Intervention: God's Other Children

by Rob Mclean

  “Mr White?” John asked.

  “This is my husband Geoff,” Clarice said. “He’s not well,” she added needlessly.

  Major understatement, thought John, but said, “Pleased to meet you sir,” as he strode across the room to shake his hand. As he approached, John could see that Geoff was in his dressing gown, pyjamas and slippers. A machine thrummed rhythmically in the corner. A green tube snaked across the floor and fed into a mask that Geoff removed to speak.

  “I won’t get up,” he said gruffly. “Not having a good day.”

  John shook his hand and felt how weak and wasted it was.

  “Have a seat,” Geoff said.

  “Can I get you anything?” Clarice asked as John sat in the other sofa chair. It had crochet rugs and cushions on it, and John guessed it was Clarice’s usual spot. “Maybe a glass of your wine?”

  “I won’t,” John said. “I’m driving. A glass of water would be nice though, but you can open it and help yourself.”

  “We don’t drink,” Clarice said. John couldn’t decide if her tone was annoyed or simply curt.

  “Perhaps Angela might like a glass,” John offered, “with her meal?”

  “Angela doesn’t drink either.” This time there was no mistaking the edge in her voice.

  Geoff leaned closer to John and said, “She doesn’t drink when she’s in this house, is what she means.”

  “Oh, sorry. Just water would be fine,” John said to Clarice, who turned without a word and left. John tugged at his collar again.

  “For goodness sake son, undo your top button and loosen that tie before you burst,” Geoff said. “You’re giving me a migraine just looking at you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” John said. “I usually wear one with an elastic when I‘m at work.”

  “So did I. Not strictly regulation, but the captain would turn a blind eye.”

  “You were in the army?”

  “No, son. L.A.P.D.”

  “Police, really?”

  “Thirty-six years. Had to retire.”

  “Bad health?” John guessed.

  “Damned cancer.”

  John nodded in sympathy. He didn’t know what was the right thing to say. He had never come into contact with end stage cancer before.

  “I applied for the L.A.P.D when I left school,” John said.

  “So what happened?”

  “I passed the aptitude tests and all,” he continued.

  “But?”

  “I had also applied at BlackSky at the same time…”

  “And they paid better,” Geoff stated. He knew the story. He had seen a number of his best officers lured away to private security.

  “It’s a growing field. Just look at the army. Outsourcing saves the government lots of money.”

  “Hired cowboys,” Geoff grunted.

  “Yeah, sometimes. But at other times we do different jobs. We’re a bit more versatile.” John wondered what Eloise would say if she could hear him defending the company now.

  “So did you serve in Iraq or Afghanistan?”

  “No,” John said. “I could have, but I wanted to stay in here.”

  Geoff said nothing, just nodded once.

  John felt the old policeman’s incriminating judgement, so he added, “So I could look after my family.”

  “You have a family?” Geoff raised an eyebrow.

  “I have a brother who is studying at U.C.L.A. and a sister who is…” John faltered, trying to find the right word. “Simple,” he decided upon.

  “Don’t you have parents?” Geoff asked. John wondered if his directness was because of his lack of breath or because of his policeman’s nature.

  “My father died when I was young, and my mother is with a recovering alcoholic,” John stated as if giving evidence.

  “So you’re the responsible adult?”

  John nodded. “So it would seem.”

  Geoff reached over and patted him on his knee. “Well, thank dear God you are.”

  John looked into Geoff’s face and could see the old man’s chin quivering. His eyes were rheumy and watery.

  “Thank God you are,” he repeated. A tear welled up and rolled down the old man’s cheek to be lost in his patchy grey beard.

  “She might be twenty-one or -two or whatever, but she’s still my little girl, you know. I’m so glad that she wasn’t harmed.”

  John wasn’t sure what he should do. Comforting old men wasn’t within his comfort zone. He patted Geoff’s hand and said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure anyone would have done the same,” but he knew it was a lie.

  “No, when you’ve seen what I have over the years, you know what could have happened to her.” He reached up his sleeve, found a crumpled tissue and wiped his eyes. “Don’t mind me,” he said.

  “She was lucky, that’s all,” John said.

  “Lucky you were there, dear,” Clarice said. She had returned with his glass of water. He hadn’t heard her approach and didn’t know how long she had been standing and listening. “Yes, we’re all very thankful,” she added and handed John his water.

  “Now that’s all said and done, might we have some dinner?” she said, moving the topic right along.

  Geoff started to stand. John could see that it was going to be a mammoth task for the old man. Clarice put her hands under Geoff’s arms and started to pull him up. John put his water down on one of the many coffee tables and without asking lifted Geoff up onto his feet effortlessly.

  “You know, I was once strong like you,” Geoff said, squeezing his arm.

  John saw that although the cancer had wizened him considerably, Geoff was still only a bit shorter than himself even now. In his day, John had no trouble imagining him as a powerful, square-jawed workhorse upholding the law. It was shocking to see what the cancer had taken from him.

  “I’d say you were,” John agreed.

  “Shall I get the wheelchair?” Clarice asked.

