Post by minianne on Oct 14, 2009 22:32:18 GMT -5
"A Long Way Up"
Chapter 8
“I don’t get it,” Rick said, smoothing his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s a very generous offer… Why won't you take your retirement now?”
Jim just shook his head.
“I’m not ready to retire,” he declared. “I’m going back to work.”
“How are you going to do that?” Rick asked, incredulously.
Jim shrugged.
“I’m not sure. But if I can get the right training, I don’t see why not.”
“There’s no reason you can’t work for the department,” Rick said. “Just not in your old job. Maybe you can get some sort of desk duty.”
Cracking his knuckles, Jim scowled. Rick just wasn’t getting it.
“No desk duty. I’m a homicide detective. They can’t take that away from me just because I’m blind.”
Rick heaved a sigh. This wasn’t making any sense. There was no way in hell that Jim could go back to work as a detective. That was crazy talk. What he thinking? Just over a week ago, he wanted to kill himself because he was sightless. Jim claimed that couldn’t imagine living that way. Now, he wanted to be a blind homicide detective?
Perhaps if Christie could get him to see a psychiatrist or psychologist they could get Jim to face reality. This sort of thinking was just putting off the inevitable. But, maybe he just needed a little more time to adjust…
Jim’s boss Lieutenant Kerr had stopped by that morning to drop off some paperwork and bring up the subject of retirement. The NYPD was offering him full retirement beginning immediately. This plan was extended to officers who had suffered injuries in the line of duty resulting in total and permanent disability. In addition, Jim was to receive the New York City Police Department Medal of Honor.
Instead of jumping at the offer, Jim had balked. He told the Lieutenant that he planned on coming back to work as soon as he completed a rehabilitation program.
That announcement took the Lieutenant, Christie and Rick off guard. Jim hadn’t discussed this with any of them. The silence afterward was extended and uncomfortable.
Bob Kerr was an easygoing, yet conservative type of fellow. He liked and respected Jim. In addition, he had been extremely kind and supportive to Jim’s family throughout his hospital ordeal.
“Have you given any thought to the work you might do if you came back?” he asked, diplomatically.
“My job,” Jim replied. “Homicide detective.”
The Lieutenant was kind, but firm saying, “I don’t see how that would be possible.”
Jim had responded by abruptly standing and practically shouting:
“Tell them to keep their God damned medal...," he muttered. "You can’t take my job away from me. That’s who I am. I’m gonna make it work…believe it!”
He walked toward the bedroom, bumping his shoulder on the doorframe, re-grouped, then slammed the door.
After Kerr left, Rick took Jim to the park across the street to “cool off”. He “parked” Jim on a bench and paced back and forth in front of him.
“I’ll be God damned if they’re going to put me out to pasture,“ Jim said, bitterly. “I have worked long and hard and I’ve proven myself. I swear to God, I’m going back to work if it kills me. I can make it work. I know it.”
Rick looked at Jim as though he had lost his mind.
“This is crazy talk, J.D.,” he said, incredulously. “How the hell are you going to get around?”
“I’ll get a dog,” Jim replied.
“How are you going to get to crime scenes?”
“I’ll ride with the other detectives.”
“How will you handle paperwork?”
“I - I don’t know…but I’ll find a way.”
Rick walked over to the bench and sat down beside Jim. If he walked away, the other man wouldn't have a clue how to get back to his own building. Time and training would change that, but to what degree?
“How can you do your job without a weapon?”
Jim grabbed the front of the bench and squeezed so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“There is no reason I couldn’t carry. It would be a “belly gun”. I wouldn’t do any long range shooting.”
Rick removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Jesus, J.D. could be a real hard-ass when he wanted to be. It didn’t do any good to argue when he was like this. The man had only been out of the hospital for a week and a half. He was still coming to terms with being blind. He was suffering the after effects of a serious head injury.
Surely, he’d come to his senses soon.
Rick replaced his glasses and sighed. Tomorrow morning he was going back to Muncie. There was only so much he could do. He’d seen Jim through the worst of his ordeal, but he had his own family and job to tend to. Jim was a grown man and capable of making his own decisions. Ultimately, it was his life. As long as he was no longer thinking about harming himself, Rick had to let go.
