Discovering Ashes (part 5)

The drive to the call went faster than I expected – helps that there wasn't any traffic. Winter kinda does that sometimes. People hate getting out on icy roads and all, y'know? Dex stayed quiet, which was weird for him. Normally he was always talking about some city down south that he wanted to retire to, or how much of a jaggoff the mayor is, or some bullshit like that. It was nice to hear him shut up for a change, but that whole talk we had about him being a cigar or something kept running through my mind.

"Alright," I said, turning the wheel to the left. Through the windshield I could see the woman who'd made the call. Mrs. Winnefrod was a nice old bat, but crazier than Chuck Manson sometimes. She always wore this... nightgown thing. I dunno what the hell it was, but it was always some shade of blue whenever we showed up. I think the woman bathed in it, for chrissakes! Today wasn't any different, either. She stood on her porch, snow everywhere, in her blue nightgown, tapping her foot on the ice. God, she was even barefoot! What the hell was wrong with this woman?!

Discovering Ashes (part 4)

Smelling Dex's cigars was good and all, but after having sat in front of the local bar waiting for some jackass to storm out, drunk as hell, for the past three hours, I was starting to get bored. You can't really do much in the way of free time as a cop. Not while you're on duty. Some cops go grab a bite to eat whenever they feel like it, sure, but not me. I stick to my own ideas about patrol; you don't eat unless you have to, and you don't go wandering around without any idea of where you're going to. Everything's got a purpose, and I ain't no different. But dammit, I hated the cat and mouse game we always played. It was always "Go there and sit and wait, bust anyone we can" or "Let's head over to Joe's and see if we can catch anyone speeding". Important work, but I'd rather catch some douchenozzle trying to rape some schoolgirl than just sit on my ass and wait for some arrogant pisshead of a teenager to come flying by in mommy's SUV.

"Hey Dex," I asked. He answered with a puff of smoke. "If you hate this job so much, why don't you retire?"

Dex just laughed for a second before taking his cigar from his mouth and holding it up in front of his face. After having worked with Dex so long, you'd think I'd have seen just about every expression the guy has to offer. Not this time. This time, the look on his face scared me a bit. Well, not so much scared, so much as it worried me. The way he stared at that cigar, watching it slowly turn to ashes in his hand was just... unnatural for him.

"Y'see, Jack," He said, twisting the cigar to get a better look at it's side. "I'm like this here cigar, y'know? I got a slow burn until someone comes and starts suckin' the life outta me. The way I see it, a Cigar's best little moment is that last puff, y'know? That one, last flash of light and fire before some fucker goes and puts it out for good."

"Dex," I paused. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

"It means that I wanna go out like a cigar! I wanna have that one last flash a fire. Way I see it, bein' a cop's the best way for me to do that."

I looked at my partner, trying to figure him out for the first time in two years. Was he honestly saying he wanted to go down in some stupid blaze-of-fuckin'-glory? The hell kinda way was that to go? Dex was a good guy, a damn good cop when he wanted to be, and my friend most of all. So why the hell would he want to go looking for his own OK Corral?

"Alright, Butch if you wanna go out like that, maybe I can call up a few jackasses in Harbor Pen and see if they're up to having it out with an old Blue Boy like yourself."

It was a joke, of course, but Dex looked over to me with a sad smile on his face. The ashes from his cigar fell onto his lap, but he didn't notice.

"Would you?" he asked. Chills went up my spine. Did Dex want me to call in a few favors I'd racked up and get him his last wish? His stupid smile disappeared into a childish laugh and I had to take a few figurative steps back to get in touch with whatever reality I'd just stepped in.

"You shoulda seen the look on your face!" He giggled. I could only laugh lightly. I could feel the blood rush to my face as I got embarrassed and pissed at the same time. I felt like punching Dex for his stupid little prank, but I still couldn't fight the nagging little voice that kept saying 'He ain't bluffing, Jack' over and over again.

"Ah, you're a fuckin' asshole, Dex," I punched his arm for being such a jackass, smiling the whole time. Despite the little voice, Dex was always a joker and I should've expected that from him. Just as he started brushing off the ashes into the floor of our car, our radio crackled into the air with a report of a possible burglary a few blocks away. Dex took a long drag on his cigar, waving his hand at the radio.

"Fuck it, Jack. That's the crazy bitch from last week. Y'know, the one that thought a black gorilla was trying to steal her car?"

"The one with the cats?"

"Very same."

"You're right. Fuck it. I'll let 'em know we're on our way, but I think we might be having some car trouble. What do you think?"

"Fuckin' thing won't even start"

I shared a laugh with Dex before picking up the radio and pressing the button on the side. The radio came to a sudden halt as I took a breath to calm myself and tell the entire force that we were on the call.

