Trading Places
by
Author’s
Note: This is essentially a true story. Several
months ago, a Columbus, Ohio police officer was killed while directing traffic
by a hit-and-run driver. There will
be a rather unexpected twist to this story. According to news reports, this twist is allegedly
true.
Ponch and Jon were sitting on
their motorcycles on the side of the road.
It was a beautiful sunny day and the two Highway Patrol officers were
enjoying the sun...and the lack of speeders in the rush-hour traffic.
“I’m telling you partner,” Ponch
said, flashing his impossibly white teeth. “This is the sort of day where you’re just glad to be alive.”
Jon chuckled at his partner’s
good mood. But then, he reflected,
Ponch is almost never in a bad mood. “What’s
the occasion? You seem awfully chipper
this morning.”
“Why does there need to be an
occasion? I mean, it’s a beautiful
day. The sun is shining, the birds
are singing and Mary Jo Talley agreed to have dinner with me tonight!”
“Mary Jo Talley?” Jon thought
for a moment. “Oh, isn’t she that
blonde at that Mexican restaurant? You’ve
been chasing her awhile, what’d you do to finally get her to change her mind?”
“She just couldn’t say no to
the ol’ Poncherello charm!”
“In other words, you followed
her around like a puppy until she said ‘yes’ just to get you to stop asking.”
Ponch put on his best hurt-little-boy
face. “Jon! I’m hurt!
Do you think I have so little restraint as to not take a girl’s word
when she says ‘no’?”
“When it comes to sex, no.
When it comes to getting dates, yes.”
“Honestly, Jon!” Ponch tried to look cross at his partner, but
he was in too good a mood. Very soon,
the toothy grin came out again.
Jon returned the grin with one
of his own and turned his attention back to traffic. That’s when he saw her.
“Hey Ponch, check her out.”
Ponch followed his partner’s
line of sight until he saw the attractive redhead in an MG midget. He flashed her a grin, which she returned wholeheartedly.
“Hey, what about Mary Jo?” Jon
said as he nudged Ponch in the ribs.
“Who?” Ponch was captivated.
Unfortunately, so was she.
She didn’t notice that traffic ahead of her had stopped until the hood
of her car wedged itself underneath a rather large pick-up truck ahead of
her. Both motor officers winced at
the sound of twisting metal as the two vehicles became one.
Then they moved out into traffic to render aid as Jon called for help.
“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?” The man in the pickup jumped out and ran to the driver’s side of the
MG.
“I am doing my best to get out
of my car,” she snapped, embarrassed at her lack of attention and the results.
“Something I don’t seem able to do at the moment.”
Ponch and Jon ran over and immediately
began tugging on the driver’s side door. It wasn’t moving.
“Are you hurt?” Jon asked the
woman.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Just stuck.”
“Hey partner,” Ponch said affably.
“Why don’t you go direct traffic while I try to help this little lady
out of her car.”
“I got a crowbar in the back
of my truck,” the other driver offered. “I
wouldn’t mind contributing to ripping this car to shreds...even if it IS to
help her.”
The woman gave him a withering
look. “Thank you...SO much.”
“Hey Ponch, it’s your turn to
do traffic,” Jon said as he tried to get his partner’s attention off the attractive
girl. “Besides, what would Mary Jo
say?”
Ponch shot his partner a glare.
“She’ll probably stand me up anyway.
Come on, Jon! I’ll buy you lunch...”
“And do my reports for the next
week?” Jon said with a grin.
“Two days,” Ponch countered.
“Three.”
“Deal.”
Jon chuckled and carefully moved
into drivers’ lines of sight to direct them around the accident until they
could clear it up.
Ponch returned his attention
to the accident and took the crowbar from the man who was, at that moment,
clumsily trying to get the door open.
*******************************
Mike Thomas was tired. He had been up all night cramming for his exams
at UCLA and he was starting to wonder if he’d be able to stay awake long enough
to finish the drive to school.
The answer was no.
*******************************
Jon was directing traffic when
he noticed the car veer towards him at 55 mph.
He just had time enough to notice that the driver seemed to be asleep
at the wheel before the car hit him.
******************************
“Oh dear GOD!” the redhead in
the MG screamed as she saw what was going to happen to the attractive blond
officer.
Ponch swung around just in time
to see his partner go airborne.
“JON!!!!” Ponch screamed as his partner went flying over
the car to land hard on the ground, where he rolled a few times before being
tossed off the bumper of another car that was unable to avoid hitting him.
The car that hit Jon as he went
rolling into traffic stopped and the driver got out in hysterics.
“I couldn’t stop! He came from out of nowhere! Oh God! What have I done?” She was babbling
uncontrollably.