Soon enough, Jim would have to get real and face up to his limitations.
Chapter 8
“I don’t get it,” Rick said, smoothing his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s a very generous offer… Why won't you take your retirement now?”
Jim just shook his head.
“I’m not ready to retire,” he declared. “I’m going back to work.”
“How are you going to do that?” Rick asked, incredulously.
Jim shrugged.
“I’m not sure. But if I can get the right training, I don’t see why not.”
“There’s no reason you can’t work for the department,” Rick said. “Just not in your old job. Maybe you can get some sort of desk duty.”
Cracking his knuckles, Jim scowled. Rick just wasn’t getting it.
“No desk duty. I’m a homicide detective. They can’t take that away from me just because I’m blind.”
Rick heaved a sigh. This wasn’t making any sense. There was no way in hell that Jim could go back to work as a detective. That was crazy talk. What he thinking? Just over a week ago, he wanted to kill himself because he was sightless. Jim claimed that couldn’t imagine living that way. Now, he wanted to be a blind homicide detective?
Perhaps if Christie could get him to see a psychiatrist or psychologist they could get Jim to face reality. This sort of thinking was just putting off the inevitable. But, maybe he just needed a little more time to adjust…
Jim’s boss Lieutenant Kerr had stopped by that morning to drop off some paperwork and bring up the subject of retirement. The NYPD was offering him full retirement beginning immediately. This plan was extended to officers who had suffered injuries in the line of duty resulting in total and permanent disability. In addition, Jim was to receive the New York City Police Department Medal of Honor.
Instead of jumping at the offer, Jim had balked. He told the Lieutenant that he planned on coming back to work as soon as he completed a rehabilitation program.
That announcement took the Lieutenant, Christie and Rick off guard. Jim hadn’t discussed this with any of them. The silence afterward was extended and uncomfortable.
Bob Kerr was an easygoing, yet conservative type of fellow. He liked and respected Jim. In addition, he had been extremely kind and supportive to Jim’s family throughout his hospital ordeal.
“Have you given any thought to the work you might do if you came back?” he asked, diplomatically.
“My job,” Jim replied. “Homicide detective.”
The Lieutenant was kind, but firm saying, “I don’t see how that would be possible.”
Jim had responded by abruptly standing and practically shouting:
“Tell them to keep their God damned medal...," he muttered. "You can’t take my job away from me. That’s who I am. I’m gonna make it work…believe it!”
He walked toward the bedroom, bumping his shoulder on the doorframe, re-grouped, then slammed the door.
After Kerr left, Rick took Jim to the park across the street to “cool off”. He “parked” Jim on a bench and paced back and forth in front of him.
“I’ll be God damned if they’re going to put me out to pasture,“ Jim said, bitterly. “I have worked long and hard and I’ve proven myself. I swear to God, I’m going back to work if it kills me. I can make it work. I know it.”
Rick looked at Jim as though he had lost his mind.
“This is crazy talk, J.D.,” he said, incredulously. “How the hell are you going to get around?”
“I’ll get a dog,” Jim replied.
“How are you going to get to crime scenes?”
“I’ll ride with the other detectives.”
“How will you handle paperwork?”
“I - I don’t know…but I’ll find a way.”
Rick walked over to the bench and sat down beside Jim. If he walked away, the other man wouldn't have a clue how to get back to his own building. Time and training would change that, but to what degree?
“How can you do your job without a weapon?”
Jim grabbed the front of the bench and squeezed so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“There is no reason I couldn’t carry. It would be a “belly gun”. I wouldn’t do any long range shooting.”
Rick removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Jesus, J.D. could be a real hard-ass when he wanted to be. It didn’t do any good to argue when he was like this. The man had only been out of the hospital for a week and a half. He was still coming to terms with being blind. He was suffering the after effects of a serious head injury.
Surely, he’d come to his senses soon.
Rick replaced his glasses and sighed. Tomorrow morning he was going back to Muncie. There was only so much he could do. He’d seen Jim through the worst of his ordeal, but he had his own family and job to tend to. Jim was a grown man and capable of making his own decisions. Ultimately, it was his life. As long as he was no longer thinking about harming himself, Rick had to let go.
Soon enough, Jim would have to get real and face up to his limitations.