SHIFT EXCHANGE

Chapter 6

Jake stood back and watched his deputy talk to the woman. Wilson was a good man, but he was green and needed to learn his rhythm. Especially with people like the woman he was talking to now.

She was in her late 50's, but looked older. Time had not been kind to her. She wore a long, dirty gray t-shirt marked here and there with splotches and stains of unknown origin. Her short, iron gray hair stuck out from her head in all directions. Spindly legs stuck out from the bottom of her shirt clad in dirty purple leggings and wrapped tightly around the base of a wooden acoustic guitar. She'd locked her grimy, clawed nails around the neck of the instrument.

"You'll pry it from my cold, dead hands!" The woman, Enid, screamed. A spray of spittle flew into the air with the force of her exclamation. She bared her teeth at Wilson and the EMT's who stood in the corner of the room watching from a safe distance.

Deputy Wilson advanced a step and Enid made low growling noises in her throat like a cornered animal. Jake's first instinct was to make some sort of move or attempt to tell him to stay where he was, but he maintained his silence. The kid had to learn.

Every fiber of the woman's body gave signals of her impending explosion. Jake could read the signs like a book. Her fingers twitched and stroked the wooden neck of the guitar nervously. He watched as her eyes swung wildly from side to side like a caged animal. Her breathing was erratic. She was sweating and poised for launch.

"Ma'am, we really want to help you. You called 911 for help didn't you?" Thankfully, Wilson didn't try to get any closer.

"Of course I did you f*cker! It's called mental illness and I need help! I need to go to the god damned hospital!" Her face contorted into an ugly mask of anger. "Are you f*cktards going to help me or just stare at me like dirty perverts?"

Jake had dealt with his fair share of sick people, yet he was still fairly impressed and repulsed by her language. Who'd have thought a woman who looked like a transient granny could talk like that?

The look of shock on the EMT's faces showed they hadn't expected it either. Jake shifted over to the guy who looked to be in charge of the medical crew.

He kept his eyes on Wilson and Enid as he spoke to the man. "She may have taken pills, but she looks perfectly conscious and is breathing fine. We'll go ahead and take her in our car. She'll be going in on a PC hold. You can clear."

The other man nodded. "Sounds good to me. I wouldn't feel safe taking her in the bus anyway. One of you would have to ride with us." He extended his hand to Jake. "Thanks and have a good night. Stay safe."

Jake glanced briefly at the man and nodded before turning his attention back to Enid. The EMT's gathered their bags and backed out of the tiny, cramped apartment.

"Enid, we are going to get you some help. You can't take the guitar with you. It has to stay here." They were still locked in the same stare-off. "We can't keep it safe and it obviously means a lot to you." Wilson continued to reason with the wild eyed female.

The young deputy sounded at his wits end. Jake winced, he knew she'd heard it too and the battle had just shifted in her favor.

Wilson looked like every small town's golden boy. Tall, broad and fair. Jake had been deployed while the kid had been in high school, but he still recalled seeing stories about his football and baseball records in the newspapers. Jake's mother had insisted on sending the local news to him in her care packages so he could "keep up on things".

If Jake remembered right, he'd done an apprenticeship with a plumber before deciding to become a deputy. A decent enough showing at the academy, nothing too fabulous. His ability to judge and read body language could use a little work. Experience would give him that.