Description:
In writing, you follow the rules until you need to break them.
Contents:
Burning Blue: Chapter One
Dear Readers,
I've convinced myself to release the first chapter of the my second novel, "Burning Blue" here on Mr. Grudge. Based on reader responses (if any) I'll post more chapters in the near future. Please click this link to review the copyright details of this manuscript with the U.S. Copyright Office. I hope you all enjoy this work, as it has been rejected hundreds of times by agents and publishers alike, perhaps with good reason. Thanks for stopping by. -Mike.
Burning Blue
A Novel By
Michael J. Kannengieser
Occasionally, blotches of sodium-yellow from the streetlights bled into the panorama and ruined the illusion for him. He wanted to escape into a fantasy world, he thought. An alternative universe would have been preferable, considering the situation he found himself in. Since his father passed away Chief Clark was ready to pounce on him; and, he had only a few friends left. Still, now matter how hard he tried, or how much he wished, he was trapped working in the slums, in a dilapidated patrol car that had no heat, and his feet stuck to the floorboards due to generations of coffee spills.
“Hey Jack, do you believe in ghosts?” Dan took one hand off the steering wheel and looked over at him. Jack shook his head and straightened up like a kid caught napping in class.
“What?
“Ghosts.” said Dan. “I saw this documentary on T.V. the other night. It was pretty spooky stuff. This one guy had pictures of dead Confederate soldiers floating around some southern plantation. I got the creeps.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to “Winter Wonderland” on the radio. Jack rolled his eyes, groaned, and then pointed ahead with his finger.
“Hey, drop me off at that corner, will you?” said Jack.
Danny glanced at him and shook his head. “What’s the matter with you? It’s the Christmas season. You’re supposed to be happy.”
Jack stretched the corner of his mouth and sucked his teeth. “Happy? What do I have to be happy about?” He asked, with his hands raised.
“Sorry. I forgot about your dad. I didn’t think…” said Dan, as he pulled beside side the curb and stopped the car. The snowplows made it difficult to get close to the sidewalk, as they pushed aside steep hills of compacted snow along the avenue. He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then blew out a long wisp of smoke.
“Forget it. That’s not what’s bothering me anyway.”
“Well, what is it, then?” Danny asked, as he flicked his ashes on the floor. Jack slouched and played with his hat.
“Nah, forget it, really. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Jack.” The big man adjusted his hefty frame, his belly up against the steering wheel, huffing as he moved. When he settled down, he began to tap his fingers again, letting the cigarette dangle from his mouth. “Listen, stay warm, okay? Do you have a place to coop?”
Jack chuckled and wagged his finger at him. “A good cop doesn’t get cold, wet, or hungry.”
“Or horny…” added Danny. He laughed at his own joke, slapped the steering wheel, and then coughed. When he stopped choking, he turned his attention back to Jack, who already put on his winter hat and gripped the door handle to get out. He opened the door a crack, the shut it again. Then he faced Danny again.
“Hey, do you think I could ride with you, you know, for the tour?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully, and cocked his head a bit. Danny released a long sigh while shaking his head.
“Aw man, Jack, you know I would if I could; but I can’t. You know that.” He said, as he picked up his hands, afterward he let them drop on the steering wheel with a thud. Jack could see his belly jiggling beneath his duty jacket. If Danny’s hair turned completely gray, instead of just at the temples, and he grew a full beard, he could pass for ‘Old Saint Nick himself. In fact, there were plenty of smart-ass cops in the precinct that dragged up that comparison every year. Yet, he always shrugged them off. He held no illusions about himself; and, he was painfully aware that he was burned out and couldn’t afford to retire.
“Come on Dan. I must be the only foot post out here in the whole city. There’s a cold weather emergency on for Christ’s sake. Hell, even the squeegee guys went home.” He said as he waved his hand at the blizzard outside. In a huff, he hit the door with his forearm, without the dramatic effect he was hoping for. His heavy jacket softened the blow.
“I could actually freeze to death out there.”
“Well, that’s apparently what Captain Roy is hoping for.” said Dan, referring to their precinct commander.
“What a pal, man. Thanks for being there for me.”
