Team Mom (7 page)

When Coach returned to the department, he walked right into the watch commander's office without knocking and sat down.

The watch commander didn't even budge as he typed on an old typewriter. When he finished, he looked over at Coach and stared with more than evil eyes before he spoke.

He said, “You forgot to put those vans back on full, motherfucker.”

Coach shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it.”

“So what you want? Can't you see I'm busy? I can't tell you how much this place is getting on my freakin' nerves.”

“Need to talk,” Coach told him.

“'Bout what?”

“Crime.”

The watch commander said, “Crime? Ain't this a bitch. I thought you were coming in here to discuss world politics and shit. What do you want, Rob? I have things to do.”

“Look, I've been holding meetings in the neighborhood. We need to double up the patrols day and night. These fucking thugs are terrorizing people so bad, they don't want to come out of their homes.”

The watch commander took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His voice was strained from the pressure of the day when he spoke. “You think we don't know that?”

Coach said, “I know you know, because I keep telling you.”

“And I keep telling you, we can use only what we have. We have only so many police to patrol the streets, and until somebody in that big-ass office over there comes in here and tells us we have another hundred cops to put a stop to this shit, then guess what? The fucking shit continues.”

They sat and stared at one another in silence.

Finally, Coach said, “You ever thought about getting off your ass and walking over there, letting them know what's really going on in these streets, Brent?”

“Look, I've tried. I have done my job. Everybody's shit is packed right now. If I go over there with some more shit, then guess what I become? That's right. Their problem. And when they get problems in that big office over there, they get rid of them as soon as they can so they don't have to hear it. Look at me here, I'm typing on a fuckin' typewriter in this day and age because they don't want to fix my computer.”

There was another stare down between the two, and then the watch commander continued with his paperwork.

Coach found some energy to put up a fight. “This is bullshit. Senior citizens shouldn't have to live like this.”

The watch commander looked up. “Save it.” He put his glasses back on and then placed another sheet of paper in the typewriter without another word. When Coach got up to leave, the watch commander stopped him.

“Yeah?” Coach said.

“Maybe it's time for you to come off of the sidelines and get back in the game.”

Coach said, “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. My sister told me firsthand that you two had insurance policies on one another.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means that you have become complacent. Walking around on cruise control now. It's been a while now since that drunken bastard killed baby girl and the twins. I see you every day, and you come in here because you're still trying to keep busy, and it's not doing anybody any good, 'cause you're not making a difference. Hell, you have enough money that you could walk the world if you wanted. So, if you don't want to do something that matters, your ass should just go . . . and see what else the world has to offer.”

Coach said, “What's wrong with coming in here and staying busy?”

“Nothing wrong with it. It's not you, though.”

“Come again?”

“That's not the man my sister married. If that was your MO, I wouldn't have let her marry your sorry ass.”

Coach said, “Is that right?”

“Gotdamn right. Move on, man. You can get back on these streets anytime you want. I only put you in this gotdamned position until you got your head right, anyway.”

Coach and his dead wife's brother looked each other straight in the eye. Coach said, “I hear you. I hear you.” Then he walked out.

As Coach moved down the hallway, his brother-in-law, the watch commander, screamed, “Okay, if you hear me, don't forget to fill up my gotdamned vans!”

After Shonda called Coach and talked him up nonstop about how much she liked the flowers, Coach sat down at his desk and tried to come up with a plan to help Ms. Lois Gregory and stop all the break-ins happening in the neighborhood.

In addition to that, he began to deal with himself. For the past year, every time he told someone that he would make sure something was done or he would look into it, he'd gotten a bad feeling inside. The sentiment came from knowing deep down that if he had to go to someone within the police department to get it done, the shit was not getting completed. It had gotten to the point that when he would take the concerns of citizens to various individuals, it felt like he was talking and they were looking back at him like he was a damn fool.

Coach thought that maybe the watch commander was right. Why not get back on the streets and try to make things better if he could? Still, he was sure that the commander's words were laced with encouragement. He was right about one thing: his sister didn't marry a punk, and every time something became difficult when she was in his life, he faced it straight up and did what needed to be done. Coach didn't have to think too long about his decision before he marched back into the watch commander's office and told him that tonight he was putting his street uniform back on and he would do so until they found out who the hell was dealing out havoc in the community.

