A Pushed Path

{Friday, October 16th, 11:37 PM}

The tinted windows from the police cruiser disallowed Victor to get an idea of the landscape. His heartbeat was palpitating at extreme pace, oblivious of his current circumstance. The tightness of the shackled cuffs behind him marked a scrape on the wrist portion of his hand. Despite knowing how fruitless and futile the effort to escape, Victor attempted anyways. The sudden apprehension for something he had no knowledge of clawed at his conscious. What was he doing alive and well? He was sure he ended his own life with a revolver in the privacy of his own home. Heavy breathing followed his thinking, trying to comprehend the situation he was in. Looking out the window, he could plainly see the site of a couple of officers talking, with one coming around the back of the cruiser. His attention peered to the front of the car. The officer dropped his head into the cruiser, looking to the passenger seat, grabbing what looked to be a checklist. The door remained open, as the man looked out dabbling notes and signatures for a report. He threw the board back into the passenger seat and got into the driver’s seat to finally take off. The man had a bald cut, quite tall, and strongly built. He turned on his radio to alert he was taking one to the station for questioning. The cruiser took off from the scene and Victor rushed to the window with one last chance to grasp the reality he was in.

He thought to himself in a rushed state, “I can’t- understand all of this. I was dead…I think. So why- How? This all doesn’t make sense.”

The heavy breathing continued. Jumbled thoughts trampled the mind. Sweat poured down the face. A Gas-filled nauseous stomach made the car ride uncomfortable. Vision was letting up. The penultimate dread was in full effect. He placed his forehead on the brim of the window and interior, and closed his eyes, trying to calm his oven like composure. And as quick as the odd temperance signed on, a possession of positive thinking overtook him as the sight of the earth and a cool breeze flushed out his senses.

“A dream? So peaceful. It was the earth. Nothing like an illustration or a 3D model, it was the real thing, but how do I know this?”, he thought.

The placeholder pulse of the earth filled the mind of the young man with serenity to make him slightly forget where he was going. The officer driving could see the complexion change from his passenger, as he hinted a small smile.

“Dispatch, this is Olvidera, 7453, comin up on Dean Street, entering in about ETA 2 minutes, no assist needed in check in. Roger that and confirmed, thanks.”

The cruiser stopped in its designated spot with the officer exiting the officer, coming around to Victor’s side. The door eased out with a click, with the officer's hand extending out.

“C’mon buddy, let’s head in.”

Victor’s expectation of the office was to be rugged with tact, but more understanding and gentle. The two walked in unison to the entrance of the booking department.

“You’re looking much better than when you got in the vehicle, you settling down, now?”

“Uh yeah, still a little jittery, but I’m doing better now, thanks.”

The officer pulled Victor to the empty building’s front desk with a receptionist answering the query.

“Heather..

The same receptionist from the early part of the day looked exhausted, her eyes looking like melted chocolates.

She sighed, moving her forehead down, “This is my last registration for the day, I swear. I need a vacation at this rate.

“Appreciate it Heather.”

Tanked, she replied at Victor, “So what was it this time, burglary, assault, arson?

“A murder down in central part of town, 2 in that area today, scary, right?” answered the officer.

“Jesus Christ, what is our world coming to, are we going ahead with the charges than for the attempt, man 1 – what?

“No, we’ll be going in for questioning only.”

A small victory of relief filled the air for Victor, for it wasn’t a surefire ticket to the cells. However, it doesn’t clear the air for how he is back in the real world, and what transpired during the missing time. At any rate, it was safe to say the evidence wasn’t conclusive enough to warrant an immediate charge.

“Alright, well we got ring 4 ready for questioning.”

Heather pressed a buzzer from under her desk. Above her, a monitor screen illuminated with 8 numbers, 1-8. It brought the number 4 to center showing a graphic of a circle filled.

“Thanks, appreciate it Heather. As soon as Goody gets down here, you can head on out.”

“Hallelujah, my feet are aching, and my cats need feeding.”

An officer was seen walking down the hall towards their direction. He was of medium height, about 6 feet tall, and on the lightweight side. He had blue eyes and dirty blonde hair under his cap.

The new officer directed his attention to the officer besides Victor.

