AULD LANG SYNE
“Mere human beings cannot afford to be fanatical about anything. Not even about justice or loyalty. The fanatic for justice ends by murdering a million helpless people to clear a space for his law courts. If we are to survive on this planet there must be compromises.”
- Storm Jameson
For the third year in a row Officer Ralph O'mally had pulled the New Years Eve shift. It sucked to be the new kid on the block. He hated working in Los Alamos. If there had been any other choice when he graduated from the Police Academy he would have taken it. Hell, even Estancia would be better than Los Alamos. The damn cone heads made him feel stupid every time he talked to them. Two weeks ago he was in the principle's office at his son's grade school talking about how his son just didn't get along with the other kids and seemed developmentally not on par with his grade level.
"Maybe we should think about having your son tested for the special needs program. It is an excellent program and he may get the attention he needs," the principle had said. Isabel had looked at me like I was the devil and started crying. My god this place was killing him.
The last eight years had been pretty rocky after his knee injury playing for the Crimson Tide. All his hopes of a professional football career went up in smoke. He had dropped out of college with his stellar C- average married Isabel because she was pregnant and moved in with her parents in Espanola, New Mexico. The police academy just seemed like a perfect fit for his six foot four inch two hundred and eighty pound football mentality.
In the middle Ralph's musings he spotted a cars tail lights swerving on the road ahead of him and felt a glimmer of hope that New Years Eve might turn out to be OK after all.Through the heavy snowfall, Len barely noticed the flashing lights in his rear view mirror. He started pumping the brakes to get over to the curb. He’d been driving erratically from exhaustion. Len could barely get the window down. The officer was standing with the snow blowing into his face,“Excuse me sir, may I see your drivers license?”
Len was so tired he could hardly move. He fumbled for his wallet, “What is it officer?”
“I’ll have to ask you to step out of the car please.”
Len almost fell as he slumped out of the car. In the cold distance he heard the eerie cry of a crow, cacaw, and said, “Can you tell me what the problem is, officer?”
Len reached for his cell phone when the officer said more sternly, "Sir, I will not ask you to step out of the care again."
“I’m giving you a sobriety test. You were driving very dangerously for these conditions, sir. Do you know what day it is and what the time is, sir?”
The snow bit into Len’s already cold and exhausted body. He should have put on his parka before getting out of the car.
“Of course, it’s about 3 o’clock in the morning January 1st."
“Would you please stand on one leg and touch your nose for me, sir?”
Try as Len would he couldn’t succeed. The combination of poor balance, the wind blowing and the slick surface defeated him at all attempts.
“Please walk a straight line for me sir with both arms out like this.”
Len tried to walk a straight line but was too exhausted from the evening to stay on track for more than one step. On the third step he slipped and fell to the ground from exhaustion.
“I’m afraid I have to take you down to the station and check your blood alcohol level, sir. Get in the back of the car please. You can lock up your car and leave it there for the evening. I’ll notify a towing service of its existence.”
“Officer, I’m as sober as you are. I am exhausted and have no sense of balance.”
“If you don’t get in the back of my car immediately, I’ll be forced to handcuff you and charge you with resisting arrest.”
“Could I at least get my parka?”
“Yes sir, you may.”
Len reached into the Rover and got his parka from the passenger seat. He put the parka on and reached for his phone and portable computer.
Officer O’Mally said, “I’m sorry Mr. Mahoney, you can’t take anything with you to jail”.
“What do you mean I can’t take anything with me?”
Officer O’Mally pulled Len towards the police car, locked and shut the door of the Rover. After opening the rear door of the squad car he pushed Len’s head down to force his entry into the vehicle.
“You can’t treat me like this. I’m a highly placed lab official.”
Officer O’Mally slammed Len’s door, walked around the vehicle got in and drove the two miles to the police station in silence. Officer O’Mally’s rage was obvious. Len was quiet all the way to the station, afraid to incite him further. It all felt like a dream. The police station looked surreal, a flat white exterior masked against a snow flecked black sky. The quiet solitude of Los Alamos and Len’s exhaustion left him unprepared for the noise of the car door opening into the bright police station parking lot. Even though it was a cold January morning, Len had a damp acrid scent in his nose as he was pulled out of the car and approached the building entrance. Officer O’Mally opened the door for Len guiding him through the entrance. His throat became parched and constricted from the heated air. Officer O’Mally brought Len to the alcohol check station. The machine showed an alcohol level of .02 percent.
“See, I’m not drunk. Now will you let me go home?”
“This machine is not always accurate Mr. Mahoney. I can smell the alcohol on your breath and you couldn’t pass tests that require basic skills required to drive safely. I’m going to have to book you on reckless driving charges and release you in the morning.”
“You can’t do this to me. I am a very important person with the Labs.”
“This way Mr. Mahoney. It will go a lot better for you if you just go with the flow. We can make this a very unpleasant experience otherwise.”
Officer O’Mally took Len to the booking room where his fingerprints were registered, his possessions secured, and the paperwork filled out.
“Hi Rozz, here’s a hot one for you. His name is Mr. Leonard Mahoney.” The women doing the fingerprints was Hispanic and talked with a thick Mexican accent.
“Que pasa Ralph, busy night, no. Please extend your right hand with the fingers spread out, Mr. Mahoney?”
Len pulled his arm away from Rozz’s grasp. “This is a mistake. I need to use a telephone. I demand to use a telephone.”
Officer O’Mally grabbed Len’s arm and extended it to Rozz. She pried open Len’s fingers and placed them on the ink pad.
“Generally, I like to do things by the book, Mr. Mahoney. You however, have done nothing but give me and Rozz here a hard time. It’s going to be awhile until we can get you to a phone. Sorry about that.”
Len continued to demand his phone call throughout the night. The jailers and station attendants had heard it all before.
Copyright © 1993 - 2010 Philip Regenie, All Rights Reserved