“Wow. It's been way too long since I had a dinner like this,” Coach said. He was sitting at the dinner table with Shonda and Jarques.

“I'm glad you like it.” Shonda was all smiles. She felt good about the meal she had prepared. She cut a piece of the baked chicken and plopped it in her mouth.

Jarques cut in. “My grandmother . . . she taught my mama how to cook.”

“You remember that, Jarques?” Shonda asked, a smile still on her face.

“Yup. I remember you didn't want to, but she wouldn't cook unless you helped.”

Coach had some ice water, then placed the glass back down. “Okay, getting back to our conversation, J, there is no way that the song ‘All I Want For My Birthday Is a Big Booty Girl' is a classic.”

Shonda laughed, then agreed.

Jarques said, “Yes, it is.... They used to play it on the radio almost every ten or twenty minutes and for your information the name of the song is ‘Birthday Song'.”

“Oh, so because they play it on the radio every two seconds, that makes it a classic?” Coach asked.

Jarques nodded. “Yup.”

“Why is that?”

“Because if they didn't, so many people wouldn't know about it.”

Coach thought for a moment, then said, “Yeah, okay. I get it.”

Coach didn't bother to question Jarques too much more about his taste in music after that. He just enjoyed the atmosphere at the dinner. It was clear that Shonda was happy that her son knew she was trying to get on with her life and still care for him too. And Coach was happy because for so many nights in the past three years, he had eaten dinner alone, with thoughts of what could have been dancing in his head.

After dinner, Coach wanted to drive past Ms. Lois Gregory's home to make sure she was okay. Since things were going well that evening, he went out on a limb and asked Jarques if he wanted to ride with him. This would give Jarques firsthand experience riding in a police car, in the front seat, for that matter. Jarques didn't seem that interested but agreed to go after his mother gave him a little nudging and after Coach promised they would return in twenty minutes, tops.

Jarques said, “So, criminals sit back there?”

It had been a minute since Coach had been in a registered cruiser with all the bells and whistles, and he fumbled with the squelch on the radio, because it was too loud. “Yeah, all kinds of badasses,” he replied. This car was much different from the Taurus he'd been driving.

Jarques watched him continue to fumble with the radio. “You sure you know what you're doing, Coach?”

Coach looked at him. “Yeah, I do.”

Jarques said, “Doesn't look like it.”

The cruiser's siren blared suddenly, and Jarques's mother opened the door to the house and looked out. “Is everything okay out here?”

Coach had to answer Shonda by rolling down the window and shouting over Jarques's laughter that they were fine. Finally, everything was exactly the way Coach wanted it. “There . . . I got it. It's been a minute, you know?”

Jarques said, “Yeah, I can tell.”

Coach could tell Jarques was excited, but not in curious way. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jarques said. Then he changed his mind. “No, not really.”

“What's on your mind?” Coach said.

“Just wondering why somebody would want a job that locks people up in jail.” He was still looking around the car.

Coach hesitated before answering. “You know, that's a good question.”

“Yeah?”

“That's part of the reason I took a desk job,” Coach confessed.

“What's the other part?”

Coach negotiated a left-hand turn and looked over at Jarques. “I lost my family,” he said. “Lost them in a car accident. I wasn't coping too well in the streets.”

Jarques didn't react. He didn't know what to say. Coach could even feel him tighten up.

“It's okay, J. It's been a few years now, and I'm coming back around.”

There was a brief pause in their conversation. Coach was listening to some of the calls on the radio. Jarques was halfway listening to the radio and looking out the window of the car.

“So, where are we going again?”

“To check on a neighborhood where some citizens have been robbed repeatedly.”

Jarques looked to the left and to the right as they drove down the street and straightened up, paying attention, then looked over at Coach. “You have your guns, right?”

“Guns?”

Jarques sort of chuckled. “Yes, guns. Every time I see cops, they have guns. Rifles and all that.” He looked around again. “Where's yours, Coach?”

“Didn't get them yet. Not until morning, when I get a reissue.”

“So we're riding over there without guns?” Jarques asked, trying to understand.

“Yup.”

Jarques remained quiet, and Coach could feel the boy's eyes on him as he drove.

It didn't take Coach more than seven minutes to arrive at the neighborhood where all the robberies were taking place. He was around the corner from Mr. Tall's and Lois Gregory's places. He slowed the car down after he turned onto their street.