“What? I am there for you. I am the only one there for you on this entire job.” He raised his voice, not so much in anger, but like a dad reminding a son who pays the bills.
“By the way…” Dan continued. “You were supposed to walk to your post. Thank you very much.”
With his teeth clenched tight, Jack worked his jaw muscles in frustration. His eyes fired imaginary lasers through the windshield, evaporating mountains of snow and blowing up cars. After seething a moment, he pushed the door to get out, paused, and then turned around again.
“Well, could I at least ride with you a few hours and then I'll find a coop?”
Danny hung his head, staring at his gut. When he looked up again, he smacked his lips.
“Well, what if Parker sees you in the car with me?”
“Parker? Who the hell is he? He’s a sergeant just like you; a junior sergeant too. Tell him to go screw himself.” Jack wrinkled his face like he smelled something rotten.
“Yeah right; I do that and Parker runs to Roy and rats me out and I’ll be transferred to the property clerk’s office tomorrow. No thanks.” said Dan.
“Come on, help me out here buddy.” Jack nudged Dan’s arm with his elbow and smiled.
“Damn it Jack. Don’t pressure me. You know you’re on your own.” He waved his cigarette in the air while ranting. The glowing, red-orange ember at the tip left a dancing streak in the air inside the dark interior of the cruiser. Danny’s beefy arm rubbed against his side and the nylon fabric of his coat swished with his movements. The wavy locks of curly hair on his head bounced as his head jerked and his face reddened like he was starved for oxygen.
“Look at me Jack.” He pointed at his chest with his thumb. “I’m the senior sergeant in this precinct and I have rookie sergeants telling me what to do. Hell, I’m the only one in the whole goddamn city who has to drive all the way across the borough in a blizzard to pick up a driver for the tour.”
Jack turned his head and stared out the window as Danny unleashed his tirade. The two rarely spoke of Jack’s predicament, and Danny would just as soon forget about it, except that the pressure was beginning to mount. Jack braced himself until Danny eventually cooled down. Also, he had the common sense to keep his mouth shut.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Dan said, as he reached over and touched his sleeve, then pulled his hand away.
“But, it’s getting kind of hard to be your friend lately. Your old man isn’t even cold in his grave and Chief Clark is after you.” Danny gazed out the windshield, and then he lowered the volume on the radio.
“I can’t help you, buddy. I almost lost this job once due to my own stupidity. And, thanks to your dad I still have it. But I can’t risk losing it again. This is all I have.” He waved his hand at the dashboard of the patrol car and all of its switches for the lights and the small computer screen. “Believe it or not…” Danny continued. “This job, this crappy job is what I’ve come to depend on. It’s what I’ve become.” He rolled down his window a crack and flicked his cigarette into the wind.
Jack watched as his friend picked up his Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate and swallowed the last drops. He was right, Jack thought. And, he would be wrong to try and take advantage of him. As he watched him fish around his pocket for his lighter with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, he imagined that every day when Danny arrived at work that was when his life began.
At his home, he was merely in storage until he could go back to the station house the next day where people would take notice of him. He had no family and he got married. All of his other “pals” stopped hanging around with him when he stopped drinking over twenty years earlier. If he never went to Jack’s father for help with his drinking, the two of them would never have become close.
“You’re right. I am using you. I’m sorry.” said Jack. He slouched against the door panel and rested his elbow on the armrest. “This whole thing is my fault and I have to bail myself out of it.”
“No, don’t be sorry. You’re the one who’s right. I haven’t really been looking out for you and I should have been.” Said Dan as he lit the cigarette and took a few quick puffs on it to get it started.
“Aw come on Dan. You’ve been there for me. I’m a jerk. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I know you’re a jerk. But, I still could have done more to…I don’t know…look after you, or something.” Danny twisted the knob on the radio so he could hear the carols.
“Forget the whole thing.” said Jack. “Just bring me a cup of coffee or a wood burning stove and a cord of wood later on, okay?” He picked up his baton and readied himself to jump out in the heavy snowfall. Danny pressed his lips together and tried to suppress a giggle.
“What?” Jack asked him.