“Deputy Olvidera, how’s it going sir”, as he gave the biggest smile and handshake to his contemporary.

“Tired and old kid, how’re things going around here.”

“Not bad, not bad considering. Getting the hang of the routine, but uh yeah – we got a guest here, huh.”

“Yes, his name is Victor. Found at the scene of a shooting spree, and we think at another scene earlier today.”

“Yeah, no kidding, jeez, talk about a shitty day of bad timing. You like getting in trouble a lot?

Victor allowed the condescending joke making of the officer, thinking the officer to be a dunce.

“Ohohoho, he’s already not a big talker, ok I get that, yeah, no problem, alright yeah, um – why don’t we…go back and get this questioning over with.

“Thanks Goody, have a good one.”

Officer Goody walked Victor to the back of the office with a strut that didn’t match what an officer should practice. He had a professional stance though, with his shoulders pouted out, and his walking stance pointed awkwardly but commandeering.

He muttered more small talk, “You don’t seem like a bad kid, Victor. I can already promise you-you're going to be fine. We just need information that’s all.

Confidence returned within the mind of Victor, but his head pushed down in doubt about the transition.

“That so, that’s reassuring.”

“You don’t look reassured, that look on your face says otherwise. Hiding something?”

“Not sure. Not sure what I know, but I’ll remember as much as I can.”

Officer Goody’s face looked up in a color of stupidity, not understanding what the kid means.

The two entered ring 4. Immediately when Victor entered the room, he saw in the corner, the camera that would be documenting every word he said. Under the law, he does not have to say anything. He can request a lawyer if he so wishes, wait then. But having given up hope on life earlier on, how much regard does Victor have for his life now?

“Turn around bud, I’ll take off the cuffs for ya.”

The boy turned around looking up at the camera, while Goody unlocked the locks around his hands. The feeling of having free hands yielded a small gain of freedom. Victor still had to be careful. The “good guy” routine is possible to lure him into a trap to reveal anything that might incriminate him for anything that has happened in the past day. He took a seat at the table and folded his hands, looking around the small enclosed room.

“Victor, what do you want the thermostat at? It’s at 67 now, that good?”

Taken aback the continuing good nature of the man, and routine being played on, Victor responded, “Uh yeah, that’s fine by me. Keep it as it is.”

Officer Goody gave him the thumbs up, as he closed the door behind him, leaving the two alone with feeds and cameras around them.

He pulled up his chair, as Victor tensely looked up waiting for him to sit and prepare.

Victor thought to himself, “Got to relax as much as possible. I don’t have to say anything under the Fifth Amendment. I still don’t know how much of what he’s said about my involvement is true, so it’s best to keep my mouth shut privy to anything relating to his investigation.”

“Victor, tell me about yourself.”

Victor sat back into his chair and stared at him with vigor, unwilling to comply.

Officer Goody twerked his face in confusion, unable to grasp why the refusal of a simple question.

“Nothing at all? There’s gotta be something interesting you could tell me about.”

Again, the same reaction from Victor; no response and no interest.

“How’s school going? Is it better than when I was going to the high school? I know back when I was a student, I got into trouble all the time. Couldn’t give my teacher’s a break, constantly eyeing the girls too. A little too much, that – well hasn’t changed today either, haha.”

Victor’s tune changed, as now he just wanted to listen to the officer talk.

“It’s been about 6 years now or so, but it feels so recent. What I’d give to go back to the problem-free environment of being a kid again. The only worries homework, and making at least some money to spend with your friends.”

“Ah but I mean, I’m only 24, I’m still a young kid at heart, and it’s not like I’m a fossil either. But you know..”

Officer Goody adjusted his shirt and put his elbow on the table looking Victor square in the eye.

“I realized, only at the end of high school, what I wanted to do with my life. And that was.. To find the easiest path”

Victor finally opened his mouth and had to respond, because the meaning behind his words were lost on him. Victor’s face truly changed to one of utter confusion.

“Huh?”

“Hm? Well yeah, I wasn’t the brightest guy in high school. I realized that. I wasn’t cut out like other guys in my school, who were sent out on scholarships to these Ivy League schools. Certainly didn’t have the money to go live abroad too.”

