Bernard Schaffer - Superbia

“But that’s a marked patrol car, sir.”

“Quite correct. And since you are only a patrol officer who is temporarily assigned elsewhere, that is your vehicle.”

“And what do I do when that car is being used by someone else?”

Erinnyes leaned back and folded his hands over his enormous belly. “As I think about it, it occurs to me that you might need to use an unmarked vehicle at times. Should that occur, you are to call me directly and request permission to use it. That doesn’t mean anyone else who works in this police department, including what passes for a detective around here. That means me.”

“Or the Chief?” Frank said.

Erinnyes smiled thinly and said, “That goes without saying.”

“Whatever works, boss,” Frank said. He hurried out of the station and was barely into the parking lot when he started unscrewing the cap on his prescription bottle. His cellphone buzzed. He picked it up and saw that it was Vic sending him a text message: Meet me behind the old Banner Building at 0300. We’re pulling garbage, so dress appropriately.

He put back his phone just as a marked patrol car came pulling into the parking lot. Officer Iolaus backed into his parking space and got out of his car, carrying his plastic lunch pail, smiling at Frank. “Shift’s over, buddy,” Iolaus said. “Sometimes, I can’t believe they really pay me to do this. You can have all that defective shit. It’s just me in my little world, driving around the township.”

Frank nodded as Iolaus kept walking past, going into the station. He poured whatever was left in the bottle into his hand and swallowed the pills without counting them.

The school bus produced a mechanical stop sign, flashing red lights to stop traffic at the intersection in every direction. Vic watched the first few kids come out of the bus, carrying colorful school bags, laughing and pushing each other. Jason was behind them, waiting to get down from the lowest step. “Hey bud,” Vic said.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d walk you home. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Jason said. “I didn’t think I was going to see you until Wednesday.”

“I didn’t want to wait. How are things in the house?”

“Good.”

“Mom’s being nice to you and your sister?”

“Dad,” Jason sighed. “She’s always nice to us.”

They came to the house and Vic stopped at the end of the driveway, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’m not supposed to go in when your mom’s not there.”

“I know,” Jason said.

“You going to be all right by yourself until she gets home?”

“Yeah, I’ll just do my homework and grab a snack.”

“Okay.” Vic cleared his throat and said, “I lied. Something happened today that made me want to come see you.”

“Was it bad?”

“Not too bad,” Vic said. “That’s the hardest part about not being at home. Seeing you guys every day gives me something to hold onto. Without you, I think I’d run screaming into a loony bin.”

“Like Ulysses,” Jason said.

“Who?”

“We read about him in school. He was the captain of a ship in Greece that was passing by the island of the Sirens. Their song made sailors go insane and jump into the water to their death, so Ulysses made all of his men stuff their ears with wax. The he had them tie him to the mast and ordered them to ignore him no matter what happened.”

“So did he get to hear their song?”

Jason nodded and said, “It drove him insane, but he was tied up too tightly to hurt himself.”

Vic looked at his son and said, “You’re one of those nerdy kids I used to beat up in the lunch room, aren’t you?”

Jason laughed, “Lucky for me you got fat!”

Detective Ajax raised his hand to shield his eyes from Frank’s approaching headlights. He was dressed in all black with gloves and a hat. He looked like a chubby cat burglar. Vic put down his hand as Frank pulled up; staring in amazement at the marked police vehicle Frank was driving. “Tell me this is a joke, Frank.”

“What?”

“Tell me you did not show up to conduct a clandestine operation in a marked goddamn police car.”

Frank smacked the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, “The hell I didn’t, Vic! I drove this because this is what I was ordered to drive by the goddamn Staff Sergeant. He gave me a direct order not to touch an unmarked car unless I receive his express permission first. Of course, he told me that right after he said I need to keep a uniform handy so I can go direct traffic when the real cops are too busy.”

Vic gritted his teeth and kicked the car’s front tire. “That meddling asshole! He hates that somebody’s out here doing police work. I am so sick of his shit!”

Frank got out of the car, looking around in the darkness. “Calm down.”

“I won’t calm down! I’m out here at three in the morning with a goddamn gimp who can barely walk down the stairs to my office and drives around in a marked police car! I give up. Screw the trash pull. Screw this place. Screw everything. Just go home.”

Frank folded his arms and leaned back against his car, letting Vic pace back and forth while taking deep breaths. “I was thinking that we could leave my car here where no one can see it. I can jump in with you, and we can go play in the trash as much as you want.”

“It’s a two car operation, Frank. We’re going to be taking a lot of trash.”

“Okay,” Frank said. “But on the street we have a saying that goes: Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. Or did you forget that?”

Vic stopped pacing and said, “No, I didn’t forget that. I live that. I freaking wrote that. You study it now because I invented it.”

“I’m pretty sure it was around before you. My dad used to say it.”

Vic walked over to his car and stood at the door, waiting for Frank. “Your dad used to say it because I said it to him first.”

“You were, like, ten years old.”

“I was a ten year old police genius, Frank. I’m actually the reincarnation of six other police geniuses, and I carry the wisdom of all of them in me, like Cop Buddha.”

Frank patted Vic’s belly and said, “Now it all makes sense.”

Vic laughed and started the car. They pulled out of the parking lot and he said, “Listen, I meant ‘gimp’ in the nicest possible way.”

“Is that an apology?” Frank said.

“Shut up.”

An hour later, Frank untied a small white kitchen trash bag in the station’s parking garage and recoiled. “Oh my God, I’m gonna puke.”

“If you puke on my evidence, I will kick you in the knee,” Vic said. “Put your gloves on and don’t breathe in when you open the bag.”

“There cannot possibly be anything we need in here. It’s full of… ulk… dirty diapers… I’m gonna yak.”

Vic grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. “Hey, calm down. We’ll take the bag out into the fresh air. Listen, you’re going to smell things a whole lot worse than this if you stay in detectives. Trust me.”

Frank wiped his face on his shirt sleeve and groaned. “What the hell are we doing this for anyway?”

Vic slid his hands into leather gloves, then pulled a pair of latex gloves over the top of them. “I can touch anything in the world if I’m set up like this, okay?” He picked up the trash bag and took it outside, making sure to set it down beneath the overhead light. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and flicked it open with one hand, then slit the bag lengthwise. “Bring another bag over here and hold it open.”

Frank put on his gloves the same way that Vic had and held the bag open, keeping his face as far from the bag as possible. Vic reached into the first trash bag and pulled out a rolled up diaper that was leaking brown fluid onto the asphalt.