Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-35711173-20190326080033

I'm sorry for not being around much. I had some health issues.

Your reviews would be very much appreciated and will be invaluable as always.

--

The first thing Bob Williams knew when he woke was that it was going to be another perfect day. April had brought him in espresso coffee in bed, made just the way he liked it.

After his brain was moving at full speed, Maria and Anna, his two daughters entered, their hair in perfect golden pigtails and already dressed in their school uniform. "Love you, Daddy." "Hurry, children," April said, herding them out to their family car, which drove the children to school.

He went to the bathroom to clean up, smiling at the crisply ironed pressed US Public Health Service that was waiting for him. After showering and shaving, he grabbed his briefcase and headed into the kitchen. April was flipping through recipes on her tablet. He kissed her gently. "Hi, gorgeous," he told her. "You are the most wonderful wife in the world."

She handed him his kale banana protein smoothie in a large travel mug. "I know how much you enjoy your field days. I just wanted to make it extra special.  What would you like for dinner?"

"Every night with you is extra special. Surprise me."

She smiled slyly. "I intend to, as soon as the girls are in bed."

He sat in the doggie van as it drove him to his destination. That's what the girls called it anyway. It only had one bench seat in the front, but there was a security partition between the front seat and the back that made it ideal for taking Thor and Sif to the dog park. The office computer had chosen and downloaded to his tablet, the same as any freshly commissioned ensign. Most captains over field divisions stayed behind their desks. Bob believed in leading from the front and tried to spend one day a week in the field.

His morning cases were at St. Mary's Regional Medical Center. Some of the doctors at the staff entrance gave him nervous glances and hostile stares, but he was used to it. The hospital security staff knew him and waved him around the line. He smiled and thanked them. It made the doctors nervous when the metal detector sang.

Bob went up the elevator to the Oncology department to his first case at the hospital. His name was Francis Anthony Czernwinski. Tony was an Afghan War veteran who had served with distinction for forty years with the Reno police department. Now he was a dried husk, lying in a hospital bed with stage four pancreatic cancer. Only one final gift was possible for Tony Czernwinski, and Bob intended to give it to him.

As per the law, the computer notified Tony's closest next of kin. Angela Grabowska sat, holding her father’s hand. Bob was a consummate professional who always studied the next of kin before going in. Understanding their circumstances made it much easier to relate.

He went to Tony and looked into his dull eyes. “How are you doing,” Bob asked.

“Pain. Make it stop.”

“That is what I am here for.”

“Please,” Mrs. Grabowska said. “May we talk … outside.”

“We could, but that would leave out the person who is most involved with this decision.”

“There is. If your father sent me away. I would be required to do so unless he called me back. But think of what that would mean. As much as your father’s medical expenses are, we estimate he will exhaust the health care savings fund he earned over a lifetime in less than four months. Based on our experience, we think he will live for seven months. If you as next of kin accept responsibility for him after those funds are exhausted, you have to pay for his medical bills.”

“But I want my Papa.”

That's very selfish of you, Mrs. Grabowska. Please think of your children. You have two fine daughters. Their teachers say both want to go to college. You are behind on your house payments already. If you pay for hospitalization through the bitter end, you will lose your house and be bankrupt. Accept this final gift from your father. Let him cash out on what's left in his medical fund and pay off your mortgage so his grandchildren will be able to live with you at home and get their college education.”

She held her hands over her face. "This shouldn't be happening." "No, it shouldn't. Your father was a good cop and a faithful party leader. He loves you, and he loves this country.  Let him have a hero's death, not for you to sentence him to months of slow torture. One final sacrifice to crown his life and give your children a chance at the life they deserve."

"Stop the pain," he coughed. "Now."

She looked at her father and then at Bob with sad resignation.

"Mrs. Grabowska, is there anyone else here who would like to attend?"

"Let me get the girls."

When the two of them were alone, Bob double checked that his recorder was on. Everything had to be done legally and properly. "Tony Czernwinski, do you want to cash out now?"

"Yes. Now."

"How do you want your cash out distributed?"

"Angela's house. Pay it off. Give her the rest." He struggled to speak, then took a breath. "My funeral."

"You will be given a full State funeral, with 21 gun salute and bagpipes and internment in the Field of Heroes."

"My monument?"

