In the Nick of Time

by Laveen, Tiana

  Crook.

  He was stealing her heart…

  Thief.

  She’d been robbed of her resolve.

  Police Officer.

  Copped a feel of her mind and wouldn’t let go…

  Against her best intentions. Despite their rough start. Like a hound on the trail, he wouldn’t let go. He never gave up…

  …On her.

  Never gave up on her.

  There were intervals, pieces and places in time while they sat in group when he would reveal himself to her, as if slowly removing his coat buttons once again… freezing to death so he could be free at last. Yes, he was sitting there amongst his peers, yet, his declarations weren’t geared towards them. They weren’t for Frieda, either. No, he parted his lips and allowed the painful narratives to spill forth for her… His eyes would hood and his top lip would lift in a smirk, as he’d pause between his confessions. All the while, he’d stare at her. Only at her…

  Sometimes his stories were funny; other times, he knocked the breath out of her and caused a tear or two to roll. She hated that. She’d heard her share of sad tales, even told a few, but there was just something about his that had a special way of fucking up the rest of the damn day.

  He didn’t appear moved by his personal fables, his broken state of being, but he was…he had to have been. For here he was, explaining how in the hell he ended up in rehab. The man intrigued her for he came from a place she knew nothing of, but understood all about. He was her opposite, yet her twin. He was her light and her darkness, too. He was her shadow, stealing away time, then reversing the day, offering a new start, a new beginning.

  All of this amazed her, drew her closer to the man, pulled her inside of his web of mystery.

  He’s so different from me…but we are so much alike…

  And she liked that; she liked that a lot.

  She had large, evergreen Christmas trees during the holidays. The brown-skinned angel would be wrapped in ivory and gold and her white, sparkling wings would span out like heavenly silk wafting in the wind. She didn’t know what type of Christmas trees Nick had…but if she were a betting woman, it wouldn’t have looked like her fond childhood memories of Christmases past. Her family had a picturesque background, and within its perfect little frame stood an astute, accomplished, and successful younger brother to help her life look even more like a professionally photographed postcard. On the other hand, according to his own testimony, Nick had undergone tremendous emotional suffering, and had youthful memories of a cold apartment with no hot water, a pile of stolen goods he planned to hock during his teens, and a genetic history that was half missing. He put her in mind of a modern day slave to himself, his environment and his addiction. Of a walking, beautiful tragedy with a powerful will to continue to climb against the tide, and she hated that it made her that much more attracted to him.

  He reminded her of dangerous candy, the kind one knew was spiked with something wicked—razor blade laden, evil, spell inducing. It would leave you woozy, and she feared he may become her latest obsession, but she bit into him anyway, and he tasted so fucking good. He wasn’t Adam in the Garden of Eden, no; Nick represented the seductive serpent wrapped like a present around the thickest part of the golden branch, holding the shiny forbidden fruit between his two, poisonous fangs.

  …To catch a thief….

  She stole glances at him during cooking class and, on the sly, when no one was looking, she nestled up close, super close, landed a fast kiss across his hard cheek. Before she could see the man’s reaction, she scurried away with her mixing bowl in hand. She didn’t look back, but she knew he was staring at her. The python of a man was no doubt planning her undoing. She kept straight ahead while the teacher talked about their first batch of cranberry walnut muffins…

  Rising and falling…

  Yeast, butter…

  All the things she was never allowed to eat while in the apex of her career. Now here her five foot ten self stood with the flavor of melted chocolate lingering in her mouth, and her lips warm from that brief encounter. He smelled like Christmas, musk and hope, and she smelled like sage, cherries and faith…and together, they made a sweet, delicious aroma that she found downright spiritually intoxicating.

  “Ahh…” She startled. Catching his scent once more, she felt him standing directly behind her amongst the small crowd. The teacher continued to talk, droning on and on about the blueberry versus the wheat germ muffins that were next on tap. He leaned closer into her, his lips a mere centimeter or two from her face. Placing his big, warm hands around her waist, he gave her a bit of a squeeze and then she heard him swallow.

  “So, go back to your ovens and preheat them for 350°…” the teacher announced.

  The crowd began to disperse but before it broke apart like an exploded atom, he embraced and held her like a tiny doll in his grip, then laid a gentle kiss along the sensitive crown of her head. She turned around but it was much too late, for he’d already gone halfway back across the room, moving about as if nothing had happened, bowl in hand, whipping the batter into a creamy frenzy while he gripped the spoon in an expert sort of way.

  That fucking thief is trying to steal my heart…

  He stood there just looking at her for the longest…

  She looked so comfortable, so at ease. The cafeteria was damn near vacant as, ‘When I Was Your Man’ by Bruno Mars played softly in the background. From a distance, he could see her head slowly moving up and down, and her right hand gripping a pencil. In front of her lay a booklet she appeared to be doodling in. He drew closer and closer until they’d made eye contact and he slowly raised his hand at the lady and waved, mouthing, “Hi.”

  She slowly placed her pencil down, closed her pad, then tossed him the most alluring beam he’d ever seen. After a second or two, she waved back, and mouthed, “Hello.”

  He began to walk again, making his way over to the woman, and took a seat beside her.

