Most Saturday mornings, Dad and I would sit in the truck outside the gym – the dojo – and wait while Jessie took her karate lessons. With a pop and a coffee, we’d talk about politics or other big things. I was thinking about those old photos in the album. One in particular had stuck in my head.
It was a shot of Dad and a couple of his friends. He was in uniform, leaning against his patrol car, listening to one of the others. It was the look on his face that wouldn’t leave me. It showed no stress, no worry, and no sadness.
“Dad, do you every miss being on patrol?”
He studied me. “Why do you ask?”
“You seemed happier then.”
He looked at me for a long time before answering. “I really enjoyed it when I was with the Sherriff’s Department. When I was a deputy I wrestled drunks to the floor three nights a week.”
“So you saw the evil side of people.”
“Cory, the vast majority of life isn’t some cosmic struggle between good and evil, like you see in the movies. Mostly it’s just people whose main problem is how they deal with problems. Most people are struggling, and some are just less well equipped, so they make poor choices. I never blamed them, but it was my job to deal with the behavior.”
“But all that stuff, it made you happy?”
“Yeah, actually. I was good at it. My favorite part was helping folks, and I miss working with people face-to-face.”
“Then why did you quit?”
He winced.
“Look, Son, what you do for a living isn’t who you’re as a person. Before everything else, I’m your father, and you already lost Mom. I need to do something less risky.”
He paused.
“I think you’re right, though. I’m not as happy as I used to be, but I don’t think it’s the job. I know how you miss your Mom; I miss your mother, too.” He inhaled slowly. “But I miss my wife more than I can say.”
I thought of how he had made that distinction so savagely before, how the intensity still seemed to radiate from him.
“Losing her made me so sad that it changed how my brain works. That’s why I have to take medication. It helps, but no, I’ve never been quite the same. Truth is that the county wouldn’t take me back now anyway.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay, Son. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Yes, I had, and I was too scared to tell him. It wasn’t just my carelessness or even my choice to leave Mom behind, but the fact that I’d kept it from him all this time... I was a liar and a coward. I knew how Dad would feel about that.
Jessie walked out and I slid over to make room for her.
“Hi, Bug. How did it go?”
“A blast, as always. It makes me feel superhuman. I wish I could keep that feeling inside me all week.”
Dad put the truck into gear and we clattered down the potholed street. I accidently caught Jessie’s glance and quickly looked away.
“Well, kids... as the Judge says, I have good news and bad news this morning. I talked to him last night, and he’s been looking forward to you visiting – for the whole summer this time.”
Jessie grinned.
“But the weather has been bad there – lots of dust and smoke, and they’re predicting a really bad pollen problem this summer.”
“That’s okay, Daddy, we can...” she glanced at me. “Oh.”
“So I can’t go?”
“I’m sorry, Son. At least not right away – it’ll depend on conditions.”