*****************************
Mike Thomas snapped to attention
as he heard something hit his car and felt the jolt. ‘Hope
that doesn’t leave too big a dent,’ he thought to himself. ‘Don’t
know how I’d explain to Terry how his car got trashed - especially since he
doesn’t know I borrowed it!’
Then, without bothering to see
what he hit, he swerved back into his lane and continued driving towards UCLA.
*****************************
Just as Ponch was vacillating
between his radio and his partner, Grossman rode up on his bike. Ponch took that as a sign and bolted for his
partner yelling at Grossman at the top of his voice.
“GROSSIE! JON’S DOWN!
CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE! NOW!”
Grossie’s eyes widened as he
saw the motionless form in the middle of the road and reached for his radio.
***************************
Ponch came skidding up to his
partner’s limp form and dropped to his knees.
Jon was lying on his side and Ponch hesitated to move him...until he
noticed Jon didn’t appear to be breathing.
He quickly took off his gloves and felt for a pulse. There was none.
Gingerly, he rolled Jon onto
his back and removed his helmet. Then
he tilted his partner’s head back, opened his mouth, pinched his nose and
blew four short breath’s into Jon’s mouth before beginning CPR.
“1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15,”
he counted compressions out loud as he worked.
“Come on partner,” he said as he moved to blow into Jon’s mouth. “Don’t do this to me!”
“Ambulance is on the way,” Grossie
came running up. “How’s...”
He trailed off as he saw Ponch frantically pounding on his partner’s
chest.
“He’s dead, Grossie! That’s how he is! That bastard killed my partner!”
Ponch looked up briefly with tears streaming down his face.
“You’re not giving up on him
yet!” Grossie ran forward and knelt down beside Ponch. “Come on, we’ve got to keep this up until the
medics get here. I’ll take half.”
Ponch nodded as he moved down
to blow into Jon’s mouth. Grossie
took over the compressions, counting out 5 before Ponch took a breath for
his partner.
Just then, the men’s sergeant,
Joe Getraer pulled up on his motor. When
he saw the two men doing CPR on the third, he couldn’t tell who the victim
was immediately; until he saw the blond baton. He suddenly got a sinking feeling as he saw Ponch and Grossie not
having any luck reviving the fallen officer.
He went to assist before he realized that no one was directing traffic
and that cars were backing up as the rubber-neckers drove slowly by to watch
the desperate first-aid efforts.
Joe forced himself to concentrate
on traffic, but it was an uphill battle. He wanted to run over and help his men.
“What the hell happened?” He yelled over his shoulder.
“This guy came out of nowhere
and hit him!” the redhead yelled from where she was still trapped in her car.
“He just veered straight into him and then kept going like nothing
happened!”
“Yeah,” the guy from the pickup
truck yelled over his shoulder as he continued to work on the woman’s car
door. “Knocked ‘im straight into the
path of another car.”
“And I hit him!” the woman was
getting hysterical again. “I couldn’t
stop! He just came from out of nowhere!
I’ve killed him! What have I done? I killed him.”
“Lady,” the man with the crowbar
turned to her. “You didn’t hit him
that hard. Just winged him. The other guy did all the damage. I saw it.”
“Did you get the license number
of that other car?” Getraer briefly turned his attention away from traffic.
“I got the first few letters.
He was movin’ too fast for me to get the whole thing.”
Just then, much to everyone’s
relief, the paramedics arrived and relieved Ponch and Grossie of their task.
Ponch moved to stand up to move out of the way, but he found his legs
wouldn’t cooperate. The best he could do was scoot out of the way
and watch the battle for his partner’s life take a new, hopefully more effective
direction.
Within just a few minutes, it
became clear that Jon wasn’t going to improve lying on the pavement like he
was at that moment. The paramedics
decided to ‘wrap and run’. Grossie
had his hands full pulling Ponch out of their path.
************************************
Less than an hour later, the
emergency room’s waiting area was filled with CHP officers. Grossman, Bariksa and Bonnie were pacing, passing
each other with such precision, one would swear they had rehearsed it. Ponch was sitting on a chair with Jon’s helmet
in his lap. The impact of the crash
had cracked it all the way through. Every
time Ponch looked at it, he realized it could have been his partner’s head
and at that thought, would start shaking
again.
“Hey, Jon’s strong,” Getraer’s
voice cut through his reverie. “He’s
gonna be okay.”
“Sarge, he was dead! His heart had stopped! How okay could he be?”
“I overheard the paramedics as
they brought him in. They had gotten
his heart started again. Frank, you
have to keep a positive outlook. You
can’t give up on him like this. He
wouldn’t give up on you.”
“Do you know what it’s like to
have to do CPR on your best friend?”
