"When To Wait"
By Ed Van Cise
"Oh my God! You killed him! You killed Jon!" shouted Ponch at Sgt. Joe Getraer as he desperately tried to stop the flow of blood from the hole in Jon's chest. The blood just wouldn't stop. It continued to gush from under Ponch's palm and between his fingers.
Getraer watched Ponch try to save the already extinguished life of his partner. With his revolver still warm in his hand, Joe's face went from looking confused to shocked to horrified to grief stricken to shocked again, all in a matter of seconds. He didn't even notice as Bear gently removed the gun from his hand and walked him to the curb. He vaguely remembered someone giving him a blanket as he tried to recall what had happened. His mind was blank, he could not recollect why he had shot his fellow officer and one of his best friends.
It seemed like just minutes ago, Ponch was convincing Jon and Getraer that a new taco shop on the corner was a great place for lunch. Jon and Joe finally agreed and headed out to their motors for the five-minute ride to the restaurant.
"My, God," Joe thought, "None of us put our vests on."
Suddenly, he was twisted around as Ponch grabbed him by his shoulders and yanked him to his feet. "Why!? Why in the hell did you do that? Why did you kill him!?" Ponch shouted angrily, tears streaming down his face. Bear quickly stepped between the two and separated them, but as Joe looked at Bear's face, it was obvious that he wanted answers to those very same questions. Joe looked at Bear, then at Ponch, then to the body the paramedics were slowly rolling over. He looked at his uniform, now streaked with blood where Ponch had grabbed him. Suddenly, the world went dizzy and he sunk back to the curb, head in hands.
"I.... I don't know..." stammered Joe, not sure what to say. Joe looked over Ponch's shoulders at the scene and could not believe what he saw. Laying now face up by a fence on a newly cut lawn was Jon Baker; the grass around him stained scarlet. LAPD investigators had already arrived and were taking photographs of the scene. A detective nodded to a pair of paramedics standing nearby. Slowly, they unfolded a large white sheet and draped it over Baker's body, quietly letting it fall over his head. Not even the blond hair was visible. Jon was gone. The detective then looked up and saw Joe standing there. He walked over to the sergeant simply asked, "Joe, what happened? What went wrong?"
Finally reality slowly began to set in. As he watched them put Jon's body into the ambulance, Joe realized, "My God, I just killed Jon Baker." He slumped back to the curb and his whole body began to shake.
Retrieving his notepad from his pocket, the detective sat down, put his arm around Getraer's shoulders and said, "Tell me what happened, Joe." Getraer looked up at the detective. They had met on several occasions over the years, but he could never remember the man's name. The name on his jacked said "Det. Tim Jacobs."
Quietly, Joe started to explain what he could remember.
"The three of us were eating at some taco joint Ponch had chosen. Suddenly, a car came screaming past, almost jumping onto a sidewalk full of people. The three of us ran to our motors and started to pursue. Jon called in the plates, and it turned out the car was reported stolen earlier that morning. We chased the guy for about twenty minutes before he went into a residential neighborhood. By that time, there were four CHP and two LAPD units in chase, with the three of us in the lead," answered Getraer, his eyes no longer looking at the detective but rather reliving the chase he and his friends had just experienced.
"He came up on a four way stop and couldn't make the turn. He ended up hitting a telephone pole. He should have been killed, or at least hurt enough to end the chase there, but he wasn't. Instead, he took off on foot into the neighborhood. The three of us jumped off our bikes and followed. Jon yelled that we should wait for backup. We should have waited. Why didn't we wait? If we'd have waited, Jon would still be alive!"
An LAPD sergeant came up to the group and gave Jacobs a cup of coffee. Jacobs quietly handed it to Getraer. Tim didn't want to debate actions that could not be reversed, but he hated to see someone he knew and respected beat himself up. He simply asked, "You guys took off on foot. What happened next, Joe?"
Joe sighed and slowly answered, the scenes vividly coming back now, "He crossed a couple of backyards until we came to this fence. He tried to climb it but Jon tackled him and brought him down. Ponch and I drew our guns as cover. The guy just wouldn't give up, though! We thought we had him at one point, but then he reached into his boot and grabbed a knife. I warned that I would shoot, but he didn't listen. He raised the knife, I aimed and fired. But at the same time, he..." Joe buried his head in his hands, the scenes flying by in his head
Jacobs was unsure how to try to comfort Getraer. He put his arm around Joe's shoulders and quietly asked, "What happened next, Joe? What happened?"
Joe lifted his head, tears flowing unchecked down his face, and looked back at the scene. All that was left was a patch of red grass roped off by yellow police tape. Jon was gone forever, he realized. He took a deep breath and continued, "The suspect turned Jon just as I fired. The bullet entered right in the center of Jon's chest. Since we had just left Central for lunch and weren't going on patrol, none of us were wearing our vests. The next thing I remember, Jon was laying face down in blood and Ponch was trying to do first aid. After that, it it's a big blur. I don't know what happened. I don't know, I just don't know, I don't know!" shouted Joe suddenly very angry.
Jacobs reached over and started shaking him, trying to calm him down. Suddenly, Joe's eyes flashed open and he quickly looked up at his wife, who was shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. "Joe, wake up! You didn't kill Jon Baker. It's only another nightmare. Please wake up!"
Joe blankly looked at her, then looked at the sweat-covered sheets. He was at home, in bed. At first it didn't make sense. Then, he said, "Oh, Betty. I did it again. I can't believe I killed Jon Baker."
"But," she quietly replied, "you didn't kill him. You had another nightmare. You know he's in the hospital and doing just fine. What saved his life was your mandate last week that all officers wear their vests all hours they are wearing a uniform."
"But...but I still shot him. I can't believe I shot him."
"Yes, you shot him, but how could you know that guy was going to put Jon in your line of fire. When he dropped Jon after you shot him, Ponch quickly had the guy handcuffed. Joe, your action may very well have saved all three of your lives. Besides, with all the attention Jon's getting from the nurses, I'm sure he doesn't mind one bruised rib," she replied, happy to see a small smile flit across Joe's face at the thought.
"I know you're right, but somehow I just can't get over this. When I went and talked to Jon last night, he suggested the he, Ponch, and I go to a CHP psychologist to help us get over this. At first, I thought he was joking. I figured that since no one was hurt, everything would be fine. Now I'm starting to see that it's not that easy. I think we should really look into this. Perhaps together we can get past this."
"You've always said Jon has good instincts. I think you should listen to him and look into the matter. I'm sure the CHP will understand. You're not the first officer to have this happen to. They want to help you, and so do I."
"Thank you, Bettie. You're already doing what I need you to do ñ listen and keep waking me up from these horrible nightmares. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"I love you, Joe, and I will do anything and everything I can to help."
"Good night dear, and I love you too," said Joe as he turned off the bedstand light. He closed his eyes and hoped to sleep the rest of the night dream free. As he was drifting off to sleep, he quietly said to himself, "I should have listened to Jon. We should have waited for backup."
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