  “No. I can still walk, woman,” Geoff said proudly, but he kept an arm around John’s shoulders as they made their way slowly out the room.

  “Yes, dear,” was all she said.

  In the hallway, Geoff stopped and pointed John to one of the photos on the wall. “That’s me.”

  John saw a broad-chested middle-aged man in the navy blue L.A.P.D. dress uniform with a matching broad smile. A silver service medal complimented his sergeant’s stripes.

  “I bet you put the wind up a lot of bad guys,” John said.

  “Damn right I did,” Geoff chuckled, “and quite a few rookies too.”

  “You were the man.”

  “I was. I sure was.”

  “And still are, dear,” Clarice added.

  “Ha!” he said dismissively. His wizened finger moved on to another photo. “Here’s one of my little girl.”

  The photo he pointing to showed a little girl, no more than five years old with her blond hair in pigtails and a thunderous expression on her face. She was sitting in a wading pool and wasn’t happy about it.

  “Stop it, Dad; you’re embarrassing me,” Angela’s voice sang out, causing all eyes to look to the top of the stairs. She wore ballet flat shoes and a simple floral summer dress with a blue scarf that covered her blond locks. She had the same thunderous expression as her photo.

  “Ah, so nice of you to join us,” Geoff said to her as she wafted down the stairs.

  “I see you’ve met my rescuer then?”

  Geoff, who still had one arm around John’s shoulders, patted John on the chest and declared, “This is a good man.”

  “Dad! You’re like, totally embarrassing me now.” She stomped her foot.

  “Forget that boy you’ve been seeing,” continued her father. “This is a good man.”

  Angela stormed off through to the dining room.

  “Don’t worry about her,” he said. The reason she’s taken so long to come down and join us is that she’s probably gone through most of her extensive wardrobe trying to decide what to wear for you.”


  “Dad!” Angela wailed from the next room.

  Clarice put her hand on Geoff’s arm. “Now, dear…”

  “She thinks she is embarrassed,” he continued unabated. “Embarrassed is what she has made her parents feel.”

  “Dear!” Clarice demanded angrily.

  “Okay, okay. Enough already,” Geoff said. Clarice went to see Angela. John could hear she was crying. Not knowing what else to do, John thought he’d try to stick with the original plan to get Geoff to the dining table for dinner.

  “Shall we get you seated?” John asked. “You’ll have to direct me.”

  They shuffled across the hallway towards the room on the right of the hallway. John could see it was the dining room, and the table had been set for four. He could see that a chair had been moved to be sat in, but now he could hear Angela and her mother in the room beyond.

  “Sorry to drag you into the family problems,” Geoff said, stopping before entering the dining room. “I just worry about her so much.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” John said. He wanted to say something about all families having problems and that his was no exception, but he realized that it probably wasn’t the best time.

  “I just want to see her settled before I go.”

  “Go?” asked John.

  “Away for the big holiday in the sky,” Geoff said in a monotone.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry,” John said as understanding dawned. “That’s understandable. You want the best for her. Every parent would.”

  John could see through to the kitchen where Clarice was with Angela. He raised his voice slightly so she could hear.

  “You’ve done what you can for her by bringing her up, and by now she is pretty much who she is going to be. You know, she is a big girl now, and sooner or later she’ll be having to look after herself.”

  “You might be right,” Geoff conceded, “but you don’t understand. She’s our only child. We couldn’t have children. We tried everything and we had resigned ourselves to that. Then late in life, I was nearly forty when we were blessed with our Angela. She is so precious to us…” he stopped and drew in a ragged breath, “to me.”

  “I know,” John said. He could sympathize with them, but it only added to the pressure he felt to make a good impression.

  “And I won’t be around to look out for her.”

  “But you’ll have to let her go either way,” he said as gently as he could.

  “I know, but it kills me to lose her.”

  Angela ran in from the kitchen sobbing and threw hew arms around her father. John supposed that she wanted to say things like, ‘Dad, I love you. I’m so sorry. I’ve been so confused lately and I’ve done some stupid things. Can you forgive me please?’ Having her father so ill must make it hard. No one would want to argue when he could be gone before it was patched up, but all she managed to say was “Dad.”

  John still had his arm around Geoff’s shoulder. He tried to shift the weight onto Angela and extricate himself from the family situation. He felt a little awkward and looked to Clarice for direction, but she only briefly met his eye. All he could read from her expression was a mixture of impatience, embarrassment and maybe even anger. She excused herself to get some tissues from the kitchen.

  “Look, maybe I should go,” John ventured.

  Angela smiled at him sympathetically over her father’s shoulder and just nodded. John nodded back.

  “Nice to have met you, Mr White.”

  “Are you going?” Geoff asked. “What about dinner?”

  “It’s probably best that I go,” John said as Clarice returned with the tissues. She also simply nodded in agreement.

  “I’m sorry, son,” Geoff said. “I get a bit emotional sometimes. Don’t mind me.”

  “I would too, sir, in your position.”

  “Don’t forget your bottle of alcohol,” Clarice said with pursed lips.

  “No, you keep it,” John replied.