“No, Frank. I don’t and quite frankly, I don’t think I
want to know. But I think I understand
where you’re coming from and you’re gonna drive yourself crazy like this.”
“It’s just hard, you know?” Ponch
looked up at his sergeant with frightened eyes. “He’s the best friend I got and if I lose him...”
“Frank, just keep saying to yourself
‘Jon needs me to be strong for him’. Because
he does. Okay?”
Ponch gave him a pale imitation
of a smile and sat back in the chair.
********************************
“Ponch, wake up,” Grossie’s voice
came from out of nowhere.
Ponch started and sat up. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. “What’s goin’ on? Is it Jon? Is he okay?”
Grossie shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but the doctor just came
in. We thought you might want to hear
what he had to say.”
“I’ll say!” Ponch leapt out of
his chair.
Ponch took one look at the doctor’s
face and knew.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
The doctor dropped his eyes to
the floor before looking up into the eyes of one very scared motor officer.
“I’m so sorry. There was nothing we could do. The damage was just too much.”
Ponch felt a knife go through
his heart. His legs gave out from
under him and he fell back, missing the chair by a few inches and ending up
on the floor with Jon’s helmet still in his hands.
“No,” he whispered quietly.
He clutched the helmet to his chest, put his head down and sobbed.
***********************************
The examining room was eerily
quiet as Ponch entered. He stared
for a long time at the sheet-covered body before moving forward. He gently pulled the sheet down from the head
and looked at the peaceful face of his partner and best friend.
“They said I could come in and
say goodbye,” Ponch struggled to keep his voice steady, as though he were
afraid that Jon would worry about him. “But
how do you do that? I mean, how can
I say goodbye to you, Jon? You were
my best friend. The only one who always
believed in me. How can I hit the
streets again without you by my side?”
Jon had no answers for his grieving
friend.
Ponch took a deep steadying breath.
He could feel himself starting to cry again.
He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked down at the still figure
on the bed. He leaned down and gently kissed Jon’s forehead
before whispering, “Bye Partner.”
He replaced the sheet and slowly
walked out of the room.
**********************************
Ponch looked out at the sea of
faces in the crowded funeral home. He
recognized friends, fellow officers, and some family (including his own mother).
He took a deep breath and began
speaking.
“We’re here today to say good-bye
to Jon Baker; one of the best Highway Patrol Officers ever to ride a motor.
I...I had a speech prepared, but it doesn’t seem like enough.
I mean, it’s all flowery nice things that people say at funerals about
people they hardly know.” he chuckled mirthlessly as he looked at his notecards. “The priest’s speech is probably really close
to this. Jon Baker was my best friend.
I know everyone who knew him has a memory of Jon that they’d like to
hang on to. I’ve got about a hundred thousand. He was a good man and a great friend and I know I’ll probably never
find another one like him again. The
day of the accident, I was supposed to be the one directing traffic.
I convinced him to trade places with me and, like the friend he was,
he did. It should be me in that box today. It should’ve been me...”
Ponch looked out at the crowded
funeral home and suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m sorry.
I can’t...he’s...”
Getraer was out of his seat and
standing with an arm around the distraught man within seconds. “It’s okay, Frank. Come on, let’s go sit down.”
Ponch nodded glumly and allowed
himself to be guided to a seat.
******************************
“Ponch, wake up,” Grossie’s voice
came from out of nowhere.
Ponch started and sat up. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. “What’s goin’ on? Is it Jon? Is he okay?”
Grossie shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but the doctor just came
in. We thought you might want to hear
what he had to say.”
"I'll say!" Ponch leapt
out of his chair.
Suddenly, a dreadful feeling
of deja vu swept over Ponch. He looked
over at the doctor and said, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
The doctor dropped his eyes to
the floor before looking up into the eyes of one very scared motor officer.
“No, he’s not dead. We managed to get him almost stabilized. That’s still not a good thing. He’s in serious condition and quite frankly
will be lucky to survive the night.”
Ponch wasn’t listening by that
time. All he heard was ‘he’s not dead’
and that was enough for the moment. His
legs gave out from under him and he fell back, missing the chair by a few
inches and ending up on the floor with Jon’s helmet still in his hands.
He looked up and whispered quietly, “Thank you.”
*******************************
Mike Thomas walked into the campus
coffee shop and sat down. He turned
and saw a group of people huddled around a small radio. He got up and walked over.
“What’s going on?” he asked the
group.
A girl looked up, “Some nut job
ran over a Chippy who was directing traffic on the freeway.”
Mike didn’t make the connection.
“Wow, they know who it was?”
“Nah,” another guy piped up with
a dirty look on his face. “The creep
just kept driving like nothin’ happened.
I mean, I hate cops as much as the next guy, but he didn’t deserve
that.”
