was at the lake. Her clothes were damp from being outside after the dew had fallen. Her face was sore and her eyes burnt. She jumped at the sound of a match being lit. Oscar was building a fire.

Winter Season

Jealous Dance

When she came back, Oscar smiled, “where have you been?”

She smiled, “around.” Soldier boy caught her eye. “Who’s that young man?” He was walking over to a young woman. Esther assumed it was the female he was ready to fight over.

“Douglas Powell. His parents are a mess. He’s joined the Marines and is scheduled to start basic training next month. I’m very proud of him.”

The female that he was talking too went to smack him but he caught her hand. Oscar moved but Esther held him back. Douglas let go of her arm and walked away. The other teen came in and walked over to her. “What about him?”

“Simon Greene, he’s a punk.”

“I can see that.”

They stood there for a moment watching everyone.

Douglas walked over to them. “Excuse me, would it be inappropriate of me to ask you for a dance? I’ve asked the D.J. to play a special song. I would be honored if you’d dance with me. Do you waltz?”

She smiled as Lady Lay Down started playing.

“There are no rules saying you can’t dance.” Oscar smiled.

“Okay Soldier Boy.”

Esther was amazed at the manners that Douglas had. And it was a direct insult to this girl. The other teen and the girl started dancing. Douglas was an amazing dancer.  At the end of the song, he bowed to Esther, she curtsied. The entire gym erupted with applause.  

When she sat down, Oscar leaned over to her, “what was that about?”

“Those two were about to come to blows outside over her and Soldier Boy took the high road.”

He smiled. “Always the cop, aren’t you?”

“I guess old habits die hard.”

Psy’s Gangnam Style started playing. Everyone even the staff got on the floor. Esther was laughing so hard she started crying. “Oh this is great.” Everyone was acting stupid.

“Can you do this dance?”

“Of course I can. I haven’t been living under a rock.” She teased.

“In that dress?” Oscar raised an eyebrow.

“Shall we dance?”

“I can’t do that.”

“I’ll teach you.” He laid his jacket over the back of his chair. “The best way to explain it is when you were a little kid and you road a stick horse.” She did the dance showing him what she meant. He tried. “See not hard. Then you just mix it up. Put your hands on your hips mostly; wave your hands in the air. That’s all there is too it.”

“Ichabod Crane riding a wooden horse,” he laughed. But Esther had been right about two things; she could do this dance in that dress and he could do this dance. They both collapsed in their chairs, panting. He kissed her hand.

She leaned over to him, whispering in his ear “you are one of the few men that look sexy in a bow tie.”

He grinned a big grin.

It was 1:00 in the morning when the D.J. made his last song call. It was Treasure by Burno Mars. And of course they had to dance.

They made it home around 3:00, to her house. She kicked her shoes off with a smile. “That was great. Thank you.” His cheek was greeted with a soft kiss.

“You are welcome my love. If I may ask, why do your cop friends call you trick pony?”

She winked teasing, “hmm not about sex.”

Winter Season