“Nothing…nothing.” said Danny as he dismissed Jack’s query with a back handed wave.
“Come on; tell me what’s so funny.” Jack smiled as Danny gave up and laughed aloud.
“You’re not going to think this is funny, but it caught me just right.” said Danny, as he held his stomach. He had a silent, breathy, “hee-hee-hee” giggle that amused Jack more than any jokes Danny told.
“Just say it. I want to hear it.” Jack said, and he smacked him on the arm.
“I just thought about that comedian, that guy who does the routine where he shouts ‘Merry Christmas you bunch of losers’ with a bullhorn.” said Dan. “That’s us, a couple of losers.”
“Oh boy…” said Jack. “No more late night T.V. for you.” He rolled his eyes and opened the door. The wind forced it shut, and he looked back at Dan in disbelief. Danny regained his composure and set his cigarette down in the ashtray.
“Listen…” He said. “Stay out of sight for a while. I’ll swing back in about an hour and pick you up. If Parker or anyone else runs to Captain Roy, I’ll deal with them.”
“Hey, thanks. I mean it. But I think I’ll hide in one of the buildings. Maybe one of the tenants will take pity on me and invite me in for coffee for a while, or something.”
“No. I don’t want you to, damn it. It’s too dangerous. You could probably even file a grievance with the union about this. Roy will be end of tour in about an hour. At that time, I’ll come back and get you. Maybe I’ll get you re-assigned to the stationhouse.” Danny took one last drag on his cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray.
“Okay. Just raise me on direct and I’ll meet you at that corner. What’s that, five eight street and Stewart?” said Jack as he strained to see the nearby street sign.
“Yeah, five eight street and Stewart Avenue, just keep an ear on your radio. And, if you get any jobs, don’t go until you get some backup. Understand?” Danny tilted his head forward and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, got it. See you in a bit.” said Jack as he shuffled over to exit the car.
“Hey…” Danny stopped him, and Jack looked back with his mouth open.
“I probably shouldn’t talk about this. Not here, anyway. But, that allegation that mutt Munoz made about you? I think you should talk to a lawyer. And, not one of those union clowns either. I mean a real attorney.” Danny leveled his gaze at him and Jack took a gulp of air.
“Everything you’ve done before like showing up late for roll call, getting caught off post, and fighting with the other bosses is all small stuff.
But this? This could land you in jail…prison.” Internal affairs even take drug dealers seriously these days; especially when it comes to money.”
They sat silent for a moment. Danny reached over and turned off the music. The only sounds came from the car engine, the chatter on their police radios, and the dull, moaning wind.
“Are you alright?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Jack said as he adjusted his hat.
“Are you sure?”
“I said I was alright and I’m alright. Now, let me get going.” he said as he pushed his weight once more to leave the car. And, once again, he turned around and spoke.
“Oh…by the way, the answer is no.” said Jack.
Danny squinted at him and tilted his head. “No? No what?”
“No, I don’t.” Jack smiled as he teased him.
“You don’t what? You don’t want to work? We know that already. Now, what the hell are you talking about?” Danny said, with his mouth left gaping.
“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. Remember?” Jack chuckled. He liked to amuse himself by tormenting Danny because he was fairly gullible for a crusty, old police sergeant.
“Ah, laugh if you must. But, they had pictures of the real thing.” said Dan, as he jabbed his forefinger in the air to emphasize his point.
“Oh, figure it out. Those pictures are phony. These guys use computers and all kinds of programs to make it look real. I saw a guy on T.V. once who made a little movie of a U.F.O. being shot down by some Afghan guerrilla with a Stinger missile.” said Jack, wearing a wide, toothy grin.
“Okay, forget the pictures.” said Dan. “Just tell me that it isn’t at least possible for someone who died in some sort of crisis, or had unfinished business, or even a grudge against somebody, you’re telling me that they couldn’t come back to settle the score?”
“They don’t.” Jack crossed his arms and tried to keep a straight face.
“They don’t? Is that all you have to say for your argument, counselor?” Danny let out an “hmmph”, and rolled his eyes, as if he couldn’t stand someone so ignorant.