“When did it happen?”
The girl looked at her watch.
“Probably about 4 hours ago or so...every cop in the state is on the
lookout for a navy blue compact...”
“Navy blue compact?” Mike asked.
He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.
“Yeah, they said the guy was
going too fast for anyone to get a make or model. One guy DID manage to get a few letters off the license plate.
They’re looking for anyone who might’ve witnessed the accident.”
“Uh...” Mike suddenly knew what
it was he had hit on his way to class. “Is
he gonna be okay?”
The girl shrugged. “They said he was in serious condition. In hospital talk, that usually means he’s gonna
die.”
“Oh God,” Mike whispered. “What have I done?”
“Hey, Buddy,” one of the other
guys around the radio said as he looked at Mike’s suddenly-ashen face. “You okay?”
“Uh...” Mike suddenly had to
get out of there. “Yeah. I...I just need some air. See you guys later!”
He bolted for his car and when
he found it, immediately began inspecting the front fender where he knew the
(at the time) unidentified object had impacted. He felt his stomach fall to his feet and his heart leap to his throat
as he found the small shred of light brown fabric caught in the hood of the
car.
***********************************
The small room was eerily still
as Ponch entered. The only sound in
the room was the quiet, steady beeping of the heart monitor and the gentle
hiss of the respirator. The fair-haired
figure on the bed was dwarfed by all the equipment surrounding him.
“Hey partner,” Ponch said softly.
“You know you scared the hell outta me out there today.
I think I aged about 20 years today.”
Jon was unrepentant.
“Of course, Mary Jo said she
liked her men more mature,” Ponch attempted to lighten the mood, not wanting
his partner to get upset.
“That redhead in the car is doin’
fine. She broke her ankle, so she
won’t be dancing anytime soon. And
before you say it, I’m not going to ask her out. Apparently, the guy she hit beat me to it.” Ponch chuckled. “Can you believe that? She totals the back end of his car and he still
wants to go out with her. Of course,
she’s awful cute. I probably would
too even if she totaled my ca...well, maybe not if she totaled my car.”
If Jon had been awake, he might
have laughed. As it was, he remained
stubbornly silent.
“That other lady that hit you
after that creep drove off has been really worried. She was convinced she killed you. As many times as anyone tells her it wasn’t her fault, she won’t
listen. Don’t suppose you’d consider
waking up and telling her not to blame herself, huh?”
Jon decided to hold off on making
that decision.
“Hey, you know, you got a really
cute nurse lookin’ after you. If you
want a crack at her, you’ll have to wake up before I decide to ask her out.”
Ponch watched his partner for
a few minutes; allowing himself to be reassured by the gentle rise and fall
of Jon’s chest.
“You know, I fell asleep in the
waiting room and I dreamed that you were dead. Jon...man...that was a nightmare I don’t want to live for real.
You hear me? You gotta wake up! I don’t think I could go through that again. I mean, yeah, it was just a dream. But it was so damned real! Don’t leave me like that, huh Partner?”
Jon made no promises.
************************************
Mike Thomas was sitting in the
dark when his roommate Terry Henderson got home.
“Hey Mike,” Terry called good-naturedly.
“Are we in the dark for a reason?
You forget to send the check to the electric company or something?”
“I like the dark. I had a headache.” Mike answered quietly.
“Oh, sorry,” Terry said, dropping
his voice to a whisper. “Hey, you
take my car to be washed today?”
“Uh...yeah. I...uh...borrowed it to take to class, so I
figured I’d get it washed for ya.”
Mike didn’t mention that he had
driven the car through no less than 6 car washes on the way home. The line
from MacBeth running through his mind the entire time: ‘Out, out, damned spot!’
It didn’t work for Lady MacBeth and it hadn’t worked for Mike Thomas.
He still felt sure that there was blood on the hood.
***********************************
Ponch looked up from where he
was filling out the incident report.
“Hey Bonnie, any luck tracking
that driver?”
Bonnie sighed as she sat down.
“Nope. The numbers we got off the license narrow it down to about 5,500
blue compact cars in the greater Los Angeles area.”
“You’re kidding!” Ponch groaned.
Bonnie shook her blonde hair.
“I wish I was. That’s narrowed down from 83,203 blue compacts.”
Ponch gave a rueful sigh. “I guess when you put it that way, nice job.”
“Yeah,” Bonnie said with a decided
lack of enthusiasm.
“Yeah.”
Just then, Molly Carron walked
in. Ponch looked up and gave her as
big a smile as he was capable at the moment (which wasn’t very big if you
want to get technical about it.).
“Hey Molly, how’s life on the
switchboard?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk
to Getraer about. He in his office?”
