I pulled the gloves from my hands, careful to keep the blood
away from my skin and tossed the red-tinged black nitrile gloves into the red
biohazard bag on the bus.
“Morris,” I yelled, as I pushed the plunger on the bottle of
sanitizer with my fingers, while catching the gel with the palm of the same
hand. It was a motion I’d mastered too many crime scenes ago.
“Yeah, what’s the commotion?” Morris bitched. “I just got
the CSI guys started.”
“I think we got this one nailed down,” I said, stepping off
the bus. “I’ll run through the scenario for you and I’ll try to use small words
so even an underworked, overpaid public servant such as yourself can easily
understand what happened.”
Morris gave me a smirk and held up one finger. It wasn’t his
pinky.
I began, “Dead guy number one and the girl get together for
a little excitement in the back seat of his car. Dead guy number two, also
known as the boyfriend of the girl, shows up and realizes the love of his life
is slappin’ ugly with someone new.”
“Dead guy number two is understandably not pleased and calls
out dead guy number one, intent on displaying his displeasure with the
situation.”
“Both dead guys had guns. Both had better than average aim
and Bang! No more living dead guys.”
“Girl gives statement. Statement matches other witness
statements and evidence obtained thus far.”
“The detective, that would be me, waits for coroner’s report
on both victims before creating a literary masterpiece describing said incident
and clearing one murder from the books.’
“The detective, in the meantime, goes home and tries to
remember why he didn’t take his mother’s advice and become a pigeon groomer.”
“Well, since you put it that way, how’s ‘bout I finish up
here and wait for the coroner while you go get your beauty rest?” Morris said.
“Although I don’t think it’ll do any good, considering
you’re fuckin’ ugly and all the sleep in the world ain’t gonna cure that.”
“Morris, you have a way with the English language,” I
conceded. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. You still owe me lunch.”
Morris started to argue the point but I pointed to my mike.
“Shh! Gotta call it in,” I said, as I watched Morris feign being pissed at the
thought of having to cough up money for lunch.
I clicked my mike. “Lima 7, Comm,” I said.
“Comm go Lima 7,” Comm responded.
“Clear me from the scene. Sierra 5 will be scene contact,” I
explained.
“Lima 7 copy,” Comm responded. “Sierra 5 contact. Show you
clear 1522.”
I ducked under the yellow and black crime scene tape and
headed toward my car, rubbing away the last of the alcohol-based disinfectant I
had squirted on my hand at the bus, which reminds me, it’s a new world in EMS.
Ambulances aren’t just for sleeping paramedics and emergency
sex anymore. These days, they make great aid stations too.
I struggled with the key for my car door- cars didn’t come
with key fobs when my antique Maverick rolled off the assembly line in 1972.
As I fussed, I saw a sign in the window of the
long-abandoned deli across the street, advertising a “Killer Hero Sandwich
$3.95” special.
The thought of a sandwich made my mouth water. I’d missed
lunch- again. I could have gone straight home and had mystery leftovers. I
could have hit the MagicDonut for a bite to eat. I could have stopped by
Lenny’s and had a burger.
Instead, I chose to head to the deli counter of the local
market. Seeing the sign for the sandwich, realizing I was hungry,
deciding to go to the market, each individual action helped bring me to a place
in time that changed my life forever.
Along the way, I would realize the implications of a simple
fact of life. Every decision, every moment in our lives is dependent on the sum
of all the moments before it and a simple change in a single moment leads to a
change in every moment thereafter.
I would also find that death is deceptive; time is fluid and
what once was, can be now, changed. I know; it didn’t make sense to me either,
once.
It does now.
The day I saw the sign for the sandwich, I thought I had all
the answers but then the questions changed. Everything changed. And then,
everything changed again. I’m still confused but that too will change.
This is my story.
My journey toward understanding life, time and fate began as
most life-altering crusades should- surrounded by the components of an epic
sandwich and in the company of a truly timeless woman.
To read more, buy "In Another Life" on Kindle Books.
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