Using his thumb, Jack pointed to the buildings they sat next to.
“You see those developments out there?” He asked.
“Yeah, so what?” said Danny. He checked them out himself, lowering his head to see through the passenger window.
“There were three homicides here last year. There were maybe five last year and who’s counting how many in the past ten years.”
“So, what’s your point?” Danny asked with a shrug.
“My point? Well, don’t you think that any of the dearly departed I’m
referring to had any unfinished business, unrealized dreams, or maybe just a tad of hostility toward their killer? If that were the case, we’d be tripping over ghosts around here. Get the hint? Once you’re dead, you’re gone, and there ain’t no coming back.”
Danny raised his arms in mock surrender, and then allowed them to drop at his sides. “Okay, okay…you win. Now, get going before I change my mind.” he said as he extended his arm and pretended to shove him outside.
“Don’t be too long. I’m freezing already.” Jack said as he stepped outside and sank into the high snow bank. He slammed the door, and the wind almost toppled him over. Immediately, he became miserable. Danny was all the way up the street and he watched the red tail lights fade away behind sheets of falling snow. He was tempted to chase him down the road and beg to be let back in the car, but it was too late. Instead, he plodded over to the nearest building wondering if anyone at the station house would rush him out a pair of snowshoes if he called them and asked very, very nicely.
When he reached the entrance to the lobby, the wind helped him yank open the heavy, steel and glass door, and almost took his arm out of his socket. He stepped cautiously inside, first checking the rear stairs for vagrants, and then inspecting the elevators for anyone else who didn’t belong there. Once he felt safe, he found a spot by the front window and leaned against its hip-high ledge. This made a handy table for him to spread out all of the junk food he smuggled in his pockets. The snacks satisfied the “number three” rule of a good cop not getting hungry, he thought to himself. With any luck, he could try to obey rule number four. He grinned at the idea, but would never cheat on his girlfriend Terry. He met and talked to a lot of girls as a cop. If he wanted to, he could have dated some of them. However, he and Terry were serious, and the way his life was going, having recently lost his dad, and with the job giving him a hassle, he didn’t want to blow the one good thing happening in his life.
After setting up his little smorgasbord of chips and candy bars, he dug a bottle of water out of one of his pockets and cracked the cap open. If he really did walk to his post as he was ordered to, the water probably would have frozen before he got there. He took his time enjoying his snack, and then lit a cigarette. A quick check of the time revealed that a mere seventeen minutes had passed since Danny abandoned him there. Using his arm, he swept away his discarded wrappers and sat on the ledge.
Seated sideways, he watched the wind whip the trees back and forth out front. A woman fought her way up the sidewalk, stepping carefully as she struggled in the deep drifts. She lugged two plastic shopping bags laden with groceries and was getting close. Jack jumped up and held the door open for her and she stepped inside and stomped her feet to shake the snow from her boots.
“Thank you officer, thank you.” she said as she plopped her bags down on the same ledge where Jack laid out his junk food. Jack closed the door and watched the lady as she fumbled through here pocket book and Jack searched the lobby for a convenient spot to loaf again.
“What are you doing out in all of this snow, Officer?” She asked as she removed her scarf and gloves.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Jack as he slouched against the wall by the elevator across from her. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips and he allowed his unzipped duty jacket to hang open.
“If I don’t shop, I don’t eat.” she said. “I live alone.” Then, she rolled up her hat and gloves, stuffed them in her rather large pocket book and peeked at him from the corner of her eye. She was a young woman, maybe in her late thirties, somewhat plump in her midsection, yet it was hard for Jack to tell for sure as she wore a puffy, down filled overcoat. She gave the litter on the windowsill a disapproving look, and Jack assumed she associated the mess with him. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Jack went to her and reached out his hand.
“Here, let me help you with those.” he said as he took one of the bags from her.
“Oh, what a gentleman; you don’t find many of them anymore.”
He followed her to the elevator and pressed the button. Since it was already at the lobby level, the door opened right away. Jack leaned inside and checked the corners for anyone who may be stalking. He did this more for show, as he was confident that nobody had gotten on or off the elevator for the entire time he was there.
