Thicker Than Blood

Chapter 3: Change

       Silence; dead silence. It was perfect, too perfect. I knew that it would not last and boy, was I right.

       I stand over a familiar grave, kicking the rocks that lay on top with my head down. Thinking about the body buried below my feet 6 feet under as well as to asking myself about the secrets it took to its grave. But I guess some secrets are better off kept quiet.

       Then, out of now where, the static of the radio blares out of my car. I knew who was on the other end of the static, but I wish I didn't. If there is one secret that should not be kept from this world, it should be my hatred for Dwight. I remind him every time he picks up that mic and voices his opinions over it. I would scream it at the top of a mountain if I could.

       "Roger, you there? We got a potential 187, over."

       A 'potential 187'? That can't be right. Sure, this town is known for its drunken ways with fights and assaults but murder? Dwight must have misinterpreted the call and screwed up like he always does.

       I rushed back to the car, dropping something from my pocket onto the ground. I was too tired to go back to get it and proceeded to my cruisier. I jump in, ripping the mic out of its place and nearly yanking the whole stereo out.

       "Dwight, can you repeat that. Did I just hear you say that there is a 'potential 187'?" I rush through my words as fast as I could with trying to make sense of the situation.

       "Yes! I need you and Louis on this now," he said with force backed in his voice. I have never heard a little girl sound so powerful but, yet again, it was Dwight, and did he know how to surprise someone.

You can never be so sure with Dwight, especially when he gets over worked. Maybe he was just excited that Chief Sergeant Willy finally relived him from dispatch duty and is allowing him to go into the field. That maybe he might have a chance at seeing a dead body. I know I got pretty worked up when I saw my first.

       "Dwight, calm down. Let's get this cle-" I began.

       "I'm not playing Jim. Get Officer Louis at the station and head over to 23 Woodpike Road!" He was not taking my shit today.

       Flooring the gas pedal and gaining speed quick, I get to the station in what should have been a 20-minute drive in half the time. Calling out to Officer John Louis, urging him to get in. Yelling towards him that "We got a 187!"

       I do not know if I am excited or just in shock about this call as it was not over some drunk civilian or streeker in the streets but, a mystery.  All I know, is that we had to be the first ones at the scene.

       I pulled up to the station, hollering Louis' name from the window.  Louis ducking his head into the car and off we went. Travelling to the outskirts of town with our sirens echoing in the distance and lights shining. Doing 70 m/h down the highway; I knew the fun had just begun.

       Along the way, Louis and I strike up a conversation about the town and how over the years it has lost its ways. Becoming run down with parasites; feeding off what is left of the good old Butte. Once "America's Best Small Town", proclaimed by the Washington Post in 1961, has now been turned inside out and flipped on its head. There was nothing great or even descent about Butte, Montana.

       "I've seen it all, you know. I have seen the good and the bad of this town, more so the bad yet, I love this place. It's where I grew up. I learned how to throw a baseball with my dad down at Billy Miner's Park and met my beautiful, caring wife here. I don't think I could ever leave this place," said Louis under his grey bushy mustache.

       "I mean, there must have been sometimes when you wanted to get up and leave this dingy place, right?" Glancing over to Louis. Seeing him faced towards the window, counting the trees as they roll by us.

       "When you've lived here as long as I have, you get over all the bad things and only look for the good. The good in the places, the good in the people; all you want to see in your town is the good. Not only have I looked past the bad in this town, but also the problems in my life. This town has raised me into the officer I am today; into the man you see before you. However, you need to stop seeking the bad in things and start focusing on the positive. Allow this new town to you change you. And maybe, you can finally live happily."

      Louis had a very valid point.  He's been living in this town for over 50 years and has generations of relatives who's footsteps he's followed in. He's related to some of the first settlers here, dating all the way back to 1860.  I took into consideration what he had wisely told me, but knowing myself, I'd never change.