Still Waters

by David Banner

  Another life lost, he thought.

  And for what?

  “What happened?” Michelle asked. “I heard a gunshot. Where’s the guy?”

  “He didn’t make it.”

  Her eyes were warm and flecked with compassion and in that moment Ryan felt a connection much deeper than any he had in the last few weeks. The Lord works in mysterious ways they say, was his desire to change his life only a way to make him truly understand how lucky he was. Or were his heightened emotions simply getting the better of him in the moment?

  “How’s the kid?” He raised his eyes.

  “I think they’re about to cut him down.” She answered softly. “They put an oxygen mask on him right after you left.”

  With her hand in his the detective headed back to the scene of the accident and watched as a team of skilled paramedics each gathered around the small child. Each movement was careful and slow as two men steadied the child and another cut the branch away from the tree only a few inches from his body.

  It took more than two hours for each member of the team to complete their task. But finally, thanks to their hard work, and perhaps a little help from a higher power they managed to free the child. His breath’s were shallow and slow, with too much space between them but he was going to make it, Ryan thought.

  “Will he be okay?” He asked a senior EMT.

  The man was tall with thick shoulders and a wide frame. Large biceps pressed against the short white sleeves of his cotton shirt as he took a long slow breath. This night marked only the third time the two men had spoken, each time under pressing and terrible circumstances.

  “Doubtful,” his words caused the detectives heart to sink. “That branch was covered in small jagged edges from a recent trim. If any one of those punctured a lung or a kidney the damage may be irreversible.”

  “But he stands a chance, right?”

  “It’s too early to make any predictions.” He answered. “We’ve done all we can. It’s up to the doctors now.”

  Ryan thanked the man and slowly headed away before catching sight of the still grieving mother now sitting in the rear of a police car, her hands still bound behind her back. With a small prayer and a deep breath he headed to her car and opened the door.

  “Would you like to say anything?” He asked.

  Though he was off duty at the time Ryan Devereux had been the first law enforcement official to arrive on the scene. His career was supposed to be over, he reminded himself. This was his last week on the job, a time when the most complicated or emotional thing he needed to do was get lunch.

  Still though, she was a human being, a grieving mother and she’s just experienced a horrific thing. Not only was her son barely clinging to life but his father was now gone forever. He wondered if she knew that or if he would be the one to tell her.

  “Where is Devon?” she asked. “I heard a gunshot and then everyone ran after him.”

  Question answered.

  He was going to be the bearer of bad news this time around.

  “I’m sorry,” Ryan began. “He didn’t make it.”

  She didn’t respond. She didn’t move or speak. She just sat stoic and silent as the ambulance carrying her son disappeared into the crowded Charleston streets. Ryan couldn’t imagine what she must have been going through, the sheer anguish that must have been coursing through her veins while she sit in the back seat of that car.

  “How did your son come to be in the vehicle?”

  “We had a fight,” she replied. “Another one. He’s a cheater, or… at least he was. I took my son out for ice cream and when I came home he was drunk. He took Everett while I was packing his clothes. I told him this time we were leaving for good. I didn’t notice they had gone for a few minutes. Then I heard about the accident. I knew it was him…”

  It was a scenario Ryan Devereux had seen a million times during his years as a police officer. Domestic disturbances are a very common thing. Especially in young couples. Rarely does it end so tragically however.

  “Why didn’t you call the police?” He asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The police,” he repeated. “When you knew your boyfriend was driving drunk with a child in the car. Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “Don’t go trying to blame this on me, officer. You saw what happened.”

  “No one is placing blame, ma’am.” Ryan assured her. “I was simply-”

  “My son,” she interrupted. “I need to see my son.”

  “Ma’am your son will be in surgery for a long time.”

  “Then I’ll sit in the waiting room and stare at the walls.” She said, her face swollen and puffed with worry. “I don’t want to be here. I can’t just sit in the back of some damn car while he’s being cut open and stitched back together. Get me to the hospital!”

  Ryan took a few small steps back. She was upset, and understandably so. Perhaps, he thought, she might be more open if he were to have her brought to the emergency room.

  “Fine,” he answered. “Wait here. I’ll have an officer take you there.”

  He turned and walked away from the car, stopping just for a minute to take another look at the scene. The thought of what that small boy must have gone through in those final seconds haunted the detective. He thought back to his own childhood, to the absent father and troubled relationship between his parents. Those were just fights though, he remembered. Never had tings gotten so out of hand that anything truly bad happened.

  “Are you going to the hospital?” Michelle appeared next to him.

  “I think I should.”

  “Alright,” she said.

  The beautiful slender woman stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him but something inside of her hesitated, Ryan felt it. The sweet scent of strawberries and cream danced through his nostrils as her breathe in her hair.

  She wasn’t holding him the way she usually did, the way she had the night before.

  “Be safe, Ryan.” She turned to leave.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like,” she answered. “Be safe. I’ll see you.”