"Lifesize, I guarantee it."

"The police one carrying the little girl, my face and Angela's."

Bob nodded. "Of course. The perfect choice."

Angela returned with two girls in the latest ugly teen-ager fashion. Both had tears in their eyes. "We love you, Dziadek," they said as they hugged him.

"I love you," Tony wheezed. "Time to go."

One of the girls turned to Bob. "Will it hurt much?"

Bob unwrapped a package with two syringes. “Not a bit,” he said as he injected the first hypodermic into the IV line. Within moments, the pain left Anthony Czernwinski’s face. He looked peaceful. “My duty is to end suffering. Your grandfather is now in a deep coma.” He pulled the syringe out and administered a next one. The monitors in the room rang. A nurse came in and switched them off, checked her patient and noted the time.

His morning was successful. He released three more people from their suffering and then ate April's avocado sprouts sandwiches while he filled out the paperwork.

It took less than half an hour to get to his next destination, Lois Allen Elementary School in Sparks, probably the worst school in town. He studied the case files on the way over. The student's name was Miguel Garcia. Bob called to verify with the principal that Miguel was on campus. Principal Pacheco and Manuel's teacher had opened the service request. After reading the file, he wondered why they had waited so long.

The meeting was going to be held in the classroom of Miguel's teacher, Mrs. Torres. By now, her class had let out, and all the students were gone. Bob paced back and forth. He hated interventions of school students with a passion. As Bob nervously circled the room, Ms. Pacheco sat at Mrs. Torres's desk, idly playing with her bleached blonde hair as she flipped through messages on her phone. Mrs. Torres quietly sat in one of the small chairs, nursing a rather spectacular black eye. She looked fragile and depressed.

Eventually, two school guards wrestled Miguel through the door. One guard's nametag read Martinez and the other read Cooper. School guards were often either worn out and retired military trying to get some easy money or college students who wanted to get enough experience that they could enroll in the Police Academy without actually enlisting in the Army. It was clear that Martinez was the former and Cooper was the latter. Neither was up to the task. Miguel kicked and snapped at the guards as he growled and shrieked like a beast. A toothpick thin woman with dank, patchy hair pounded on the guard's second chance vests as she followed them. "What is this," she said, advertising to the world her decayed meth mouth. "The principal said I had to come. What are you doing to my Miguel?"

"Sit down," Bob said firmly.

"You can't do this," she babbled. "Let him go."

Bob shrugged and then nodded. The guards released him and withdrew to the counter behind the teacher's desk. Cooper rolled up his sleeve to inspect a bite mark while Martinez rubbed his shin. Miguel sat, rocking back and forth as he played with his phone, seemingly oblivious to everyone around him.

"Miss Garcia, the Public Health Service was called in because of your son's violence against school staff. This school year, he has been suspended three times.  In the latest incident, he broke Mrs. Torres's nose.  We have turned a blind eye to his bad behavior and abysmal academic performance before, but he is a clear and present danger to society.  He has been ordered to be transferred to a re-education center."

"You can't take my baby," she screamed with horror, eyes darting around the room frantically. "Everyone knows what happens there. They go in, but they don't come out."

"You are the one who doomed your child in your womb. Your meth use gave him his senseless aggression and robbed him of his self-control."

"He is just sensitive. You have to understand him and give him more time."

Bob sighed. "No more time. He is preventing other children from getting the help they need. Miguel is going to the re-education center.  Would you like to join him?"

"No," she shrieked, grabbing for Bob only to be restrained by the guards. "Let me go."

Without any warning, Miguel snatched a heavy Martinelli's cider bottle that had been a decoration on Mrs. Torres's desk. He smashed off the end and savagely slashed at Martinez's throat, leaving the guard with a gash that ran from his ear to his collar. Instinctively, the guard let go of the woman to stem his bleeding.

Bob drew his service pistol. "Drop it, now."

Miguel stabbed at Cooper, who frantically tried to defend himself with his riot stick. The club and an itty, bitty can of MACE were all that Washoe County School District allowed their guards to carry. Cooper struggled to control Miguel's mother as he defended himself from Miguel. He was fighting for his life, and the growing red stain on the sleeve of his uniform proved that he was losing.

