The door opened and a tall athletic looking man in his midsixties walked into the room. He had an air of superiority about him and a purposeful stride. He was dressed casually today which was quite rare on a pair of grey corduroy slacks and a black T shirt u nderneath a dark brown flannel jacket. A black baseball cap completed the look. Even the casual attire couldn’t disguise his athletic build. His physical fitness came from years of indulging in an active lifestyle of exercise and good diet. His time on the force as a field agent spanning decades al so played a pivotal role. The only give away to his age was the grey hair and the crow feet at the corners of his eyes. He was a man to be revered on the force. Chris turned to acknowledge the presence of the chief of police, Barrett Eastham. He watched as h e settled his 6ft3, 200 pounds frame into the only chair in the room forcing Chris to settle back down on the edge of the bed all the while supporting his dislocated left shoulder with his right hand. “How are we feeling today, Chris”? He inquired in his gruff voice. He always had a way of making him feel like a school child reporting to his teacher was. which in a way he He was one of the few Chris and most of his colleagues looked up to on the force. He was as fair as he was strict. “Feeling l ik e I need to be out of here already”. Chris grumbled He had his face buried in a file he had w alked in with but at Chris’s words, he looked up to stare at him. “A little too soon, don’t you think? Perhaps, we ought to slow our roll. You are of no use to anyone in your condition”. His fixed gaze rested on his healing shoulder thus driving his point home. Chris couldn’t help but grudgingly
acquiesce to the fact that he wasn’t in his best frame yet but even that did not help his fretting to leave. He hated hospitals even as a child_ had despised them even most especially after watching his mother fight desperately for her life in a hospital while the doctors stood around and did nothing to save her. Chris massaged his sore shoulders absently as he watched the chief of police engrossed in the file at hand, a frown creasing his forehead. He looked up briefly and made eye contact with him. He could sense there were a lot of unanswered questions on Chris’s mind. He hadn’t been aware that the chief had been studying him as well. “Those questions aren’t going to answer itself. Out with it son. What’s on your mind”? He closed the file on his lap and fixed Chris with one of his signature direct stare that had served as a disciplinary measure to him and his colleagues in the absence of semantics. He forced himself not to squirm under such intense scrutiny. “It’s about Anna…” He hesitated. “No one’s told me anything about her_ if she’s alright or…” He trailed off. The Chief merely heaved a sigh and didn’t waver in his intense scrutiny. The silence that ensued was overwhelming in its intensity and only made him more agitated and worried. He moved slightly closer on the edge of the bed and this time, held the Chief’s penetrating stare and it was the older man who looked away first. “Is there something you are not telling me, Sir”? The chief scrunched up his facial features momentarily as if considering the best way to deliver what obviously his gut was telling him wasn’t very good news. “How long do you think you’ve been out and concussed, Christopher”? He inquired. Christopher_ this was definitely not good news. The chief only addressed him by his full name in the throes of a reprimand or the onset of grave news and in this case, he feared it was the latter. “No idea Sir…” He replied all the while wondering what that had to do with anything. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “Let me help you out. You’ve been out for roughly four weeks. It was touch and go for a while until the doctors insisted you’d be placed in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in your brain come down and your brain to heal”. He paused for emphasis letting it all sink in as he watched the cascade of emotions flirting across the younger man’s handsome features. He was one of his best men on the force and it would have been a huge loss if they had lost him. Four weeks, he thought to himself. He had no idea he had been out that long but it still didn’t answer his questions about Anna or her health status. The chief has never been one to beat about the bush and was as direct as they come. He had often said there was no way to deliver a bad news that wouldn’t still make it bad so be direct and be done with it which was why he didn’t understand his recent stalling tactics except it wasn’t as bad as he feared. “I still don’t understand what it has to do with Anna and her state of health”. “There’s no better way to say this but sadly, Anna didn’t make it. She’s dead son”. That was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness of any coherent thought. The chief had continued speaking but he had been far gone listening to the sound of his own storm brewing to have grasped a thing said after the single word ‘dead’ had been pronounced by the chief.