More Than Infinity

Back To School

"I'm already dressed up, Dad. Why can't I go?"

I understand why my Dad is paranoid, being tied up and witnessing a murder and everything, but I really need to get to the museum. The only thing stopping me is my Dad blocking the front door.

"You already know why, Mel."

"I'm just going to... a friends house. I'll be back in like forty minutes," I lie.

He hesitates.

"Alright, you can go," he concedes, opening the door for me.

"Thank you. I'll be back soon, I promise."

That was easy, as expected. I instantly feel bad, because he truly just wanted to avoid another argument. I took advantage of that. But this is more important than his feelings, unfortunately.

...

Standing yards away from the  Museum of Innovative Art should feel like being in one of those movie scene. The SWAT team, cops, and frantic, floating helicopters, you name it, should all be here. All because there are people being held hostage inside, with their lives possibly in danger. But it does not feel like that. The streets are desolate and lifeless. I am the only living soul out here. It is strange, but that is the reality of what I see. So damn weird...

As I begin to approach the entrance, the discomforting silence ends abruptly. Police sirens from behind me grow louder. I sigh dramatically and slowly turn around. When the police car is near, the sirens are turned off.

"Is there an issue?" I immediately ask. "Or are you here just to hassle me, only to not arrest me. You know, since none of you seem to be able to make an arrest for the case you let go cold. An unsuspecting victim of the crime being arrested sure would bring you some attention. Maybe a few headlines, if you get lucky."

My rambling is halted as the passenger door is opened.

I recognize who they are instantly.

My good pal, Officer Kane Burnett. By good pal, I mean we hate each other. A lot.

When it comes to cops bothering me all day, every day, he is the absolute worst of them all. He is always trying to start something with me, because there seems to be an agenda. Something hidden within the police department, that I cannot be bothered to care about. Right now seems to be one of those times.

"This isn't how you properly arrest someone. Just in case you didn't know, Officer," I say teasingly.

"Because you are not under arrest. Get your ass in here so I can explain before I actually do arrest you," he threatens, with his grating, thick Jersey accent. Wish he would just go back to Jersey instead of terrorizing St. Paul with that irritating voice of his.

"Pushy much?"

I get into the police car. It actually seems to have been taken care of very well. The windows are clean.

There is nothing on the dashboard.

There are no crumbs on the seats, and there aren't any old fast food bags lying around from what I can see.