Post by minianne on Oct 14, 2009 22:34:44 GMT -5
“A Long Way Up”
Chapter 11
“Walter! There’s a call for you. Line 3.”
“Kramer,” he said picking up the phone.
It was Jim Dunbar. Walter was surprised and pleased. He’d been trying to reach the younger man for several weeks. Ever since he’d been released from the hospital. But Dunbar hadn’t taken his calls.
“So, how you getting along?”
“Pretty good,” Jim replied. “I’m starting rehab at a place called the Lighthouse tomorrow. One of their reps was here this morning. It looks like I’m gonna have to take a lot of training classes before I can come back to work.”
Walter’s eyes widened. He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice when he replied.
“So when do you think that might be?”
“Dunno,” Jim said. “I’d say six months to a year. Hey, Walt, I want to apologize for not getting back to you sooner.”
“You’ve had a lot going on.”
“Yeah,” Jim answered. “I was wondering if we might get together sometime soon. Maybe you could stop over for a beer.”
Walter checked his watch.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Nothing, really…”
“Let’s have lunch,” Walter said. “I’ll pick you up in a half hour.”
Hanging up the telephone, Jim frowned. He was glad to be seeing his friend, but was a little nervous. This would only be the third time he’d been out of the apartment since getting home from the hospital. There had been the visit to the doctor’s office and when he and Rick had gone across the street to the park.
What the hell, Dunbar, he thought. You’ve gotta go out at some point. Might as well be with Walt.
When Walter rang the bell, Jim buzzed him in, opened the apartment door and waited. Soon he heard the elevator doors open.
Walter’s gruff voice echoed down the hall.
“Detective Dunbar!”
They greeted each other warmly, slapping each other on the back affectionately.
Walter pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead.
“Whew! It feels great in here. It’s a scorcher out there. Hard to believe for the middle of September.”
He watched Jim walk slowly over to the kitchen counter.
“You want something to drink?” he asked.
“Nah,” the other man replied. “Let’s head out. I thought we might go over to Kelsey’s.”
Jim took a deep breath. Jeez. That was the pub everyone from the precinct went to for lunch. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face them yet. But, he didn’t want to tell Walter.
What the hell, he thought. I can’t put it off forever.
He excused himself and went into the bedroom to get his wallet. When he came out, he was also carrying his cane.
“Okay,” he said, unfolding it, “Let’s roll”.
Walter’s face fell when he looked at Jim. It really was true. Dunbar was blind. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know that before, but the sight of him with the dark glasses and that cane… Well, it hurt to see him like this. Of all the rotten-assed breaks.
Now, Dunbar had the notion he was coming back to work. That was clearly impossible, but if it gave him a reason to get up in the morning, who was he to argue with him?
“Walt?” Jim said, questioningly.
“Ready,” he replied. “Now, what kind of help do you need from me?”
“Do you mind if I take your arm?” Jim asked.
“No problem,” Walt replied, crossing the room and offering it to his friend.
Just getting to the car was awkward. Walter wasn’t an experienced guide and Jim stumbled a few times on the steps and getting into the car. But soon they were underway.
“Lt. Kerr stopped by about a week ago,” Jim said. “The department wants to retire me with full benefits starting immediately.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” Walt replied, putting on his turn signal and changing lanes.
“It would be if I was ready to retire,” Jim said. “I told him I was planning on coming back to work.”
“What did he say?” Walter asked cautiously.
“He didn’t see how that would be possible.”
“And?”
Jim sighed.
“He wanted to know what sort of work I thought I might do if I came back.”
“What did you say?” Walt inquired.
“My job. Homicide detective.”
“Damn it!” Jim continued, tapping his leg with his folded cane. “I’m not stupid. I know how that sounds. Who’s ever heard of a blind detective? But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. My brother, Rick and Christie think it sounds crazy as well.”
Walter glanced over at Jim who was obviously agitated.
“I’ve heard rumors that you’re going to be given the Medal of Honor.”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Kerr told me they were. I told him to keep it. I’m not interested in medals. I just want to go back to work.”
“What are you gonna do?” Walt asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jim said. “Personnel over at 1PP sent a package the other day with all the forms to set things in motion for retirement. So, I don’t think Kerr is taking me seriously. But I’m not signing anything. There has to be a way to work around this.”
Walter pulled the car into the lot behind Kelsey’s.
“I know you’ll do the right thing,” he told him.
What’s that supposed to mean? Jim thought, getting out of the car, but he said nothing. Walter came around and offered his arm. Jim kept his cane folded and stuck it in his back pocket. He wasn’t ready to be “seen” with it yet in public.
They went in through the bar entrance. The din of the crowd seemed overwhelming to Jim. They were soon surrounded by a group of detectives from Jim’s precinct. Everything happened so fast. Walter sat Jim down at a table and somebody put a frozen beer mug in his hand. It was hard to keep track of who was who. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.
Jim tried to smile and be friendly, but the excitement was taking a toll on him. That old familiar pain behind his eyes was starting up with a vengeance. He wished he had brought a pain pill with him. Walter seemed to realize this and soon he was at Jim’s side, his large hand on his shoulder, telling everyone they had some things to discuss and were going to get a booth.
Leading Jim toward the back of the restaurant, they slid into their seats.
“Thanks,” Jim said, sighing.
