CHAPTER FIVE
Officer Rick
Max meanders over to the vending machines in the hospital pantry as his mother signs his discharge papers in the hall. He taps on the Plexiglas, dissatisfied with the options this particular machine has to offer. His stomach growls and he settles on a bag of pretzels before taking a seat behind the machine.
He hears a couple of nurses come in. The vending machine blocks Max from their view and he hears their conversation.
“Harriet’s boy was admitted the other night, you know? Alcohol level through the roof!”
“I can’t understand how some parents let their kids get away with so much stuff.”
Max’s face flushes red as he realizes they are talking about him.
“It’s not entirely her fault. Her husband’s a heavy drinker. Can’t keep a job, that’s why she’s always working extra shifts.”
“Guess that’s what happens when you marry for love.”
“Oh stop it! I feel sorry for her. She works so hard, and I tell you I wouldn’t be surprised if that boy ends up just like his father.”
“Mhm, we see it every day. At this rate he probably won’t see 20.”
“True. Well, break time’s over, and I’ve got a bed pan to change.”
Max listens to the sound of their footsteps leaving the pantry before stepping out to find his mother.
“Okay! Are you ready to go?” Mrs. Shaw smiles at Max as she signs the last paper.
“Yeah,” Max answers with little enthusiasm. He looks at the unopened bag of pretzels in his hand and frowns.
“Hey mom?” Max asks. “Can we pick up something to eat on the way home?”
“I suppose it can’t hurt,” Mrs. Shaw shrugs as they leave.
They decide on a drive thru at a Chinese food restaurant. After their orders are taken she glances in her rear view mirror. “Max, may I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Max mumbles, suddenly uneasy.
“Well,” his mother begins, “when you woke up in the hospital, were you scared? I mean, you could have died.”
Max is quiet for a long time. “Not really,” he finally replies. “I mean, everybody dies, right?”
“But not everybody goes to the same place,” Mrs. Shaw says softly.
Max shrugs his shoulders and stares out the window, indicating that the conversation is over. He squints his eyes as the sun looks out above them. The trees sway gently in the fall breeze and birds chirp as they flutter from branch to branch.
The prospect of death—of never seeing these things again—it does scare him. Thinking about what could have happened gave him cold shivers as he lay in the hospital bed the night before. But anyone in his situation would feel the same, and telling his mother the truth would undoubtedly cause her to make something bigger out of it. He was scared, so what? He doesn’t want to think about why. He was just lucky.
“Honey, here's your chicken and rice,” his mother hands him his fork and his food.
Max immediately feels guilty. His mother looks exhausted. She didn’t leave his side the entire time he was at the hospital. Between Max and his father, she had to go through a lot.
“Thanks,” he replies.
“When we get home, I want you to get plenty of rest,” she continues. “You'll be meeting your probation officer tomorrow morning.”
Yay, Max thinks. “I know Ma,” he answers. They drive the rest of the way home in silence. Max is genuinely glad when he sees the dilapidated sign telling him he’s arrived at the Kenoo Springs Trailer Park. Kenoo Springs isn’t much to look at, and the Shaw’s small house looks out of place surrounded by trailers and mobile homes. Max grimaces and compares his home to Jamie’s neighborhood. Knollgrove is the wealthiest neighborhood in Logoria, and Max loves spending time there. Martin’s home in Colera Heights is almost as nice, with a few exceptions. It isn’t as flashy, and his parents haven’t hosted catered parties there since they became Bible thumpers – just the occasional, liquor-free barbecue. Lame.
Kenoo Springs is a ghetto in comparison, but overall a quiet place to live. His parents moved to this house when he was a baby. His father wasn’t too thrilled about Max’s unexpected arrival, but no one could tell by the way his mother told the story. She told Max that he was a gift from God.
Max’s father believed he came from God, too, but not as a gift. His father believed Max was God’s way of punishing him. For what, Mr. Shaw had never elaborated.
He and Mrs. Shaw lived together for a few years before Max came along. It was unintentional, and they got married shortly after his mother found out she was pregnant. A year and a half later his mother become pregnant again, but she lost the second child. She was unable to have any more children after that, and Max often wondered if it was his fault. His mother had gone through various complications while carrying him; at one point doctors suggested an emergency abortion. His father was for the abortion, but Max’s mother fought for him. She won in the end, and, to her detriment, Max was delivered.
The doctors told her she wouldn’t be able to have another child, but his parents had been hopeful when she became pregnant the second time. She miscarried after three months, and her doctors warned that another pregnancy could cost her. Since then, his parents’ relationship had been strained and his father had nursed an already heavy drinking habit.
Max goes straight to bed as soon as they arrive home. He sinks into the plush softness of his pillow and allows his muscles to relax. The last thing he hears before drifting off to sleep is his mother’s voice reminding him that he will meet his probation officer on Monday.