“I think he’s at the hospital
checking on Jon,” Bonnie answered. “Why?”
“I just got the weirdest call,”
the petite brunette said as she plopped into a chair next to Ponch. “It sounded like a kid...well, teenager...he
just kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I didn’t see him’.”
Ponch sat up at this. “You think it was the guy who hit Jon?”
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to talk to Getraer.”
“It sounded like a kid?” Bonnie
asked.
“Yeah, I guess that’d be about
the way I’d put it. It was kinda hard
to tell though. He was absolutely
sobbing. If it was the guy who hit
Jon, it sounded like he felt awfully guilty about it.”
“He should feel guilty about
it,” Ponch said darkly. “If I ever
get my hands on him, he’ll wish he ONLY felt guilty.”
“Ponch, if it WAS a kid, he probably
got scared,” Bonnie said. “You can’t
blame the kid for panicking.”
“Yes I can,” Ponch said angrily.
*********************************
Ponch was walking down the hospital
corridor when he noticed an awful lot of medical personnel and equipment rapidly
entering his partner’s room. A cold
hand gripped his heart as he ran forward. He stopped just outside the door and watched,
petrified as his partner violently convulsed on the bed.
Ponch stopped a nurse as she
was leaving the room. “What happened?”
“What’s it look like?” She said
impatiently. “I’ve got work to do
if you want them to save your friend.”
Ponch was left standing, gaping
like a gagging goldfish as he watched his best friend shudder, muscles drawn
so tightly it was a wonder his bones didn’t snap. The heart monitor was beeping at an alarming
rate and every breath Jon took made him sound like an asthmatic who had just
run a marathon.
The nurse that had run out of
the room now returned with a loaded syringe.
The doctor grabbed it and injected the contents into Jon’s IV line. Gradually, the spasms eased and Jon’s body
relaxed, his breathing and heart rate slowly returning to normal.
Gradually, the medical personnel
trickled out of the room. Ponch grabbed
a doctor on his way out.
“What the hell happened?”
The doctor shrugged. “Convulsion. Not really sure why it happens, but it sometimes does happen in
comatose patients.”
“He’s gonna be okay though, right?”
The doctor sighed. “Long as he doesn’t have any more episodes
like that, he’s got a shot.”
As the doctor moved on, Ponch
started to enter Jon’s room, only to realize he was shaking almost too badly
to walk. He leaned against the wall
just outside the door and stood, breathing deeply and silently thanking God
and whatever other deity he could think of for his partner’s life.
“Ponch? Is something wrong? Is it Jon? What happened” Grossie’s voice broke through his reverie.
“Grossie? No, he’s okay for now. He had a convulsion just as I got here. It kinda scared me. I’m just standing here trying to avoid a heart
attack before I go in.”
“Just KINDA scared you?”
“Okay,” Ponch gave him a rueful
grin. “Scared the hell out of me. Better?”
“Not really. But it’s probably more accurate than ‘kinda’.”
Ponch gave his friend a more
honest smile as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”
************************************
“Mom? It’s me,” Mike Thomas said into the phone.
“Mom, I wanna come home. I don’t like LA after all.”
“What’s the matter, Sweetie?”
his mother’s voice floated over the long-distance connection. “When I talked to you last week, you were having
the time of your life! Did something
happen?”
“Yes...No...Mom, I just want
to come home. Okay?”
“What’s wrong? Please talk to me, Mike! What happened?”
“I can’t, Mom. Please, just let me come home!”
His mother sighed. “Alright.
I’ll send you a plane ticket in the morning.”
“Thanks Mom.”
***********************************
‘In
today’s news: Still no word on the
hit-and-run driver who put a CHP motor officer in the hospital. Officer Jon
Baker is still listed in serious condition at Memorial Hospital. The Highway Patrol is offering a reward for
any information leading to the arrest of the driver. They are looking for a navy blue compact car with the first three
numbers of the license plate 231. If
anyone has any information on this car, please call the number on the bottom
of the screen.’
Terry Henderson was watching
the news report. He chuckled to himself
as he thought of his own car - a navy blue compact with a license starting
231.
‘Good
luck to them!’
he said to himself. ‘They’re never gonna find it! I mean, how many cars must have the first three
numbers alike and on a navy...blue...’
Suddenly, the scene from the
other day flashed through his head.
“Hey,
you take my car to be washed today?”
“Uh...yeah. I...uh...borrowed it to take to class, so I
figured I’d get it washed for ya.”
“Oh Mike, what have you done?”
he whispered.
*********************************
Ponch was sitting listlessly
in the breakroom staring at a cold cup of coffee. Getraer poked his head in.
“Frank, I thought I told you
to take some time off. What are you
doing here?”
