1997
I'm not sure why I'm here, but I have a feeling I'll get answers one way or another. The Highway patrol building downtown is an imposing structure, it's gothic like something from a Frank Miller comic. And yes I read comics, one of my more juvenile tendencies if you ask Stevie. It makes me uneasy being around so many cops in light of my most recent transaction with the authorities, but I have to know and our visit to the children's home gave me more questions than answers.
Removing my shades I approach the secretary at the front desk, she places a marker in her paperback looking up at me with a smile "Can I help you sir?" fidgeting I glance around the room at all the uniforms, I don't see the officer I'm looking for but that's not all that strange, he's probably out. "I'm-I'd like to talk to Trooper Beck if he's available" sitting back she types on her computer for a few seconds then shakes her head.
"Well it says he's in the building somewhere, I'll page him for you" she passes me a sign in sheet motioning for me to have a seat in a bank of chairs just behind me. Wedged between the wall and what looks to be a wookie sized man I fill it out. A few minutes later the clomp of boots in the hallway interrupts my people watching, the same figure of a man I was arrested by steps around the corner. He has a word with the secretary, looks at the sign in sheet raises an eyebrow then looks at me. He seems annoyed "If you lost some of your property the jail probably has it man".
Swallowing I stand up buttoning my jacket as I do, sober and in the full light of day he's much less familiar than I originally thought. I have to wonder how much of what I perceived to be my facial features were down to drink and my own guilty conscious amplified by the coincidence of the same name. He crosses his arms and I look immediately at his left ear for any sign of the cochlear implant or the scar from the surgery. Nothing. My heart sinks but I don't back down just yet. "I have all of my property that's not why I'm here-" throwing his hand up he shakes his head again "If you want to file a complaint the paperwork is with the secretary" again I swallow not moving.
"I'm not here to complain, I was drunk I drove I'll pay my fine and do my thirty hours of community service...I was. I was wondering if maybe I can speak to you for a few minutes" with the same skeptical look as before Trooper Beck shrugs motioning me to the back of the patrol room showing me to the chair in front of his desk. I take in the sports paraphernalia, the certificates he's gotten from various schools and trainings. I don't see any family photos, but he's a young guy he may not have a family yet. "This is gonna seem weird" Beck chuckles mirthlessly "This is already weird, I don't usually get a follow up visit from guys I arrest" shifting my weight I scrub a hand over my face.
"I'm-well you know who I am" he nods crossing his arms again "Yeah, Buckingham Fleetwood Mac. My mom's a fan" comforting to hear I suppose "But you're not?" he huffs rolling his eyes "Really not my style, too much hippie dippy shit" direct and to the point as well, "Anyway, I'm not here for anything law enforcement related. And I'm not here to hit on you-so don't get the wrong idea" this isn't going as well as I thought it would "I'd like to ask you something personal, about your childhood" color tinges Beck's face and he leans forward.
"My personal life isn't up for discussion" I should have called Stevie, she'd know how to do this gracefully. She's too busy with her solo stuff at the moment "I know, look I have a son. Stevie and me we gave him up for adoption years ago. We named him Connor but his first family renamed him Hunter Beck...he'd be your age" his eyes soften, his facial features relax "Sorry, but I'm not him. I've been Hunter Beck since I was born got baby pictures and embarrassing video of my birth to prove it" just as I feared. Dead end.
"Oh-well, I guess that answers my question" dejected I move to stand, I've probably wasted enough of his time already "But...I guess I can look him up by name and date of birth. If he's got a Driver's License" wiping my hand on the leg of my jeans I lean forward anxiously "You'd do that?" Beck shrugs booting up his computer "Sure, it's for law enforcement reasons right?" winking at me he types in Hunter's name and the date of birth I provide. A few seconds pass and the screen changes he makes a non-committal grunt "Huh...well I've got three possibilities. You know what he'd look like?"