She smiled and took her groceries from his hands, but made a point to bend forward and read his name tag. The moment was awkward for him, and he simply smiled as she took her time examining it.
“Chase? Your last name is Chase?” she asked as she pulled away and looked at him through squinty eyes.
“Indeed it is, ma’Am.” he said, in his official, “cop” tone.” Usually, when a civilian takes the time to read an officer’s nametag or shield number, it’s most likely for the purposes of making a civilian complaint. Jack wondered whether she was actually going to make a phone call to some one about the trash he left in the lobby. The police department would have no difficulty believing a well-mannered woman such as her. The way his career was going, he’d get transferred upstate to guard the city’s water reservoirs.
“Are you Chief Chase’s son?”
“Chief Chase?” Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. Certainly, the woman had to be confused.
“Yes, yes, Chief chase. Your father was a chief, wasn’t he?” She fumbled with her plastic grocery bags, transferring them both to one hand. The elevator door began to shut and she quickly used her hand to keep it open.
“My dad was a minister.” he said, feeling a bit more at ease. He relaxed and put his hands in his pockets. Rocking on his heels, he waited for her response as she stared past him into space for a split second.
“I met your father before, though.” She continued. “He always wore a uniform. It made him look like an army general. You know, big shoulders, chest pushed out.” She set her packages down and held her hands in front of her to demonstrate the Reverend Chase’s size. Then she picked them up again.
“Yeah, my dad was certainly a big man.” Jack smiled as he remembered him. “I’m the runt in the Chase family.” said Jack, the elevator door closed again and the she allowed it to close.
“By the way…” Jack continued. “That uniform was something they gave him to wear at various functions. He was a department chaplain.” He smiled with pride while looking down at his wet boots. He rubbed his muddy sole on the tiled floor and checked his watch.
“You must be proud.” The woman tilted her head, and leaned forward as though she were peering over a pair of bi-focals.
“Yes…yes I was.” he said, while he fumbled with his watchband, making it tighter.
“Say, where has your daddy been? he used to come to the tenant association meetings once a month and lead us in prayer.”
“He did?” Jack opened his eyes and examined her as if she had just landed in front of him.
“Oh yes honey. We meet on the first Wednesday of every month. You didn’t know he came here?”
“Dad was a busy man. He visited a lot of places once a month. I just never heard him talk about any tenant association meetings. That’s all.” Jack cleared his throat.
“Oh, he must have. Why, just this past July he came to our big, Sunday breakfast at the community center. He was our special guest.” she said, while she gripped the handles on her grocery bags with both hands.
“Are you sure that was my father?”
“Yes, yes, of course; Reverend Chase. You even look like him. Though not as tall…” She stopped in mid sentence and smiled. “What’s the matter? Is your father too busy to come visit us anymore?”
“My father is dead.” Jack said with a sigh. “It’s been more than three months now.” He clenched his fist and choked back tears. It galled him when people he met, strangers, spoke glowingly about his father and all the wonderful things he did for them or their organization, and they become shocked to learn that he died.
“Oh my word, I am so sorry. I had no idea.” She covered her mouth with her hand.
“Apparently no one else in the tenant association did either.” said Jack.
The woman pressed the elevator button and the door opened, she got on and stood in the center, facing him. “Again, I am so sorry. I had no idea. No one let us know. I’m going to call Chief Clark tomorrow and find out what happened.”
“Why don’t you simply ask me? I was his son.” He said; but she wasn’t listening. She pressed the button on the panel for her floor and Jack could see that she couldn’t wait for the door to finally close.
“I’ll pray for you, officer. I’ll say a prayer for you and your family.” The woman nodded and smiled as the door glided closed.
“No need to. I don’t have a family. Mom died when I was six….” Jack said as he followed her eyes between the gap which was narrowing between them. The elevator took her away, and he went back to his perch with a small amount of satisfaction for having made her uncomfortable.
Many times since he buried his father he would hear from people who told tales about how his dad saved them from drugs, alcohol, or assorted sins. Yet, none of them were at his funeral. They used him, he thought, for their own good, and ignored him at his own time of need.
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