†††
Max doesn’t know what to expect as he stands in Officer Rick's office. It is a sterile, cold looking place. The filing cabinets are arranged in perfect angles against the walls, and the desk is neatly organized. Nothing really stands out, save a single painting on the wall. It has stars and planets and swirling light systems. On the bottom is a tiny inscription, but Max can’t make out what it says. He walks over to Officer Rick's desk, looking at the folders strewn in equal angles with color coded tabs. He spots his name on one of the folders with a blue tab and, without thinking, he picks it up and begins to peruse the contents.
“See anything you like?” a deep voice asks. Max starts and jumps from the desk. He didn't hear Officer Rick come in. His face turns red and Max wishes he had agreed to his mother coming with him.
“Max, there's nothing wrong with having me there,” she had said.
“Mom, I'll be fine,” Max had rolled his eyes at his mother's persistence.
“Are you sure?” she’d asked for the millionth time.
She asked the same question before they left the house, before they parked, before they got out the car, and before she and Max walked into the building.
Each time Max had told her he didn’t need her babying him.
“Unless there's some rule that says you have to be there, I'd rather you weren't.”
Max had ignored the hurt look on his mother's face. It wasn't his fault she couldn’t take a hint.
He didn’t want to be here, but he had no choice. He had no idea what this Rick guy was like, but the last thing he wanted was his mother giving her opinion about everything the man said and lecturing him and fussing over him. She still treated him like he was two years old, giving him nicknames like honey or Maxie or kiddo. He hated that, and he told her so, but moms were impossible.
Now, caught red handed and awkwardly unsure of himself, he would have traded her presence right now for a thousand of those nicknames. Officer Rick is scary-looking. Two words come to mind when Max sees him: big and black. Max has friends who are black, but none of them are as dark or as intimidating as Officer Rick. The man is solid as a rock. His blue uniform doesn’t hide his bulky muscles and his eyes cut through Max like cold steel. Max becomes increasingly anxious during the silence, and he isn't sure whether he should confess or pretend he’s done nothing wrong.
He isn't given a chance t
o decide. “Have a seat, and let's get started,” Officer Rick orders gruffly. Max immediately sits down, unable to respond in any way short of obedience.
“Where is your guardian?” Officer Rick eyeballs Max intensely, and Max knows he can read his thoughts.
He swallows hard, fighting against the lump in his throat. “She’s um…she’s outside. My mother. Sir.”
Officer Rick steps over to his desk and picks up the file Max was looking through. He fingers the pages briefly and then sets the file back down neatly in its place. He sits in his chair, crosses one leg over the other, and spins slightly to the left, twirling a pen as he studies Max.
“Max,” he begins. “Do you know why you’re here?”
What kind of question is that? Max wonders. “Yes sir,” he replies. Max gulps again. He watches as Officer Rick continues to stare him down. Max’s hands become clammy and his heart rate goes up. Officer Rick narrows his eyes and stops twirling his pen. He gets up and walks over to the painting Max had seen earlier.
Officer Rick looks at Max and nods toward the picture. “Do you know what that is?” he asks. Again, Max isn’t given a chance to answer.
“That’s a picture of our solar system. Do you see this dot here?” He points to a small speck on the painting. “That’s our planet. Compared to all the other stuff out there, it seems so small, doesn’t it?” Officer Rick looks at Max, as if waiting for an answer. Max isn’t sure if he is expected to reply, so he says nothing.
Officer Rick continues. “That’s the way many people feel, Max. Small. They don’t recognize their self-worth or appreciate the value of others. They don’t see how the decisions they make can truly affect the people around them or even their own lives. So they act out. My theory is that they’re hoping someone will notice, and help them.”
“My job,” he continues, “is to educate you about yourself. You see, Max, you are not as insignificant as you think you are. Your community is directly affected by the things that you do.” Officer Rick folds his hands behind his back.
“Max, you’re here because you need help. We already have way too many people wreaking havoc in our city and breaking the law. The first step is reformation and rehabilitation. That’s me.” He stares intensely at Max.
“The next step is incarceration. That’s jail. If you don’t accept my help and continue down the path you’re going, you will go to jail.”
Max shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He doesn’t know what to make of Officer Rick. The man is built like an oak tree, and his facial expression is no exception. His eyes are unreadable, and his mouth forms a straight line across his face. Max jumps as Officer Rick suddenly turns to him, placing his hands on the arms of Max’s chair.
“I don’t think you understand why you’re here, Max,” Officer Rick states as he flicks a piece of lint from Max’s shirt.
Max tries to respond. “I um…I was drinking and driving, sir.” Max lowers his eyes, unable to match his probation officer’s dauntless glare.
Officer Rick chuckles, shakes his head, and stands up. “No, Max. In your mind you’re still insignificant. You don’t know your purpose. You don’t know why you’re here.” Max gives him a puzzled look.
“Everyone has a destiny, Max. The sooner you find out what it is, the better off you’ll be. We’re going to find out what your purpose is, Max, so that you’ll become a productive and beneficial member of society. And,” he adds, “You’ll have some inward peace as well.”
Listen To Me Page 6
