Officer Jones

Chapter 25

Ella, on a probable sugar high, left me in the dust.

“Look who I found! Look who I found!”

Ethan’s eyes left his daughter and locked on me. I wasn’t getting a “happy to see me” vibe.

I led with the headline, “I felt compelled to come over and thank you for all your get-well wishes. Your kindness has been excessive.” I was going to clear the air or add another broken bone to my medical resume. Maybe both.

Ethan told Ella to run along and get some ice cream. Not a good sign. He reached into his faded jeans and pulled out crinkled money and instructed her to take the younger children, Sandy and Eli, with her. He then hastily sent his players on their way.

Pam, sensing the imminent showdown, gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek, perhaps intended to diffuse the situation, and departed with the children. She glanced back twice with a concerned look on her face. Only Ethan and I remained-the battlefield was clear.

He turned to me. “I’ve been busy, I apologize. I know you’re used to the world revolving around you, JP, so it must be a shock to your system to learn that you’re not the center of the universe.”

“Cut the crap, Ethan. You’ve been avoiding me like the Bubonic Plague.”

“I’m a history teacher, JP. The Bubonic Plague was caused by rats, not egomaniacs who think they can drop in and out of everybody’s lives whenever they feel like it.”

“I’m sorry you chose a life where the only time you leave the safe confines of Rockfield is on a school bus. I didn’t choose it for you.”

“Nobody said anything about your job.”

“Spare me.”

“Spare you?” Ethan asked with disbelief. “The key word is you. It’s always about you, JP, isn’t it? You couldn’t care less it kills another little piece of Mom every time you run off trying to get yourself killed. How about sparing her?”

“I don’t have to defend my career to you.”

“That’s because you aren’t the one who has to go over there in the middle of the night. You should have seen her expression when she turned on the news and saw a photo of her son plastered on the screen with a face beaten purple by a bunch of terrorists. And you weren’t the one who sat with Dad after he came out of cancer surgery.”

“I got him the best care and doctors possible.”

“Writing a check isn’t the same as being there.”

I tried to speak, but Ethan evoked his big-brother rights and talked over me, “And you weren’t the one who had to talk Noah down off Samerauk Bridge last year. He was going to kill himself. But did you care? You took us to France, so I guess everything is fine.”

I knew Noah was in a bad place, but the depths shocked me. Kill himself? I filled with guilt. “I didn’t know.”

“Because you weren’t here!”

“I’m not the first child to move away from the nest.”

He shook his head like I just wasn’t getting it.

“Proximity has nothing to do with it. Just because you take off to God-knows-where doesn’t stop Mom and Dad from thinking about you … worrying about you … contacting you. Their love for you is unconditional. Sometimes I wonder if it works both ways.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You want to talk about fair? Dad gave his heart and soul to this town, and when it came time to dedicate a field, who does the school board vote to name it after?”

I knew where this was headed, but I let him continue venting, “That’s right, they named it after JP Warner, a man whose main contribution was getting the hell out as fast as he could and never looking back. You didn’t even show up for the ceremony.”

“Stop playing this off on Dad,” I shot back, angrily. “This is about you and your fragile ego. You chose a life, just like I chose a life, but the only difference is I don’t need an award for it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

We were now face-to-face, a crowd had gathered around us like when a fight was about to break out in junior high. We had become the most popular exhibit.

“Maybe you can get a Mr. Perfect award. The perfect life with the perfect wife. The perfect family man who always does the perfect thing with his perfect kids. When you receive that honor, I promise I’ll show up!”

I was getting close to adding missing teeth to my medical resume.

“Why don’t you go do your usual leaving act, JP? It’s going to happen sooner or later, anyway. There will never be enough attention and spotlight here for you.”

“You better get used to me, big brother, because I’m going to be here for a long, long time.”

As if she sensed a calamity about to happen, Pam returned with the children. She was a lot like a UN peacekeeping force-good intentions, but not enough firepower to stop anything significant from happening. She hugged me-I was unable to determine if it was a warm greeting, or she was trying to protect me-and then after we traded a couple pleasantries, she invited me to a barbecue at their house on Labor Day.

Ethan turned and began walking away in a huff.

I stood awkwardly with Pam and the children. We made small talk about the weather, and I discussed the impending return to school with my nieces and nephew. Acting as if what just happened didn’t happen, seemed like the best way to proceed.

Finally, Pam broke the delusion, “JP, you just have to understand that Ethan puts in all the blood and guts around here. He’s done all the dirty work with your mom and dad, and Noah is no picnic, either. Then you walk in like the prodigal son and he gets shoved to the side like yesterday’s news. Can you blame him for being a little hurt? He’s only human.”

I nodded.

“He really is glad to see you. Just give him some time, okay?” she asked with an encouraging smile.

“I will.”

“Are you really planning on sticking around?”

Our shouting must have been heard all the way to the ice cream stand. Which meant everybody within shouting distance heard my claim to drop anchor in Rockfield. I doubt anyone believed it.

“Why is that so hard for people to believe?”

Pam shrugged, while simultaneously pulling a cloth from her purse and wiping spilled ice cream off the shirt of her youngest son, Eli. “I guess it’s hard to believe someone would want to drive a minivan after driving a Jaguar.”

“Problem with Jaguars is that they’re always in the shop.”

Pam smiled, but talk of my physical condition made me think of Byron, so I changed the subject, “That was a great game last night, huh?”

Pam looked off into the distance. “There’s one of the coaches-why don’t you ask him about it?”