"Car 44's on it. Just let the caller know we'll be a bit late. Having some car issues. Nothing we Can't handle. Should take all of ten minutes."

"Car 44," the woman's voice on the other end said at first. "What's your ETA to the call?"

"We're about five minutes away, so about fifteen minutes in all. Car 44 out."

I put the radio back down in it's little holster and smiled. Dex finished his Cigar, stuffing it into the ashtray of our patrol car. the last remnants of it's smell rose into the air, hitting my nose. I took a deep whiff of it, loving each second of it. I felt great, sitting, relaxing, smelling cigar smoke. Nothing would ruin this day, Partner Suicide comments aside. Before I knew it, though, our ten minutes were up. Dex was kind enough to let me know that. Like I said; he might've hated the job now and then, but he was a good cop. We said 15 minutes, and we'd be there right on time by God.

I took a few extra moments to pull out my cigarettes and lighter. Putting the cigarette between my lips, I instantly tasted the minty flavor. The lighter in my free hand felt so natural as I flipped it open in a quick motion. I put the pack of cigarettes back in my pocket before I flicked the light on. The flames felt warmer than usual when I pulled the lighter close to my face to light the cigarette.

Discovering Ashes (part 3)

"Hey, Jack, you gotta light?" I heard next to me. My partner, Dexter Thomas had this weird thing with his voice. Sounded like he was from New York or something. I didn't want to make it worse on his throat by giving him my lighter either, but... the guy helped me out now and then. Gave me and the kids some extra cash when he could afford it. I owed him a lot, even if he did get kinda annoying now and then. Especially with his constant "Fuck dis JAHB" talk.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," I told 'im. I reached into the right breast pocket of my uniform and pulled out my lighter. I loved that lighter. I could say it was because it was the last thing my Dad ever gave me or some bullshit like that, but I'd be lying. It was just the only Lighter I'd ever had. My lucky charm, too. The thing actually saved my life once. Don't know how the hell it managed to do it, but somehow, by the grace of God, the thing set some douchebag with a Glock on fire a few years ago. Poor guy must've had some oil on 'im or something, 'cause boy did he ever light up!

"Here," I handed him the black and white Zippo. "Just don't lose it, alright? Thing saved my-"

"Saved ya ass, I know Jack, ya told me tha fuckin' story a hundred times!"

"It's a good fuckin' story, you lousy son of a bitch! And you know it!"

We shared a laugh together before Dex flicked the flame on. What, you want me to give you a technical rundown of how the sparks lit the gas? Fuck that, I ain't no engineer. I didn't build the damn thing! No matter, 'cause he put the fire up to the end of his cigar and drew a few breathes to get it going. I don't know why, but I've always liked the smell of cigar smoke. Me? I prefer cigarettes, but the smell of cigars are beautiful, y'know? Kinda like that smell you get when a match burns only with some extra kick! Some oomph that you don't get anywhere else!

Dex nodded his thanks, flicking his wrist and closing the lid. I heard the small little noise that flames make when they die out, and knew that it didn't have to check twice to make sure it'd gone out. Not many people can hear the sound of the flame blowing out, but I can. Only on my lighter, though. Kinda weird, but me and that lighter've been through hell and back together. I know every little detail like the back of my hand. The small spade emblem in the center, engraved, felt perfect on my thumb while I put the lighter back in it's proper spot behind my carton of menthols. With Dex smoking his cigar - I swear those babies were Cuban - I didn't dare ruin the smell with my menthols.

Discovering Ashes (part 2)

I was one of the lucky ones to just get a transfer. Problem was, I went from patrolling the southeast side of the city – one of the more useful spots to patrol since it got hit with a lot of house intruders, burglaries, etc - to sitting in my car with a partner who couldn't give two shits about his job. Oh, he was a good cop – when he wanted to be. Problem was, he was tired of the job. Can't blame the guy for it; he was almost forty-five for Chrissakes. I was just pissed about going from a quick response to some kid's Xstation or Playbox or whatever getting stolen to “Okay Ma'am, and you say it was a brown cat who stole your laundry?” I went from actually facing down some scared-shitless punk with a 9mm every now and then to dealing with some of the weirdest sons-of-bitches I've ever seen.

Y'know what the biggest problem we had thanks to that arrogant prick in office was? It was fuckin' Christmas. Yeah – along with all of that “winter is a magical time” crap comes “Peace on Earth and Goodwill t'wards men” which nobody but us cops actually practice. Christmas time is usually my busiest time 'cause of the number of assaults (Also the reason I hate it when I get scheduled with work on Thanksgiving Night), robberies, and even one or two rapes. It gets interesting when you respond to a call about Santa raping one of his elves. There's some fucked up people in this world, and that jackoff had the balls to actually shrink the force? What kind of stupid decision is that? Hell, what kinda idiot voted him in?