“You bet,” Walter replied, picking up a menu. “You know what you want?”
Chapter 11
“Walter! There’s a call for you. Line 3.”
“Kramer,” he said picking up the phone.
It was Jim Dunbar. Walter was surprised and pleased. He’d been trying to reach the younger man for several weeks. Ever since he’d been released from the hospital. But Dunbar hadn’t taken his calls.
“So, how you getting along?”
“Pretty good,” Jim replied. “I’m starting rehab at a place called the Lighthouse tomorrow. One of their reps was here this morning. It looks like I’m gonna have to take a lot of training classes before I can come back to work.”
Walter’s eyes widened. He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice when he replied.
“So when do you think that might be?”
“Dunno,” Jim said. “I’d say six months to a year. Hey, Walt, I want to apologize for not getting back to you sooner.”
“You’ve had a lot going on.”
“Yeah,” Jim answered. “I was wondering if we might get together sometime soon. Maybe you could stop over for a beer.”
Walter checked his watch.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Nothing, really…”
“Let’s have lunch,” Walter said. “I’ll pick you up in a half hour.”
Hanging up the telephone, Jim frowned. He was glad to be seeing his friend, but was a little nervous. This would only be the third time he’d been out of the apartment since getting home from the hospital. There had been the visit to the doctor’s office and when he and Rick had gone across the street to the park.
What the hell, Dunbar, he thought. You’ve gotta go out at some point. Might as well be with Walt.
When Walter rang the bell, Jim buzzed him in, opened the apartment door and waited. Soon he heard the elevator doors open.
Walter’s gruff voice echoed down the hall.
“Detective Dunbar!”
They greeted each other warmly, slapping each other on the back affectionately.
Walter pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead.
“Whew! It feels great in here. It’s a scorcher out there. Hard to believe for the middle of September.”
He watched Jim walk slowly over to the kitchen counter.
“You want something to drink?” he asked.
“Nah,” the other man replied. “Let’s head out. I thought we might go over to Kelsey’s.”
Jim took a deep breath. Jeez. That was the pub everyone from the precinct went to for lunch. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face them yet. But, he didn’t want to tell Walter.
What the hell, he thought. I can’t put it off forever.
He excused himself and went into the bedroom to get his wallet. When he came out, he was also carrying his cane.
“Okay,” he said, unfolding it, “Let’s roll”.
Walter’s face fell when he looked at Jim. It really was true. Dunbar was blind. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know that before, but the sight of him with the dark glasses and that cane… Well, it hurt to see him like this. Of all the rotten-assed breaks.
Now, Dunbar had the notion he was coming back to work. That was clearly impossible, but if it gave him a reason to get up in the morning, who was he to argue with him?
“Walt?” Jim said, questioningly.
“Ready,” he replied. “Now, what kind of help do you need from me?”
“Do you mind if I take your arm?” Jim asked.
“No problem,” Walt replied, crossing the room and offering it to his friend.
Just getting to the car was awkward. Walter wasn’t an experienced guide and Jim stumbled a few times on the steps and getting into the car. But soon they were underway.
“Lt. Kerr stopped by about a week ago,” Jim said. “The department wants to retire me with full benefits starting immediately.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” Walt replied, putting on his turn signal and changing lanes.
“It would be if I was ready to retire,” Jim said. “I told him I was planning on coming back to work.”
“What did he say?” Walter asked cautiously.
“He didn’t see how that would be possible.”
“And?”
Jim sighed.
“He wanted to know what sort of work I thought I might do if I came back.”
“What did you say?” Walt inquired.
“My job. Homicide detective.”
“Damn it!” Jim continued, tapping his leg with his folded cane. “I’m not stupid. I know how that sounds. Who’s ever heard of a blind detective? But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. My brother, Rick and Christie think it sounds crazy as well.”
Walter glanced over at Jim who was obviously agitated.
“I’ve heard rumors that you’re going to be given the Medal of Honor.”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Kerr told me they were. I told him to keep it. I’m not interested in medals. I just want to go back to work.”
“What are you gonna do?” Walt asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jim said. “Personnel over at 1PP sent a package the other day with all the forms to set things in motion for retirement. So, I don’t think Kerr is taking me seriously. But I’m not signing anything. There has to be a way to work around this.”
Walter pulled the car into the lot behind Kelsey’s.
“I know you’ll do the right thing,” he told him.
What’s that supposed to mean? Jim thought, getting out of the car, but he said nothing. Walter came around and offered his arm. Jim kept his cane folded and stuck it in his back pocket. He wasn’t ready to be “seen” with it yet in public.
They went in through the bar entrance. The din of the crowd seemed overwhelming to Jim. They were soon surrounded by a group of detectives from Jim’s precinct. Everything happened so fast. Walter sat Jim down at a table and somebody put a frozen beer mug in his hand. It was hard to keep track of who was who. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.
Jim tried to smile and be friendly, but the excitement was taking a toll on him. That old familiar pain behind his eyes was starting up with a vengeance. He wished he had brought a pain pill with him. Walter seemed to realize this and soon he was at Jim’s side, his large hand on his shoulder, telling everyone they had some things to discuss and were going to get a booth.
Leading Jim toward the back of the restaurant, they slid into their seats.
“Thanks,” Jim said, sighing.
“You bet,” Walter replied, picking up a menu. “You know what you want?”