“The doctors were going to try
to do some repair work on Jon. I couldn’t
just sit around and wait; I was a nervous wreck.”
The older man sighed as he stepped
fully into the room. “Yeah, I know
what you mean. How long ago they take
him up?”
Ponch looked at the clock.
“Couple of hours. I told ‘em to call me here as soon as there
was anything to tell.”
As if on cue, Harlan stuck his
head into the room. “Ponch, switchboard
told me to tell you to pick up line 2.”
Ponch fairly dove for the phone.
“Hello? Yes, this is...uh-huh...he’s what? No, that’s gotta be a mistake. He can’t be...no. No! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Ponch picked up the phone and
threw it across the room, where it made a black mark on the wall before clattering
loudly to the floor.
At the commotion, several officers
stopped in to see what the problem was. When they saw Ponch sitting at the table sobbing with his head down,
they didn’t have to ask what was wrong. They
knew. They had lost one of their own.
Getraer had watched his motor
officer on the phone and moved quickly forward to comfort him. He sat down next to Ponch and put his arm around
the shaking shoulders.
After a few minutes, Ponch sat
up and looked his sergeant in the eye. “What
do I do now, Sarge?”
For once, Getraer had no answer.
He just reached out and pulled Ponch into a bear hug.
Bonnie came over and put her arms around both of them, Harlan followed
suit and soon there was a comforting group hug going on in the break room.
Gradually, one by one, the officers
stood up and stepped back. Getraer
took a deep breath. Then turned to
Harlan.
“When you go back out to the
garage,” he paused for a minute and then said quietly, “Bring the flag to half mast, would you?”
Harlan froze for a long minute
before finally taking a deep breath, nodding and heading out the door.
*********************************
Terry Henderson pulled up to
the highway patrol headquarters just in time to see the flag coming down to
half-mast. Realizing that would mean his friend could
add manslaughter to his hit-and-run charge, he turned around and headed home
again.
*********************************
When he got home, Terry found
his roommate packing.
“You hit the cop in my car, didn’t
you?” He said it more as a statement of fact than a question.
Mike looked up with scared eyes.
“I swear I didn’t see him!”
“Why didn’t you stop when you
hit him then?”
“I didn’t realize it was a person
I hit. I just figured some truck lost
a box or something.”
“A cop looks nothing like a box,”
Terry answered coldly. “How could
you miss that?”
“I...well...I...”
“You...what?” Terry asked, folding
his arms over his chest.
“I kinda fell asleep at the wheel.
The jolt when I hit him was what woke me up, but I didn’t see what
I hit...”
“You didn’t stop to look?”
“I was late for class! I figured whatever it was hopefully wouldn’t
leave too big a dent and nothing would come of it.”
“Oh something came of it!” Terry
stared hard at Mike. “I drove past
the Highway Patrol today. I was gonna
go and plead your case for you. Tell
them you were just a scared kid, didn’t mean to run. But you know what I saw when I got there?”
“What?” Mike asked...not sure
if he really wanted to know.
“They were lowering the flag
to half mast. You know what that means,
don’t you?”
“Oh God,” Mike whispered as he
sank down onto his bed. “I killed
him, didn’t I?”
“That’s usually what a flag at
half mast means. You killed a cop
and ran from the scene! They are NOT
gonna go easy on you, my friend. Not
in a million years.”
“I know, that’s why I’m going
home.”
“You’re what?” Terry looked at
his roommate incredulously. “They’re
gonna find you eventually, no matter where you go. You know that.”
“Yeah, maybe, maybe not. You’re not actually gonna tell them it was me,
are you?”
Terry looked at his roommate’s
scared expression. After a long moment,
he sighed. “Nah...at least not until
you’re well out of town.”
“Thanks.”
*************************************
Getraer drove Ponch to the hospital.
He knew Ponch was in no shape to drive.
As they got to the appropriate department, they stepped up to the counter. A nurse looked up and smiled.
“Can I help you?”
Ponch opened his mouth to speak,
but nothing came out. He sighed and
looked at the ceiling, fighting the urge to cry. Getraer spoke up.
“We’re here to make arrangements
for Jon Baker.”
The nurse’s eyes widened briefly
before she said, “Uh...could you hold on for a minute.”
Joe nodded and put a comforting
arm over Ponch’s shoulder. The nurse
made a phone call.
*************************************
“Are you here for Jon Baker?”
a voice came from behind them.
“Yes,” Joe said stepping up,
hand outstretched. “I’m Joe Getraer,
Jon’s supervisor and this is Frank Poncherllo, Jon’s partner.”
The doctor smiled and shook his
hand. “I’m Dr. Jeff Fish.” He indicated the bashful-looking nurse beside
him, “And this is Gloria Gayhart.”