  Clarice frowned and put it in a rack that John hadn’t noticed before, along with half a dozen other bottles. A puzzled expression flashed across his face as he briefly wondered if they too had been brought by mistake by other past suitors.

  “Will you come again another time?” Geoff asked.

  John looked at Angela, who groaned with yet more embarrassment and rolled her eyes to briefly look to her mother.

  “I’d like to,” John said before he realized that Angela was asking her mother. Clarice gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  Geoff shook John’s hand. “Another time then.”

  “I’ll get my people to talk to your people, and we’ll do lunch sometime,” John joked.

  “Sure,” Angela said. “Let me walk you to the door.”

  John said his goodbyes to Angela’s parents and was led out the front door. Before he stepped outside, he heard Geoff say, “I like this one.” He hoped Geoff was talking about him and not the dinner.

  Angela closed the front door and stood on the porch with John. “Sorry about my crazy dad.”

  “It would be hard for him, in his condition,” John said, “and he does mean well…”

  “Hmmm maybe. Oh, and those bottles of wine in the rack? They were all retirement presents from work colleagues who didn’t know him well enough to know he doesn’t drink.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “I could see you wondering, ‘Just how many times has this sort of thing happened?” she laughed.

  “No, not at all…”

  “You lie badly,” she teased. “Probably comes from being a good man.”

  “Oh, you noticed that? That was just a bit embarrassing.”

  “For you and me both,” she agreed.

  “Can’t complain about his good taste though.” John grinned.

  “Oh sure.” She turned away to lean on a veranda post and looked out across the front lawn and into the setting sun as it shone through the leaves of the golden elms. “He always has been so judgemental towards anyone I met. Protective, I guess. But that, along with being a police sergeant, meant that there’s only been one that has passed the grade.”

  “Until now,” John gave her a quick grin. The setting sun outlined her perfect figure through her flowery dress, reminding him why he had travelled right across town to see her.

  “Well, he is getting old and his eyesight isn’t what it used to be; in fact I’m not sure if he isn‘t losing it altogether…” She shot him a playful glance.

  John moved to stand close to her. He ran his hand up her arm and rested it on her shoulder. “Doesn’t really matter what you father says about me. What do you want?”

  She turned to face him. “Do you want to see me?”

  “Sure,” he answered without hesitation.

  “Why?

  “Pardon?”

  “Why do you want to see me?” she repeated. “You’ve seen my parents. You know I have a boyfriend already and that I’m a Christian and you‘re not.”

  “Sounds like you’re putting up barriers.”

  “No, I just want you to see what you’re up against.”

  “Well, for a start, your dad likes me. Not too sure about your mom. Your boyfriend is a jerk, so…”

  “So that only leaves a little thing like God to stand between us then,” she finished.

  “It’s only a problem if you want it to be,” he countered.

  “It won’t work.”

  “Did I mention that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world? Even when you’re angry.”

  “Ha! That won’t work either.”

  “Is that why you invited me up here? To tell me that it won’t work between us?”

  “No, it was for my parents… and me,” she added, “to say thank you for looking after me the other night.”

  “No problem, would have done it for anyone.”

  “Yes, you probably would have too,” she agreed. “Part of being a good man, I suppose.”

  “But not good enough for you it seems.”

  “It’s
not that,” she faltered. “It’s…complicated.”

  “I may not be as smart as my rocket scientist brother, but try me,” he urged.

  “For a start, there’s those tablets,” she said. “The ones you took from Zeke the other night.”

  “What about them?”

  “Do you still have them? I want them back.”

  “They’re evidence,” John replied with suspicion.

  “For what? There’s been no crime. I’m not likely to be pressing charges against my boyfriend.”

  “You should. Who knows what he was going to do with you?” said John.

  “I know, but let’s not go there just now. Okay?”

  “Okay. So, what do you want with these illegal medications? Planning some revenge on your boyfriend?”

  “No.” Angela paced to the window and peered inside. She went back over close to John and whispered, “They’re for dad.”

  “What? I don’t get it? They aren’t painkillers.”

  “No, they’re for when the end comes.” She searched his face for understanding. “An overdose, to help him along.”

  “But can they be used for that?” he asked. “I thought they were a date rape drug. I suppose they have a real medical use as well. But are you sure they’ll work?”

  “Zeke said that his friend was an expert and knew about these things,” she said.

  “You mean Blake, the chubby geek that was going to…”

  “Shhh,” she urged.

  “…going to take you home?”

  “Zeke said that Blake’s father is a pharmacist, and when we explained what we wanted them for, he said Blake would work out which tablets to get.”

  “And Blake’s dad was okay with that?”

  “No, he didn’t know. Blake was going to look it all up on the internet and get the right ones.”

  “Steal them, you mean?”

  “I paid Zeke to pay Blake. If Blake stole them, then that’s his problem.”

  It was John’s turn to pace the veranda. He walked its length and sat facing the driveway. Angela followed and sat beside him. For a while, he said nothing. He just sat staring at the weeds in the cracks of the driveway concrete. The cat came over and nuzzled against his leg. He gave it an absent scritch behind its ear.