“This is my home; I’ve lived here my entire life. I thought to myself, if I can’t make myself useful in other fields that my peers studied rigorously throughout their terms, then the least I can do is be honest with myself and fit into a career that blends with me.”

Victor still not understanding replied, “Law enforcement?”

“You got it. This sector – it’s a different world. Police officers, detectives, investigators – we can’t live the same way as the populous does. It’s not your traditional 9-5 job; we’re entrusted with the safety and upholding of the law to the best of our trained abilities.

Officer Goody’s tone changed to something more serious.

“I really need you to work with me here and help me understand the circumstances of this murder that happened this evening. To help protect this town from a horrific incident like that from happening again.”

Victor struggled within himself, clenching his fists on his lap looking down.

“Fine. You want my account of what happened, is that it?”

Goody looked up in earnest.

“The truth is-

“WAIT STOP, answer my first question---y’know about school. Has it changed?

“I don’t like talking about school.”

“Fair point, must be a jungle there. It usually is in some way or form.”

“Today…I went to school, and felt nauseous, my head was ringing. Everybody was talking about me, looking at me, judging me, looking down at me. I suffer from severe anxiety; have panic attacks at random. It’s how I’m wired.

“And are you taking any medication to help?”

“Not really, I storm it out the best I can. They’re not frequent enough to warrant, besides a med teacher said this is the prime time in our lives we experiment with drugs. Didn’t want to take the risk of addiction, y’know.

“I understand what you mean. This town’s filled with opioids around every corner. Tell me what you did after school ended.”

Victor hesitated, as the memory of his afternoon rushed back. The inescapable sight of a body hitting the asphalt, and the blood flowing into the cracks of the sidewalk. Staring into the lifeless eyes of a child of 4 or 5 as if they too were condemning Victor.

Victor experienced a gag reflux, as a bit of stomach acid ran up his throat.

Goody sat up and inquired, “You alright there?” Need some water?”

Victor politely waved, signing a declination of the request.

Goody sat back into his chair to listen on to Victor’s recollection.

“Officer Goody, when I think of law enforcement, all that comes to mind is mediocrity and embarrassment. This isn’t the case everywhere. But why there is so little your men can do in the face of this overwhelming problem our town faces.”

Goody couldn’t respond, as Victor was now driving home serious provoking question.

“Rarely do I ever turn on the news and see a segment of a heroic act, or-or a how a life was saved. Friendly Samaritan stories or some shit like that. No, you turn on the news, and it’s how many lives were snuffed out due to violence, or how a robbery turned violent when pitted against law enforcement. And yet I- I watch it…every time, just hoping there’s some redemption of humanity left. Only to disappoint myself more into this deepening anxiety.”

“So you hate police officers, is that it?”

“I wish you’d try harder.”

The two in the room share a dark pause; a tension enveloped through Officer Goody’s initial provocation.

“The Darkest Days…that’s where we are right now. You’re familiar with that term, yes?”

“The Darkest Days?” asked Victor.

“Far off topic from what I’m supposed to be asking, but the Darkest Days is what our local government refers to as the economic and social downgrade of our town’s previous standing to our current one. Essentially, the town is on the verge of bankruptcy. At least, that’s what should be done anyways. All public services are severely cut in budgets, meaning we all lack the manpower necessary to handle the overabundance of domestic threats. However, that isn’t stopping the board at town hall from frivolously spending where it’s needed. We’ve had a decline for 17 years or so, slowly but surely killing off the economy. You kill off the economy, you get more of those who’d sway to crimes to make their living. It’s a process that feeds on itself.

“Is the murder this afternoon connected to this “Darkest Days” stuff?”

Officer Goody pulled out a drawer that had a folder already inside, and placed it on the table, taking out documents.

“You were at this restaurant near Bard Ave this evening, right? We have testimonial evidence to back it.”

Victor took a picture of the folder, a wide black and white photo that looked like it was taken from atop a traffic light. In the photo, showed Victor with his hands in his pockets with a different sense of composure that is foreign to.

“I’m not – I don’t get it. I have no recollection of ever being at that place.”

“You’re denying you were there, even though we have refutable evidence. Are you sure you’re being truthful about the drug-taking from your earlier statement?”

