whole matter. “I’m proud of you, angry but proud, too. I’m sorry for yelling…” The man lowered his reddish brown hair covered head and shook it. “…It just threw me for a loop is all.”
“Thanks…I know I’ve let you down, Captain. I’m tired of letting people down.” He gathered his thoughts. “I’ve tried to stop drinkin’ several times on my own and I never make it past a couple of days. It’s gonna kill me if I keep on. I’ve had hallucinations lately, can barely sleep; I’m doing crazy things. Had a physical, too… my body is starting to rebel. Strange things going on… things that don’t happen to men in their thirties. I gotta stop before I hurt someone.”
“Or yourself, Nick.” The man pushed his gut into his desk and leaned forward, clasping his hands as he narrowed his eyes upon him. “You keep this shit between you and me, what I’m about to tell ya, you hear?”
“Okay, got it.”
“I’ve always thought highly of you. I can only think of four other officers, your peers, not just in our department, but others, too, that have an officer that matches your intellect, street savviness and ability to handle the job. You’re a damn good cop and you know it. You were born to do this. You’re one of the best I’ve ever had, and that’s just the simple truth. They just don’t make ’em like you anymore.”
“You are painting me out to be something special… I’m not.” He looked down, wrapped in thick layers of shame that threatened to suffocate him. Every time the man spoke, he felt more and more humiliated. He knew it would hurt, bring him a sense of failure, but this took the cake.
“You are somethin’ special, Nick. And because you never realized you were, it drew people to you, but it also caused you to be how you are right now .”
Captain O’Sullivan had his damn number. He was thankful for the call…
“I should have told you this stuff before… I should have complimented you, made you understand how important you are instead of riding you all the damn time.”
“…It’s not your fault.”
“Well, I’m telling you now , and I can only hope it’s not too late. You’re like an old, wise man trapped in a young man’s body, and that’s what I loved about ya, Nick. I think because you are from Brooklyn, like me, it definitely helped but not only that, you understand people from a psychological and sociological level. You’re also slick, a chameleon. That’s how you’ve been gettin’ over. It all makes sense now.” The man bobbed his head up and down as all the pieces came together for him right then and there. “You’re the type of fucker that can be caught red-handed with a bag full of blood covered money and say you found it in a church and it was given to you, free and clear… and people would somehow believe you.”
Nick smirked and had a laugh. That was true, indeed. He tapped his lower lip nervously, itching for a cigarette.
“Normally that sort of slickness isn’t seen as a good thing in this line of work, at least not from an administrative standpoint. It’s seen as a liability, but it works for you, because it makes you understand the mentality of many of the people we deal with on a daily basis. Why? Because you’re one of them. We’re one of them.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “You and I come from where they come from and have been where they are…in here .” He tapped his temple.
“I’ll always love my people, Captain O’Sullivan, because that’s what they are… my people. Every single woman, man and child here in B-ville…”
“Tell me somethin’ though, Nick. I have a question but first let me say that all of these compliments I’m giving you doesn’t stop the fact that right this second I’m so damn pissed off at you!”
His anger rose up once more and slammed the room about, enraged, disappointed; he imagined morose, too.
Nick nodded in understanding, “I know you are. I’ve been lying to you,
“Thanks…I know I’ve let you down, Captain. I’m tired of letting people down.” He gathered his thoughts. “I’ve tried to stop drinkin’ several times on my own and I never make it past a couple of days. It’s gonna kill me if I keep on. I’ve had hallucinations lately, can barely sleep; I’m doing crazy things. Had a physical, too… my body is starting to rebel. Strange things going on… things that don’t happen to men in their thirties. I gotta stop before I hurt someone.”
“Or yourself, Nick.” The man pushed his gut into his desk and leaned forward, clasping his hands as he narrowed his eyes upon him. “You keep this shit between you and me, what I’m about to tell ya, you hear?”
“Okay, got it.”
“I’ve always thought highly of you. I can only think of four other officers, your peers, not just in our department, but others, too, that have an officer that matches your intellect, street savviness and ability to handle the job. You’re a damn good cop and you know it. You were born to do this. You’re one of the best I’ve ever had, and that’s just the simple truth. They just don’t make ’em like you anymore.”
“You are painting me out to be something special… I’m not.” He looked down, wrapped in thick layers of shame that threatened to suffocate him. Every time the man spoke, he felt more and more humiliated. He knew it would hurt, bring him a sense of failure, but this took the cake.
“You are somethin’ special, Nick. And because you never realized you were, it drew people to you, but it also caused you to be how you are right now .”
Captain O’Sullivan had his damn number. He was thankful for the call…
“I should have told you this stuff before… I should have complimented you, made you understand how important you are instead of riding you all the damn time.”
“…It’s not your fault.”
“Well, I’m telling you now , and I can only hope it’s not too late. You’re like an old, wise man trapped in a young man’s body, and that’s what I loved about ya, Nick. I think because you are from Brooklyn, like me, it definitely helped but not only that, you understand people from a psychological and sociological level. You’re also slick, a chameleon. That’s how you’ve been gettin’ over. It all makes sense now.” The man bobbed his head up and down as all the pieces came together for him right then and there. “You’re the type of fucker that can be caught red-handed with a bag full of blood covered money and say you found it in a church and it was given to you, free and clear… and people would somehow believe you.”
Nick smirked and had a laugh. That was true, indeed. He tapped his lower lip nervously, itching for a cigarette.
“Normally that sort of slickness isn’t seen as a good thing in this line of work, at least not from an administrative standpoint. It’s seen as a liability, but it works for you, because it makes you understand the mentality of many of the people we deal with on a daily basis. Why? Because you’re one of them. We’re one of them.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “You and I come from where they come from and have been where they are…in here .” He tapped his temple.
“I’ll always love my people, Captain O’Sullivan, because that’s what they are… my people. Every single woman, man and child here in B-ville…”
“Tell me somethin’ though, Nick. I have a question but first let me say that all of these compliments I’m giving you doesn’t stop the fact that right this second I’m so damn pissed off at you!”
His anger rose up once more and slammed the room about, enraged, disappointed; he imagined morose, too.
Nick nodded in understanding, “I know you are. I’ve been lying to you,
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