Bob fired twice, puncturing Miguel head with one shot and destroying the classroom's SMART Board 3D interactive display with the second. Miguel fell backward, a large hole in his head then shut his wide, unmoving eyes. Bob knelt over to check Miguel, but there was no pulse. He stood in a daze, absent-mindedly holstering his weapon. The loud blasts left his ears ringing. He barely made it to the trash can before his stomach heaved and violently emptied. It wasn't the first time he had to defend himself in the US Public Health Service, but it always made him sick.

Cooper released Miguel's mother. She knelt by her fallen child. "You monster," she cried, then leaped onto Bob and smeared Miguel's blood on his neat, white uniform. "His blood is on your hands. You murdered him." Despite their injuries, the guards managed to cuff her and tossed her to the floor. She lay next to her son, tears mixing with her son's brains and blood on the linoleum floor.

Holding his wounds with both hands, Martinez knelt down by Bob. "You saved my life. Thank you."

"You did," said Cooper, squeezing the injury on his arm.

Principal Pacheco put her phone down from calling 911 for the injured guard. "An ambulance is on the way, and Nurse Cabungcal is coming." She looked Bob straight in the eye. "Who is going to pay for the smart board you shot? We don't have the money to replace it."

"I will buy a new one, out of my own pocket." His miss shot the annual family vacation to Hell.

The principal nodded. "Good. Yes, yes, then. You were the hero that saved us all from that monster.  Nothing else could be done.  Isn't that right, Mrs. Torres?"

Mrs. Torres was trying to bandage Martinez's gash with the little classroom medical kit. By now, she had broken down in heaving sobs, but she nodded in sad agreement.

"I will tell them," Miguel's mother shouted as Cooper sat on her to keep her down. "You can't hide the truth. You are a murderer. I will kill you for this."

By the time Bob left, he had ordered Principal Pacheco a replacement Smart Board and had scrubbed the mess on his hands and knees until all traces were gone. Miguel had been hauled off by the coroner for disposal, and his mother had been hauled to jail on the charge of assaulting and threatening the life of a Federal officer in the process of lawfully discharging his duty.

By the time Bob left, he had ordered Principal Pacheco a replacement Smart Board and had scrubbed the mess on his hands and knees until all traces were gone. Miguel had been hauled off by the coroner for disposal, and his mother had been hauled to jail on the charge of assaulting and threatening the life of a Federal officer in the process of lawfully discharging his duty. If her drug test came back positive, which he was sure it would, she would go to the re-education center at Yerington.

Even though the principal and the others all backed him up in the police report and Vice Admiral Chapalgaonkar in Los Angeles had already ruled that the shooting was justified, Bob knew this would count against him in his review and probably would set his career back.

He felt terrible as the doggie van drove him home. He missed his late afternoon appointment for a genetic review at the Planned Parenthood on West 5th Street. Bob had told Angela to get someone to take his place, but by the time an officer had arrived the woman had fled, and they hadn't been able to find her. That would only increase her suffering. Any hospital in the civilized world would do a genetic sequencing on her newborn son before discharging him. His Tay–Sachs disease would be identified then. All those months of her pain and struggling during pregnancy for nothing.

It would be even more horrible if she had a home birth and tried to hide the baby. The boy's symptoms would develop around three to six months of age. She would have to watch her son lose the ability to turn over, sit, or crawl. Soon he would develop seizures and die in early childhood. There was a reason why the penalties for avoiding mandatory abortion and sterilization were so harsh. Genetic disorders need to be weeded out of the population for everyone's good.

He was late getting home. Before he even got out of the van, Thor and Sif chirped their happy bark. Frantically dancing tails and the smell of lasagna greeted him. When the day went well, April cooked to keep him on his diet. When days were truly awful, she made lasagna. This was definitely a lasagna day. "Are you alright, Baby?"

He nodded. "It will be alright."

Thor leaned against Bob and put his head in Bob's hand as Maria and Anna and joined the group hug. "I have some bad news, girls," Bob said.

"What," the children asked.

"I don't think we can afford to go to visit Grandma this year. Daddy broke something expensive at work and had to pay for it."

"Can Grandma come here," Maria asked. "She can stay in my room."

Bob nodded. "That's a wonderful idea." He hugged his family close. "We are good people. We always sacrifice and try to help others.  Sometimes things don't go our way, but they will always work out right in the end." 