  Her words carried with them a finality, one the detective hadn’t heard in quite some time. Not since he’d said his goodbyes to Jillian the last morning they woke as husband and wife. His desire to change things hadn’t come without consequences.

  “So thats it?” He asked. “You’re not going to see me again?”

  She sighed softly then looked deep into his bright blue eyes.

  “If we’re done then we’re done.” She started. “If I could change things I would but you’ve made your choice here. Your leaving and I’m not coming with you. There’s nothing else for us to say, there’s no reason to pretend we’re headed somewhere we aren’t.”

  “Come with me,” he met her stare.

  “To Texas?”

  “Texas… Virginia… anywhere.”

  “I just don’t get it!” She snapped. “What is with you? Nothing is wrong here Ryan! We have a good thing. You have a career some people would kill for. Not to mention this place is your home. South Carolina.. the lowcountry. Whatever you wanna call it. I’ve never seen anyone love it as much as you and here you are trying every way you know to tear it all to shreds!”

  She pushed him away.

  “I’m not trying to tear my life to shreds, Michelle.” He insisted.

  “Then what is this?” She scoffed. “A midlife crisis? Are you going to hang out with college kids in Austin? Buy a Camaro and stay out all night drinking, trying to bag young girls?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Ryan snapped. “I just mentioned moving. It’s not set in stone and it doesn’t mean I’m trying to tear my life up or that I want to go chasing college girls. You’re turning this into something it isn’t. You’re fishing for a fight to make this easier. You don’t have to do that. We can talk about this like rational people. Like adults.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. You sho
uld get to the hospital.”

  Her long black shirt swung loosely beneath her as she melted away into the hot Carolina night. Ryan lifted his head, looking around for the first time in what felt like hours. An entire crowd of people had been watching the exchange, some even recording with their phones.

  What was it about people, he thought. Why do we as humans enjoy seeing terrible things. Why had all of these people stopped to watch a young boy fight for his life, a tree branch sticking through his body? And why had they stayed to watch the troubles of a relationship.

  “Go home,” he flicked his wrist. “Shows over. We need to get this area clear.”

  With a low chatter the crowd slowly dispersed into the night. Ryan checked his watch. It had been two hours since he’d arrived at the swanky restaurant though it felt more like four. Time moves so strangely when emotions are on the rise.

  He headed for his car.

  He was going to speak with the woman from the scene. Of course another officer could take her statement but that wasn’t the point. He wanted to know for sure that the small child was going to survive. He wanted to keep his promise.

  Streetlights zipped past his window in a slow blur as he drove down the small two-lane street leading to the hospital. He’d seen too much of that hospital over the last few years, too many late nights listening to the cries of worried loved ones.

  Taking a right turn onto Bleeker Street the detective felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He quickly glanced at the screen to see Jillian’s name.

  ‘I heard about the accident. Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ he replied, keeping his eyes glued to the road ahead. ‘I’ll text you later.’

  Though they were no longer married Jillian often worried about the man. Though, what is to be expected when you’re married to a law officer? For the most part Ryan Devereux was a cold case detective, but much like this night he still found himself involved in active investigations every so often.

  He pulled his car to a slow stop just below the Emergency Room sign then stepped out. The place looked calm and quiet, with only a handful of people to be seen. Just left of the door Ryan noticed the senior paramedic from the accident. He locked eyes with the man, the look on his face telling him everything he needed to know.

  The child wasn’t doing well.

  A soft ding echoed through the halls as the elevator doors popped open. Ryan stepped out to see the boys mother sitting in a pale orange chair. A nurse sat next to her, trying her best to comfort the grieving woman.

  “I’m sorry…” Ryan said in a low soft voice.

  “He isn’t dead,” the suffering mother spoke through her tears. “The doctor says we have to wait. That if he can make it through the night he might be okay. He’s weak… there’s nothing I can do.”

  “There’s one thing,” the nurse looked to Ryan. “We can pray. Three voices are louder than one.”

  “Of course,” he took a seat next to them.

  Chapter Five

  Bright morning light jetted through Ryans fluttering eyelids. Morning always came too soon, it seemed. It had been years since he’d last felt rested, since he’d woken to find himself with any real energy or desire to get out of bed. All those feelings went away of course, just after his first cup of coffee.

  He took a deep breath, letting the warm coastal air slowly work its way into his lungs. It had been two weeks since Michelle convinced the man to purchase his new sheets. Normally the idea of spending hundreds of dollars for bedding wouldn’t have been something he gave a second thought but the woman insisted he would sleep better.

  She was right.

  The new sheets were some of the most comfortable and cooling sheets he’d ever known. This coupled with the heartbreaking scene from the night before didn’t provide much help in getting him out of bed. With one final stretch he threw his covers to the empty side of his bed and stepped out.

  Ryan took a quick look at his phone. There were a handful of new notifications, none of them too pressing. There were junk emails of course, a few texts from his daughter and one from Chief Evans. They could all wait until after coffee, he thought as he placed the phone back on his dresser.

