Mary Sullivan - No Ordinary Sheriff

“Where’d you get it?” Cash asked, angry that he couldn’t protect Austin better.

Austin, caged between Cash’s arms, looked up at him with all the defiance such a skinny boy could muster. He shook his head, the mulish jut of his jaw evidence that he wasn’t about to give Cash an answer.

Cash worked hard to keep himself from shaking the answer out of the boy.

With the unpredictability and speed of youth, Austin slipped under Cash’s arm to run. Cash snagged the tail of his filthy jacket and pulled him back. He heard Austin’s breath whoosh out of him. He didn’t want to hurt the kid, but needed Austin to understand how serious this was. Austin was headed down a road that would one day lead to a jail cell.

Cash leaned close and lowered his voice. “I know all the moves a kid like you can make.” His fear for the boy made his tone hard, unsympathetic.

He saw Austin’s dilated pupils, the dark bags under his eyes, and the sunken cheeks of his thin face. For a while under Cash’s care, Austin had begun to look good, but man, this was regression.

Austin had classic golden boy good looks and the smile of an angel the rare time one could be coaxed out of him.

“Where’d you get the marijuana?” Cash asked again, his tone more demanding.

A flash of fear lurked beneath Austin’s defiance. “I—I found it.”

“C’mon, Austin, you’ve never lied to me before. The truth this time.”

“Screw you, man.” Austin looked like he wanted to either fight or cry. Why was adolescence so hard for some kids? “Why don’t you leave me alone?”

Because the haunted look in your eyes tells me you want to be rescued.

Cash placed his hand on Austin’s shoulder, but Austin shrugged it off. The boy squeezed his lips shut and shook his head. Cash knew he’d gotten as much out of him as he was going to. For stubbornness, Austin was hard to beat. Except maybe by Cash himself.

An image of Austin’s mother flashed into Cash’s mind—a sweet but helpless woman who reminded Cash of his own mom—and Cash didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell him why he’d chosen this boy to care for.

Cash hadn’t given up on himself. Even during the toughest days, after Dad had lost his job as Commissioner of the San Francisco police force, his house and his car to bankruptcy, and his wife and son to separation followed rapidly by divorce, sixteen-year-old Cash had pulled himself and his mom through.

Later, after he’d studied to become a police officer, he’d left California. He couldn’t work where his father had hammered his sterling career into lead.

Austin deserved a chance at a good life, too. Cash wouldn’t give up on him.

He grasped the front of Austin’s thin ski jacket and shook him gently.

“Austin, get your shit together or you’ll end up a drug addict. Or unable to take care of yourself. Like your mother.”

Austin trembled, probably as much from fear as the cold.

“Is that what you want?” Cash asked, knowing Austin was terrified of exactly that fate.

“You’ve gotta stop pushing your luck.” Cash let go of Austin’s jacket, more frustrated than he could say. Maybe he should give Austin a taste of what jail time felt like, give him a really good scare. Yeah, putting him in jail was a great idea.

Decision made, he ordered, “Follow me.”

Austin’s gaze shot to Cash’s face. What was going on with him these days? Who was Austin hanging out with who were getting him into this kind of trouble?

“Where to?” Austin asked.

“To the Sheriff’s office.”

“Wh-why?”

“I just caught you in possession of marijuana, didn’t I?”

Austin nodded.

“I’m a cop, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you’re my Big Brother.”

“That doesn’t give you a free pass to commit crime. Is that why you wanted me in that role?”

Austin mumbled, “No.”

Cash hadn’t really thought so. At the beginning, they’d had too much fun together. Not lately, though.

Austin should be in school, but at the moment it was more important to teach him this lesson than to drive him there.

Cash herded him out of the alley and onto the sidewalk of Main Street.

Austin tried to wrench his arm free of Cash’s grip.

Cash’s fingers dug into Austin’s bony elbow. With a quiet yelp the boy came along.

On the way to the Sheriff’s office, Cash nodded to the people of Ordinary who passed them by. Austin hung his head and shuffled beside Cash.

Cash’s office sat between the small grocery store and Scotty’s Hardware. Seeing it filled Cash with pride.

In a backhanded way, Frank had inspired him to become a cop, if only to prove that it could be done in a better way.

That a man could be a good and honorable cop and make a difference to the people around him. That a man didn’t have to drive his way through every obstacle with the force of a Mack truck to get to the top. That a man didn’t have to want to get to the top. That a man could be happy in his job, just the way it was, just where it was.

Cash opened the office door and stepped inside, taking Austin with him. He nudged him into a chair in front of the desk.

Wade Hanlon came out of the washroom.

“Anything interesting happen last night?” Cash asked.

“Not a thing.”

Cash turned to Austin. “Stay put there for a minute. I need to talk to the deputy.”

Austin put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

Cash gestured Wade toward the back of the room and asked quietly, “Did someone call from Billings asking about methamphetamines in Ordinary?”

“Yeah, that afternoon I took over while you went to the dentist. I told them we didn’t have that problem here.”

“Apparently, we do.”

“We do?” Wade looked surprised but also a tad sheepish. He probably didn’t like disappointing his new boss. “How do you know?”

“There’s a man in hospital in Billings who overdosed on meth he says he picked up here.”

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Yeah, I do. I know the guy. He’s a friend’s brother.”

Wade looked even more embarrassed. “Sorry, Sheriff. I had no idea.”

“In the future, let me know about those kinds of calls. I need to know everything that goes on around here. Everything. Got it?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open around town. That meth is here somewhere.”

“Okay, boss.”

Wade stepped to the desk and opened a Styrofoam container from the diner. It held a couple of cinnamon buns. “Those’re for you. There’s fresh coffee. See you tonight. Seven, right?”

Cash and Wade worked opposite shifts.

Cash took Austin to the movies on Friday nights, so Hanlon came in an hour early.

After Wade left, Cash walked around the desk.

He noticed Austin’s gaze flicker to the cinnamon buns. Yeah, he’d have the munchies right now, from the marijuana. Looking at Austin’s thin face, he amended that.

“When was the last time your mom bought groceries?”

Austin shrugged and remained close-lipped. Cash had to admire his loyalty to his mom. In his own way, the kid had a lot of class. Connie Trumball wasn’t doing much of a job mothering her boy, but Cash had yet to hear Austin badmouth her.

Connie wasn’t a great mother, but she was Austin’s.

Cash took a can of ginger ale from a small refrigerator and handed it to him.

Austin looked up, surprised.

Sometimes Austin was so closed off he seemed encased in concrete. At other times, like right now, the boy had cellophane for skin. Cash got such a clear glimpse of Austin and his quiet suffering, of his settling for less in life that Cash wanted to hold him and whisper, wish for more, dream for more. Don’t settle. You deserve it.