“This must be it, right?” Jarques questioned.

“Yeah,” Coach replied.

“I could tell. You slowed down, and I heard the gravel under the tires, just like in the movies.”

“Is that right?” Coach was impressed.

“Yeah.”

“You're very observant. Maybe you have a future in police work.”

“Nah, doubt it,” Jarques quickly replied.

Coach was moving slowly down the street. He took a spotlight from the middle of the seat and shone it on each house they passed, making sure everything was safe.

“Coach, so if you don't have a gun, what're you going to do if you see someone?”

“Call it in on the radio, son,” Coach replied.

It was quiet for a moment. Then Jarques said, “You know, I've never been called that before by a man.”

Coach was looking out at the homes, still shining the spotlight on them. “Called what?”

It was quiet again for another moment. “Son,” Jarques told him.

Coach put down the spotlight and put his foot on the brake. “I'm sorry.... I mean, it just came out.”

Jarques smiled. “It's cool. Just wanted you to know.”

Coach said, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Jarques said, and then he looked back out the window.

Coach looked at him. Another second and he would have been staring. “Oh, okay . . . good.”

It was dark, but most of the homes they passed still had lights on inside, as most people were more than likely finishing up with dinner and getting ready for the next day. As Coach swung his spotlight back and forth across the street, shining it on each house, someone ran across the street, and he stopped the car.

Jarques turned and looked at Coach.

“You see that?” Coach asked.

“Yeah.”

“Someone just ran across the street.” Coach moved the spotlight in the direction in which they saw the person run, and when the spotlight caught up with him, they saw a group of boys standing on the sidewalk. Coach sat still for a moment, then started driving forward. When the boys saw the car moving toward them, they started walking so that their backs were facing the car.

Coach didn't pick up speed. He just kept driving along, and the spotlight lit them all up when he caught up to them. Each and every one of the boys turned their heads away from the car and looked as though they were seconds away from taking off running. Coach didn't stop. He just rolled by, keeping the spotlight on them, and as they approached the corner of the street, all the boys made a right and continued on their way.

“You think those were the guys?” Jarques said.

“I don't know. Could be.”

“Didn't look like they were doing nothing to me but walking,” Jarques said.

“Yeah.” Coach sat at the corner until the boys were no longer in sight, then made a left. Directly across the street on the main strip, Jarques noticed a small mom-and-pop shop.

“Oh, cool. Can you pull in there so I can get some candy for tomorrow?”

He asked the question so quickly that Coach didn't have time to think about it. When he pulled into the lot, he put the car in park. “Sure your mama lets you take candy to school?”

“Yeah, she lets me all the time. It keeps me focused.”

Coach looked up at the store. “Focused, right. Boy, don't get me in any trouble. Okay, hurry up. I told your mother we would be back in twenty minutes.”

Jarques ran into the store, and Coach dialed up Mr. Tall. He answered on the second ring.

“Hey. It's Coach.”

Mr. Tall said, “Hey. What did you do? Decide to let me change that counter play?”

“No, that's not happening. I wanted you to know that I'm in a police cruiser and just drove past your street and everything looks good out your way.”

“You're in a cruiser?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Tall wanted to know what was going on. “With another officer? Somebody with a gun?”

“No, my assigned car. I'm getting back on the street, Tall.”

“What? What did I miss?” Mr. Tall asked, because the last he'd heard, Coach didn't want anything to do with the streets.

“Just felt like it's the right thing to do, at least until we find out what's going on.”

Mr. Tall said, “Well, that's good to know, because Ms. Lois and I have been wondering all day what we are going to do, and more than likely, she's going to move in here with me for a while.”

“Oh, really?” Coach inquired.

“Yes, sir. Says she will not wake up again with a bunch of fools running all through her home, threatening her and all. It will be good for her.”

Coach noticed Jarques come out of the store. “Okay, I will talk to you later about it. Got to go.” Coach waited for Jarques to get in the car.

Right before Jarques opened the car door, he looked up and caught sight of the group of boys that Coach had shined the spotlight on. He didn't speak to them or nod or do anything like that. He just looked on as one of the boys in the crew nodded at him, acknowledging him.

Coach looked back and noticed the crew as Jarques got in the car.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jarques responded.

“You know them?” Coach said.

“Nah . . .”