Victor vehemently raised his voice in utter defiance, “Yes, I- I’m so very confused. I don’t deny that’s me, but honestly, I don’t remember this, like at all.

“What do you remember then?”

“I was….”

Victor took out another photo that showed Brianna, moments before she was killed in the crossfire of the gunfight.

“A girl?”

Officer Goody intervened with factoids about the girl to shed light on the situation. His face looked confused to match Victor’s as he thought it weird to explain a girl he had assumed a connection with when brought in for questioning

“Brianna Wilson, 16, at your high school. She worked as a waitress part time. Eye witness accounts said you had a run in with her, when you came in ordering some food. Made a scene in front of the customers.

Again, Victor shook his head, “No-no that’s impossible. I’ve never talked to her in my life. You can ask anyone at my school, I don’t talk to anyone, let alone a hot girl like that at my school. Can you just – humor me and tell me exactly what happened?”

“5 kids your age got murdered by gunfire. We believe its gang related, but we’re unsure which gang and why.”

“Gangs?” I don’t hang around those types of people.”

“And I’m led to believe you, but there’s some sort of connection here that either you’re hiding or you’re not understanding.”

Victor held his head on the table, trying to rationalize his current predicament. Suddenly, a flash memory arouse in his conscious. He hears a similar voice that he had heard recently. It tells him “Tell the man the truth, I will pass it along to you. I trust you.”

Officer Goody during the pause while Victor held his head, wrote notes in the folder of the transparency of the interview.

“Brianna, she was sexually assaulted, I could tell.”

Officer Goody was taken aback at the statement.

“What do you mean, the biopsy hasn’t come back from the body yet.”

“I uh—not sure how I knew it, but there was an odd pattern in her – uh body, I guess, marks on her wrist that I had seemingly noticed. It just seemed like it matched. She denied it of course. Which would make sense, according to my med teacher, because victims don’t come out with…it.

“And her abuser, was that this guy here?”

Officer Goody laid out a picture of the Austin Boy who had presented an obstacle for the young girl at the back of the restaurant.

“I think so. I was around the corner when I heard his voice and hers struggling, so put two and two together, it’s got to be. Couple in the fact that most abusers know each other and are in a relative environment.

“You’re impressing me with your deductive skills. What else?”

“That’s it. Next thing I know I’m where I am now.”

“Hmmm. So it seems like I initially thought, you were there at the wrong place and time. Although it looked like you intervened on a private matter that got you into this situation.”

“So now, you felt like spitting the truth that mean you were lying before about not knowing this Brianna girl?”

Victor desperately tried to think of a reasoning that didn’t make him look suspicious. He let out a groan and shook his head, and threw his hands in the air.

Goody sighed and face palmed, “ I don’t appreciate you lied to me, considering I’ve been trying to get you to open up to me, and the second you do, you sprinkle some lies in there.

“Sorry!”

“Alright, well you’re not guilty of anything. But as a word of advice next time, don’t stick your business into other’s people’s problems, leave that to us.”

Victor’s face at Goody suggested ingenuity at his remark, “Yeah, and let the same thing happen again, I bet.”

Goody snapped back with a lighthearted gesture, “We are trying, kid. Geez, you need to lighten up, or you’re going to die of negativity. Come on, you can stand now.”

The boy complied and stood up, but then, like a shockwave from a bomb, an intense feeling came over Victor’s body. A flashback of the gun in his hand, afraid to shoot himself in the head, and a small spark of a memory of seeing Planet Earth, followed by a younger version of himself crying on the sidewalk facing his childhood elementary school, and a scene of the local hospital. His heartbeat speeds with a wicked pace. He was not supposed to be alive, and yet here he was. The world allowed him another chance. What is the meaning of that dream he saw? Life flowed through him, when his will determined death was the escape.

Goody opened the door, only to look behind him and see Victor leaning against the door holding his head.

“You sure you’re alright. I think its best we have you checked out at a medic before we let you go back home.”

He struggled with himself, “No please, I’m fine. I just need some rest.”

“Yes, please rest. I will need you soon.”

Goody helped Victor get out of the room and let him lean a shoulder, while he looked at him sternly. “Victor Vitus, there’s something---