Joe smiled politely at Gloria.
Dr. Fish pulled her out from behind him where she had drifted and shoved
her forward.
“Go on,” he said sternly. “Tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Getraer asked
him as he shot a brief glance at Ponch’s direction. The dark-haired officer didn’t appear to hear.
“I was the one who called you
about Officer Baker’s death,” she said quietly, looking as if she were about
to burst into tears at any second.
“Yes?”
“Well, I kinda got it mixed up.”
Ponch turned on her, “What do
you mean? Mixed up?”
“Well, his heart had stopped
on the table and they were having trouble getting it started again. And then Dr. Fish said, ‘okay, you wanna call
time of death?’”
“Yeah?” Getraer said with a concerned
look at Ponch. “What’re you saying.”
“I apparently need to learn the
difference between ‘you wanna call time of death?’ and ‘okay, call time of
death.’ My phone call was a bit premature.”
“You mean Jon’s...” Ponch couldn’t
say the word. He was afraid it would
shatter the hope to have the doctor contradict him.
“Alive?” Dr. Fish said as he
glared at Gloria. “Yes, he is. We agreed to try one more time after she left
the room.”
“Alive!” Ponch whispered excitedly.
Suddenly he knew how Dr. Watson must have felt when Sherlock Holmes
appeared in his study after his supposed death at Reichenbach Falls.
His vision greyed out and he crumpled slowly to the floor - fainting
for the first time in his life.
***********************************
When Ponch opened his eyes, he
was on a gurney staring up at the worried face of Getraer.
“Frank? You okay?”
“What happened?”
“You passed out.”
“Why would I have...” then he
remembered. “Jon...is he...?”
Joe smiled. “He certainly is. Still unconscious, but he’s alive. The doctors say if he lives the next 24 hours, his chances will
improve greatly.”
Ponch chuckled as he struggled
to sit up. “Why is it doctors always
say ‘the next 24 hours will decide it’? It’s
so cliche. Like there’s someone out
there writing dialogue for doctors and that’s their favorite line!”
“Cliche or not, Frank, it’s true.”
“Can we see him yet?”
“I think so. We’ll have to ask the doctor. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“You’d have to kill me to stop
me.”
Getraer chuckled. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Come on, Frank. Let’s go see that partner of yours.”
Ponch grinned and headed for
the door. He stopped with his hand
on the doorhandle. He turned around and looked sheepishly at Joe. “Uh, Sarge?
You’re not gonna tell anyone I fainted, are you?”
******************************************
“Hey partner,” Ponch said quietly
as he and Getraer entered the room. “Man,
you gotta stop scaring me like that. They told me you were dead and this time it wasn’t a dream and then
you were alive and then...well...just wake up and we’ll talk about it.”
Getraer chuckled. “Yeah Jon, you should have seen your cool partner
here when they told him you were alive after all...I never thought I’d see
the day when the cool Frank Poncherello would ever...”
“Sarge! You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”
Joe laughed. “I don’t think he can really hear us anyway.
Either way, it’s not often that someone like you passes out.”
“Sarge!” Ponch pointed over his
shoulder at his sleeping partner. “They
say people in comas are aware of what goes on around them. Man, now I’ll never hear the end of it!”
Joe was staring just over Ponch’s
shoulder with an ever widening grin. “Uh
Ponch...he’s not in a coma.”
“What’re you...”
Getraer just pointed towards
the bed and said, “Turn around.”
Ponch spun around and saw that
his partner’s eyes were open and he was watching the two men argue.
“Jon?” Ponch’s voice was barely a whisper. “You okay man?”
Jon didn’t answer; which was
understandable seeing as how he had a tube shoved down his throat, helping
him breathe. But there was a definite
smile in his eyes.
“Good to have you back, Pal,”
Getraer came up next to the bed and put a gentle hand on Jon’s shoulder.
Jon closed his eyes and he drifted
back to sleep.
Joe and Ponch looked at each
other with matching grins.
“We oughta go tell the doctor
that he woke up,” Getraer said as he moved toward the door.
“You go, Sarge,” Ponch answered
as he planted himself in a chair beside Jon’s bed. “I’m just gonna hang out here for a while.”
Getraer smiled again as he walked
out the door.
****************************************
‘In
today’s news: It’s been two weeks now since California Highway Patrol Officer
Jon Baker was struck by an unknown car while directing traffic. The reward has been raised to $10,000 for any
information leading to the arrest of the hit and run driver. Officer Baker is currently in stable condition
at Memorial Hospital.’
Terry Henderson looked at the
envelope in his hands. With a sigh,
he put it in his pocket and headed out to his car.
***************************************
Ponch was sitting at his usual
place beside Jon’s bed, happily listening to his partner complain about how
much he hated hospitals when Getraer walked in. He did not look happy.