  “I was hoping to find you here.”

  “And I was hoping you’d find me…”

  His lips curved in a pleased smile.

  “What were you drawing?”

  “Oh, a little something something.” She winked at him, then shoved the booklet a short distance away. He stared at the thing for a moment or two, then clasped his hands together.

  “I came in here to get something to drink, some coffee maybe. It’s a little cold in my room, was trying to get some reading done.”

  She nodded and leisurely pointed out the coffee machine surrounded by the tray of white ceramic cups, assorted sugar and sweetener packets, and the usual carafe of cream sitting inside a bowl of chopped ice.

  “Yeah, but then I saw you and got sidetracked.” He winked.

  “I thought you said you were hoping to find me here?” She smirked as she leaned back a bit and toyed with her pencil.

  “I did… wanted my coffee and to drink it, too.”

  She laughed lightly as her eyes hooded.

  “Good one. Hey…” she said around a smile.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Hmmm.” He scooted a bit closer to her. “Yeah, yeah you can.”

  “What do you think about that situation with Eric Garner?”

  “Mmmm,” He nodded, looked down into his lap for a moment or two. “Is this on or off the record? Actually,” he put his hand up, “it doesn’t really matter. People already know my position on this.”

  “And what position is that?”

  “Taryn, the whole city got together and rallied against this, the injustice of it, right? It was horrible. There is no way to describe to you how I felt when I saw what happened. We can’t go around choking people out like that,” He looked at her sternly. “I don’t know why Officer Pantaleo did that, what was going on in his head. I don’t know the man, can’t answer for him. I only know that we both were sworn in and recited an oath of ethics in front of the National Police Commissioner. A man is dead
and he was the cause; for me, that’s just plain and simple.”

  “I don’t know what this oath you all have to say entailed, but I’m convinced he didn’t take it seriously.” She rolled her eyes in obvious disgust.

  “And that is just one of many examples as to why I needed to stay on the street.” His voice elevated and his blood pumped harder and stronger as he re-lived the moment. “The oath says a lot of things, but one part is this: I will preserve the dignity and will respect the rights of all individuals. Anyone with half a brain has to at least question if that really happened. I don’t believe it did. I felt like these people really need me. They need to see that police officers make mistakes, just like everyone else, but we aren’t all the same! All of this shit going on, it’s crazy.”

  “It is crazy, Nick, and it made me sick to know a cop could do something like that and get away with it. I never really had any run ins with the police before my court case, and even then, I wasn’t treated badly but then again, I was somewhat protected from that in all fairness. But, I’m not stupid. I know it happens more times than people know.” He didn’t miss the look of repugnance on her face.

  “There are a lot of things that happen in all professions, Taryn. Things people don’t know about.”

  “But we are talking about this one, okay? Your profession. I have a black father and a black brother, Nick. My brother has been harassed for absolutely no purpose. He has been followed with his friends and pulled over for no reason. I just don’t understand this!” She threw up her hands. “When is someone going to care? When is someone going to do something about this?”

  “There are people doing things, Taryn. It takes time, it takes initiative, it takes years of basically undoing a system and rebuilding it, but discussions are happening and plans are being made, some of them already implemented.”

  “What plans? I haven’t heard shit.” She sucked her teeth as she gave him the once over.

  “Like retraining. It’s happening right now as we speak. But those stories you miss, right? Don’t recall seeing. Have you ever seen a cop on the news lately where the story was positive, huh?!” He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe one or two here and there but when they actually happen, tell me where the damn news crews are!”

  “You all should not be commended for doing your damn job!”

  “Then don’t fucking condemn us for doing it, either!”

  They looked at each other for a moment or two, the tension rising, but so did the healing.

  “You haven’t, have you?” he asked in a calmer tone. “You don’t see the good stuff. When we do something good, the news doesn’t share those stories. No way; that doesn’t make for good press, you see?”

  She paused, briefly looked away, then nodded in agreement. “Nick, look. People on the whole love wretchedness, messiness, and negativity. For instance, when you see someone tearing another person up, just wait… more are coming to co-sign. It’s like a feeding frenzy. It’s sad but true.”

  “Yeah it’s true more times than not, but you see how you wanted to talk to me about Eric? That’s part of the problem.”

  She looked at him inquisitively. “I don’t understand…”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being curious, but admit it, you thought I was going to defend the officer involved. It was a test. You probably felt this would make a good debate, and you could pick my brain a bit, but there is no debate and there’s nothing to pick, because we agree on this.”

  “Hmm, well.” Her lips twisted to the side as she appeared to deliberate over what he’d said. “Honestly, I wasn’t completely certain what you’d say, but yeah, I guess I did think you’d defend the cop involved.”

  “See what I mean? That’s like me coming to you and saying, ‘Yo Taryn, this black lady had an attitude with me the other day… can you explain that shit to me? How tha hell are you going to do that? Every damn cop in every borough suddenly becomes a murderer because one son of a bitch made the wrong damn choice.” He put his finger up. “And now there are people mourning Eric’s death.”

  “It’s not just one cop though, Nick. It’s a lot, okay?”

