Frank Zafiro: Heroes Often Fail

“I’ll be code four for now,” Gio stated, knowing that most of his sector-mates were out at the Academy qualifying with their handguns. He glanced quickly left and right and swung a u-turn. He drove quickly to the address, arriving less than three minutes later.

The house was a single-family rancher, the same as every other one on the block except that it was a lime green. The lawn looked like it was intermittently well-cared for. A woman in her thirties sat on the porch waiting for him. Her hair was a deep red. Gio thought she had the look of a beauty queen turned housewife, with the requisite fifteen or twenty extra pounds thrown in.

“You called the police, ma’am?”

“It’s my daughter,” she said. “She’s upset.”

“Is she hurt?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“Okay,” Gio said and removed his notebook from his shirt pocket.

Most officers waited until they knew that they were going to have to take a report before collecting the necessary biographical information. Gio preferred to get it out of the way quickly. Besides, it gave the citizens a chance to regain a measure of control, since the information he asked them for was information they knew. That was in contrast to the situation most of the time, where the outcome was uncertain for them.

“Your name, ma’am?”

“Jill Ferguson.”

“Middle initial?”

“P.”

Giovanni continued scribbling in his notebook as Jill provided him her remaining information. When he had collected everything he needed, Gio tucked his notebook back into his pocket.

“You said your daughter was upset?”

“Yeah. My daughter Kendra.”

“She’s how old?”

“Six. Frankly, officer, I was a little hesitant to even call. Kendra is a bit of a drama princess, if you know what I mean.”

Gio nodded his head, but said nothing.

She continued. “She also has an active imagination. And both have gotten worse since the divorce. Usually when she gets upset, I either leave her alone for a while and she gets over it or I grab onto her and we just snuggle together. A little mommy-daughter time.”

“But you called this time?”

“Yes. She just seemed more upset than usual and she said ‘something bad’ had happened. But she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“The dispatcher said she was playing with her friend before she came home?”

Jill nodded. “Yes. Her best friend, Amy Dugger.”

“Do you suppose she had a falling out with her friend? That could make a six-year-old think the world was ending.”

“I don’t know. I tried to call Kathy-that’s Amy’s mom-but no one answered.”

Gio nodded. “And Kendra wouldn’t tell you what happened, you said?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Would she tell her father, do you think?”

Jill scowled. “I doubt he could tear himself away from his new girlfriend long enough to acknowledge he has a daughter.”

Gio let that pass. “So you think she might tell me?”

Jill shrugged. “I hope so. She really liked the officer that visited her school back in January. Do you know Officer Will? Sorry, I don’t know his last name.”

“Officer Will Reiser,” Gio said. “He works on my platoon.”

“Really? Well, she thought he was great. I guess he told funny stories or something. Anyway, I figured maybe she would talk to a police officer.”

“I’d be happy to try,” Gio said.

Typical day shift call , he thought. The Day tour was filled with lost puppies and Billy-hit-Tommy calls, sandwiched between serious calls such as armed robberies and domestic violence. In a way, that made this tour even more dangerous than graveyard. At least on graveyard, you knew you were in constant danger and could remain constantly vigilant. On days, an officer needed to soften his image a bit and work harder at public relations, since a greater percentage of the people he came into contact with were regular, tax-paying citizens. The danger level was more sporadic and an officer could find himself having difficulty shifting between the two modes.

She stood and opened the screen door, motioning him inside.

Gio entered the house and saw that it was well-kept. A few toys lay around, mostly sports equipment and guns. “You have boys, too?”

“Two. Alex and Mason.”

“How old?”

“Thirteen and nine.”

The door to Kendra’s bedroom had a crayon drawing of a sunflower taped to it. Gio smiled at it.

Jill knocked lightly on the door. “Ken? It’s Mommy. There’s a visitor here for you.”

There was no answer.

Jill looked at Gio and shrugged, then reached for the door knob. Gio caught her hand lightly and held it.

“If it’s okay with you,” he whispered, “and if she seems okay with it, I’d like you to step out of the room after you introduce me.”

“Why?”

“She might be more willing to talk to me without you in the room. You said she’s had good experiences with the police, so she shouldn’t be afraid of me. But kids just seem to clam up with their parents in the room. That’s been my experience, anyway.”

Jill hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. If you think it’s best.”

“I do. Unless you can see that she is uncomfortable with me. If that’s the case, then by all means, stay. I’ll leave it up to you. You know her best.”

“Okay,” Jill said.

Gio nodded to her and she nodded back. He let go of her hand and she opened the door to Kendra’s room.

Kendra sat on her bed, her back pressed against the corner where two walls met. Her knees were drawn up to her chest. Gio could see that she had been crying and that her face now bore a haunted look. His concern quickly grew.

“Baby, this is Officer…” Jill glanced over at Gio.

“Officer Giovanni,” Gio told her. He looked into Kendra’s eyes and smiled. “But you can call me Gio. All my friends do.”

Kendra didn’t respond.

Gio walked slowly toward the bed. When he reached the edge, he squatted down on his haunches, bringing himself to Kendra’s eye-level. There was a groaning creak of leather as he lowered himself and his radio chattered with some unrelated traffic. He shut it off.

“Kendra?” he said, keeping his voice soft and a small smile on his lips. “Your mom told me you know Officer Will. Is that true?”

At the mention of Reiser’s name, her eyes lit up with recognition. She nodded her head, but said nothing.

“I know Officer Will, too,” Gio told her. “In fact, he’s one of my good friends.”

Kendra looked at him but said nothing.

“He’s funny, isn’t he?” Gio asked. “He tells me funny stories all the time when we’re working. Did he tell you any funny stories?”

Kendra stared at him for a moment. Then, a small grin touched her lips. She nodded her head.

“What story did he tell you?”

Kendra spoke in soft, little-girl tones. “About the bad guy that hid in the garbage can. You know that story?”

“Yes, I do,” Gio said. “He told it to me, too.”

Gio was aware of movement behind him and realized that Jill Ferguson had left the room.

“How old are you, Kendra?” he asked.

She raised six fingers. The gesture seemed a little young for her, but he shrugged it off.

“I’m this many,” he said and flashed all ten fingers about six times.

Kendra giggled.

He shifted his weight and continued. “Kendra, do you know why I’m here?”

She hesitated, then shook her head.

“Well, you’re not in any trouble. I’m here because your Mommy is worried about you. Do you know why?”

Kendra shrugged.

“She said you were upset about something, but you wouldn’t tell her what. So she’s worried. Are you upset, Kendra?”