“What’s up Sarge?” Ponch said.
“Something wrong?”
“Yeah, Sarge,” Jon said. “What’s wrong?”
He held up the envelope. “This letter was just delivered to headquarters.
I think you oughta read it.”
Ponch took the envelope with
a curious expression - an expression that darkened to anger as he read.
“Ponch?” Jon said, watching his
friend’s expression. “What’s the matter?”
“Go on, read it to him,” Joe
said. “It was addressed to him anyway.”
Ponch took a deep breath in an
attempt to calm the wave of emotion threatening to swamp him. Finally, he looked back at the letter and began
to read:
Dear
Officer Baker,
You
don’t know me. I’ll just call myself
Mike. You don’t need my last name. I’m the one that hit you. I wanted to attempt to explain myself and tell
you how sorry I am for what I did.
I
was a student at UCLA and was driving my roommate’s car that day. He didn’t know I had borrowed it. I had been up all night studying the night
before and I guess I fell asleep at the wheel.
I didn’t realize that I had actually hit a person until much later.
I
wish I could do something to make up for everything I’ve put you and your
friends through, but I can’t. All
I can do is say I’m sorry. And I am. Very sorry.
I’m
leaving Los Angeles. By the time you
read this, I’ll have been gone for a couple of weeks at least. I’ve gone home to try to put my life together,
something I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do. I also promise never to return to California.
Once
again, let me just say I’m so very, very sorry. What I did was horrible and I probably should turn myself in, but
I’m only 19. I don’t want to spend
the rest of my life in jail for falling asleep behind the wheel (something
I’ll never let happen again).
Good
luck with everything. I hope you are
better soon.
Sincerely
and with apologies,
“That
little punk!” Ponch spat. “Can we
trace him?”
Getraer sighed as he ran a hand
through his hair. “I doubt it.
Nobody got a good look at the guy who delivered the letter, we’re trying
to run some fingerprints now, but if this IS a kid with no previous record¼”
“What about the guy who delivered
it?” Jon spoke up. “Maybe he can be
traced?”
“That’s what we’re hoping for
now,” Getraer said. We’re checking
the list of cars for people who live near the campus or are owned by people
who are students. But I’ll tell you
something¼if this guy also has no record, we’re looking for a needle in a
haystack here.”
Ponch turned and punched down
on the bed next to Jon’s which was (fortunately) empty at that moment.
“Sonovabitch!” He yelled savagely. “That guy’s gonna get away with hittin’ a cop
- nearly killing him - and there’s nothing I can do! All I want right now is to just...”
“Hey, Ponch - Calm down,” Jon’s
voice broke through his rant. “It
was a scared kid. I’m not happy about
what he did either, but there’s no point in getting all worked up over it. If we find him, fine. If not...well, I’m not gonna have a partner
that drove himself crazy over something he couldn’t change. Get me?”
“Jon, Man...” Ponch looked at
his partner with tears in his eyes. “I
thought I’d lost you! Do you have
any idea how scared I was that I was gonna lose my best friend? And then this kid comes along and says ‘oops,
my bad. I’m leaving town to get on
with my life’. What if you had died?
How was I supposed to get on with my life?”
“You would’ve gotten over it,”
Jon said firmly. “I would’ve come
back to haunt you until you did.”
“If you woulda come back to haunt
me, I’d just not get over it and you’d be stuck with me for the rest of my
life.”
Jon chuckled and then winced
as the action caused his cracked ribs and abused lungs to complain. “Man, don’t make me laugh. It hurts!”
“At least you’re alive to feel
it hurt,” Ponch said seriously. Then
he grinned. “Hey Partner, as soon
as you get outta here, we’ll have to celebrate!
We’ll have a party at my place!”
“Uh, Frank, I don’t know if he’s
gonna be up to a party as soon as he gets out,” Getraer said.
“Yeah, well,” Ponch grinned at
his sergeant. “I’ll be up to a party
when he gets out!”
********************************
Two months later, Mike Thomas
went out to get his mail. There were
two letters for him with California postmarks.
He opened the envelope on which he recognized Terry’s handwriting.
Dear
Mike,
Thought
you’d like to know, the cops traced me to my car. They know about you. Don’t
know if they can get enough evidence to come get you, but they know who you
are.
Good
luck!
Terry
With shaking hands, Mike opened
the other letter.
Mike,
I
forgive you.
Officer
Jon Baker
Mike sat down on the curb next
to the mailbox and sobbed.
End.
Author’s
note: In real life, they couldn’t trace the kid who wrote the letter and the
policeman actually died. I decided
I’d change the ending just slightly. That’s
the nice thing about fiction...