​

Discovering Ashes (part 1)

An original story. Copyright Aaron Matney 2010

Some people romanticize winter. Talk about how 'beautiful' or 'majestic' the snow is, maybe even how 'magical' it seems to be. Hell, some people might even go so far as to say that its the most wonderful time of the year! That's all well and good and perfectly alright for them to say so – unless you're a cop. I'll be the first to tell you that a cop's work is dirty work. Probably the dirtiest out there outside of maybe running drugs for some faceless crime boss. And even then, some cops do that too.

Me? I'm the kind of cop you see in the blue uniform on the city streets. Call me a streetcop if you want, I'll take it as a God damn compliment. That guy you see on the movie, with the trenchcoat and gloves? Detectives. They're the guys who make the streetcop in the movie look like some dumb idiot who only writes up tickets and cracks jokes while cramming donuts into his face. No, see cops like me? We do all the dirty work. We get to the shootouts, we bust the druggies, we catch the God damn murderers! That Law and Order bullshit is just that – Bull. Shit. But hey, that's why I love this job. I get to clean up the streets as best as I can! Make it a safer city for my kids! And really, ain't that all any self-respecting person wants to do?

I do a lot of good for this city. Or at least I did, before that two-bit, two-faced sleezebag of a mayor got elected. I still can't believe his first “official business” trip was to the station to let the chief know that they were closing down the precinct. Said that the 5^th and 4^th would “pick up the slack”. Jesus, did this guy know how many good cops, guys I'd actually bled beside, he'd be firing? Of course he did! Politicians always know what the hell they're doing! They just don't give a rat's ass who it hurts as long as it puts Grant and Franklin in their fat fuckin' wallets.

The Pheonix City

So I'm writing a story. I'm not sure what it's about yet, but it takes place in the Pheonix City. No, that's not it's actual "Name", but that's the nickname it has because of how many times it's hit the precipice of destruction and nearly ceased to exist and still somehow managed to come through it all even stronger than before. I don't know what the main character's gonna look like or sound like, or live like or any kinda like you can think of. I just... have this idea for a city. It's partly due to my renewed love for my own hometown, and partly due to the fact that I just love this idea of a city that keeps failing due to different reasons only to succeed more than it ever had before.

Thoughts?

Why Detroit Is Badass

After the American Music Awards (and my subsequent purging of all things sucky by going on a Zeppelin binge), I started reflecting on things a bit. Y'know, people talk shit about Detroit all the time. When I bring up Detroit in any conversation, people apologize to me, thinking that I want their pity for living in Detroit. Why? I live in the greatest city in the world right now! The Economy sucks, there's no jobs, but despite all of that, there's something that hasn't stopped or been killed out by the damn recession; our spirit.

What's sparked this newfound interest in not just my blog, but also my hometown? Well, the first question can be answered simply that I wanted to and a few friends encouraged me to do so, and for that I thank them wholeheartedly, especially Jane. She's coo', yo. But the second? Honestly, it was Kid Rock's musical number at the AMAs that got me to reflect on my city and just how much I love it. You hear songs like John Rich's "Shuttin' Detroit Down", and it gets you pissed, sure. But it doesn't convey what Detroit IS. You hear "Detroit Rock City" and it gets you pumped, but IT DOESN'T CONVEY WHAT DETROIT IS. Then you hear "Times Like These" (which I'll include at the bottom of this entry, don't worry) and you get a picture in your head. That song EMBODIES Detroit and all Detroiters. And after hearing it and thinking about it, I wouldn't have my town any other way.

See, there's such a rich history here in The D. Not only are we the home of the American Auto Industry, but we're such a huge point in American History in general! We were a French Fort captured by the British, for fucks sake! We used to be French! And that's just awesome (Since they were the Napoleonic era France and not  the pussy French who we all know and... erm... Yeah). Rock and Roll still lives on in the D with a newfound spirit, and we've also got some of the truest Rap/Hip Hop artists out there today. Let's not forget the whole "Motown" thing! We helped run this nation out of the depression when WWII came around thanks to all of the factories we have that were converted to build tanks! Sure, we made a huge mistake when we elected Kwame mayor (twice... Dumbasses), but y'know? We're rebuilding under Bing. What makes this so special is that so many people FLOCKED out of Detroit. Hundreds upon thousands of Families just simply up and left without a second thought! But the people still here? The people who've been here for generations like myself? We're still here. We believe so much in this city that we want to stay here and make it succeed! We stick together despite the problems we're facing.


THAT'S why I love my Detroit. You can keep New York, Paris, London, and all of that. Because y'know what? In each of those cities, every person is just a person. Here in Detroit, MY Detroit, we're all family. We all matter, and we all have some important part to play in keeping this City Alive. And like the Kid said; It's times like these we must embrace.