  The smell of a fresh brew carried through the small houseboat, mixing with the fresh morning air. It was an intoxicating and welcoming scent and one the detective looked forward to every morning. He placed a piece of freshly toasted bread onto a small plate and headed to the deck.

  “Well it’s about damn time,” his uncle Pauley said. “I heard that alarm go off twenty minutes ago.”

  “How long have you been out here?” Ryan took a seat.

  “Long enough,” he answered. The two men hadn’t spoken in a few days, not since their last fight. Still, the detective wasn’t surprised to find his uncle stopping by unannounced. Such a move was completely in character for the man.

  “Do you need something?” Ryan asked.

  “Why do you always think I want something?”

  “I didn’t say want.” Ryan clarified. “I said need. I don’t much care what you want.”

  It was perhaps a somewhat harder answer than the man deserved but then again the two mens relationship had always been a rocky one. There was love of course. Pauley was after all, the only father figure he’d ever known.

  But age does strange things to people and in the case of his uncle age had been a tricky mistress. It seemed nothing either of them did could stabilize the man or save him from making the same mistakes over again. It seemed to the detective that his uncle had given up, that he was simply biding his time until the Lord pulled his name.

  “You don’t gotta be such an ass, sonny.” Pauley sneered. “It don’t look good on a man.”

  “What are you doing here Pauley?”

  “I heard what happened last night.” He began. “There was video all over every news channel and you were in all of them.”

  “I’m a police officer. I don’t see why that surprises you.”

  “I heard the kid might not make it,” the words weighed heavy on Ryan, causing his heart to palpitate and flutter. “I know how you get when it comes to children. That man… he died.”

  “The father.” Ryan clarified. “Yes, he shot himself.”

  “You sure about that?” Pauley slowly cut his eyes toward his nephew, the look on his face saying more than any words could.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve seen the videos, boy. I know you two were alone in that alley and I know it was your gun that ended his life. What I want to know is; who pulled the trigger?”

  Was he being serious, Ryan thought. Had his uncle just accused him of murder?

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “They said he was drinking. That he mistook the parking lot for a street and slammed through that fancy new restaurant.”

  “They’re right. But just because I was there doesn’t mean I-” He stopped. “This is about Riley White, isn’t it?”

  “I’m just sayin’ boy, it don’t look good. I think you need to be prepared for what might come.” His uncle’s rough voice sounded more accusatory than caring.

  “That was years ago,” he answered. “I’d barely had my badge two months.”

  “But you and I know the truth.”

  “No.” Ryan snapped. “You don’t know the truth. No one does except for me and Riley White.”

  “Well Riley White ain’t talking.”

  The detectives pulse began to race as his uncles suggestion. Years had passed since that single night almost ended his career and the detective had worked hard to put it behind him. He still remembered the icy streets, the way the cool winter air nipped at his neck and the way his hands struggled to move in the unforgiving temperatures.

  Riley White was a big man, much larger and more experienced than the young officer. His fist landed hard against Ryan’s chest, sending him falling backward onto the glass-like streets. He struggled with the man for what felt like hours as he fought to keep his weapon fr
om being turned on him until a single shot tore through the blistering winter air.

  “I’m not talking about this again,” he said. “That was years ago. I gave my statements. I waited in torment not knowing if I’d ever have a career or if I’d end up behind bars because I tried to defend myself. It’s over Pauley.”

  “Nothing is ever really over, kid. Don’t you know that?” He narrowed his eyes. “I hope that for your sake they don’t but something tells me the media is going to find out your past. Once can go down as a mistake but this is the second time you’ve chased someone into an alley only to have them die and you walk away without a scratch.”

  “Coincidence,” he assured his uncle. “Nothing else. Besides, that was years ago. No one is going to bring it up and what if they did? I’m innocent here. That man took his own life.”

  The two men sat silently watching the morning sun climb higher into the southern sky. Calming warmth began to reflecting across the water, soothing Ryan in a way few other things could. Was he really going to leave this place behind, he wondered.

  “I’m leaving the police force,” he looked to the aged man next to him.

  “Ain’t no need in talking crazy, boy. I’m just sayin’ you-”

  “No,” his nephew stopped him. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. I’ve already told the chief.”

  “What will you do then?” Pauley asked. “Have you thought about it?”

  It was a simple question. It just happened to be one Ryan Devereux didn’t want to answer. The truth was, he’d thought about it a little bit, though not nearly as much as he should have. He had no plan, no direction and no sense of where the future might lead him in the coming days.

  “Maybe I’ll leave,” he said. “Somewhere new. Texas… Oregon… I don’t know.”

  In that moment Ryan realized for the first time that leaving the Lowcountry behind also meant leaving his uncle behind. He hadn’t given much thought to the man over the last few weeks, especially with them not having spoken since their last fight.

  “I thought you were stronger than this.”

  “What?” Ryan asked.

  “I know why you’re running, boy.” Pauley answered. “I heard you.”