  “No, percentage wise it’s not, Taryn. There are considerably more police officers doing the right thing and using reasonable judgment than the opposite, but the opposite gets the most attention because it’s extreme. No, that man did not deserve to die. People look at me and scream, ‘I can’t breathe!’ Well neither can I, goddamn it.” He pointed at himself. “Who said I thought that he was right, huh?! I was one of the people calling down to that man’s precinct and saying he can never work beside me, under any circumstances, and that he should have been serving time!”

  He could see the surprise in her eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s right. My superiors even pulled me into an office and asked me about it. Many of them didn’t approve of my actions and let it be known. I even signed a petition, me and a few other officers in my precinct, to have him removed. I risked my job to speak out, Taryn! I could have been black balled, pushed out, or they could have found an excuse to fire me. Everybody wants to lump us all together, like it’s just one big brain and we all share it. Now yeah, there’s camaraderie, but I’m not going to sit back and act like I agree with everything, because I don’t.”

  “Nick, look, it’s hard to understand it though. The reason being is we are not really seeing cops on television or anything, speaking out against this. What you are describing happened behind closed doors. How would I or anyone else know about this petition? If we—and by ‘we’ I mean your ordinary, everyday citizen—saw more of that, it would be harder for us as outsiders, if you will, to see you all the same.”

  “I get that, I can respect that. That makes perfect sense. I will tell you this though, there are some people who do not want police and community relations to get better, Taryn and those people are on both sides of the fence.”

  They were quiet for a moment or two.

  “Can I ask you something else about this?” She picked up her pencil and twirled it around slowly between her fingers.

  “Yeah.”

  “How would you personally have dealt with that situation?”

  “You know, it’s easy for me or anyone else to sit back and play Sunday morning quarterback, but I will tell you this.” He pointed at her. “We are trained on how to take someone down, how to calm a situation, how to get even a big ass guy like Eric on the goddamn ground. I can take a man his size down by myself if I had to; now, keeping him down is another story, but there are ways to do it. Terrible things happen, best of intentions go wrong, but if you fuck up, you have to be a man and admit it. You can’t just go on, business as usual, and announce justice was served when you know damn well it wasn’t.”

  “Exactly…” she nodded emphatically.

  “How can justice be served when we are justice?! We are the front liners.” He pointed at himself. “The judges and lawyers and probation officers, bail bondsmen, counselors, and prison guards all stand behind us! All of ’em! The cops are the soldiers, we are the troops, and…” He found himself staring at her semi-bald head, and his heart paused, missed a beat.

  “And what?”

  “And…and just like our addictions that tried to take us the hell out of here…” He reached over and gripped her chin, brought her close and looked deeply into her eyes. “…You fought, Taryn… Imagine fighting another type of addiction, but it’s on the streets, and it’s woven in the politics; and you wake up every day and see it spreading from person to person no matter what you throw at it. But every now and again, someone escapes it, because… because you helped make a difference.”

  “You are amazing, you know that?”

  “No, I’m just Nick. You’re the amazing one.”

  She smiled at him as her cheeks caught a warm, peachy glow.

  He looked away, falling into a daydream. “I’m not Officer Daniel Pantaleo, Taryn. I’m officer Nicholas Vitale and I love the people I live around.”

 
; “I can tell… Thanks for having this conversation with me and being open-minded with my questions. I really appreciate it. You’re a good man.”

  He nodded, folded inside of himself, feeling a bit sick… sick of himself as darkness came and grabbed him in a cold embrace.

  “You can tell? I’m second-guessing that a bit now, Taryn. What is love, right? Love is showing concern. Me being drunk on the job isn’t showing love. That’s showing hatred and harm. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately…it’s even kept me up at night.”

  “Nick, don’t do this…” she whispered. “Don’t keep beating yourself up. You’ve acknowledged it, okay?”

  “Yeah, but how could I be so out of control? Let it go on so long?!” She ran her hand up and down his back as he leaned forward, caught his breath, closed his eyes for a spell until he calmed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself, Taryn. I just don’t know…”

  The thief had been robbed of his peace of mind big time… and he resented that he couldn’t arrest his thoughts, and reverse the hands of time…

  Chapter Six

  “But I thought we were supposed to be telling our stories, talking about our lives, and then finding ways to cope with these things.” Nick leaned forward and scratched his head. He was jonesing for a cigarette in the worst fucking way, but his efforts to toss that hankering habit were threatened by increased irritability earlier that morning.

  “You are.” Frieda nodded.

  “Well, I think this is bullshit.” He ran his hand along his eye as he rocked back and forth, trying to settle himself. “Most of the people in here are sharing parts of themselves, and I,” he paused, “am giving all I’ve got, okay? These are private things about my life. Shit, I obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and still don’t, but I’m doing it because I’ve got too much lose if I don’t.” He shrugged. Truly, he was motivated by sheer desire, the memory of his deceased mother, and his job being on the line. He had to get this shit right, to make his troubles bow down to him, not the other way around. When he’d walked into the place that first damn day, he meant business and no matter how hard it got, he was determined to make it, to get through. He never expected it to be easy, and on some days, he was filled with regret, but he kept pushing on…