through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.
Alan Redpath
Jacob had to get back to work. The flu had kicked his rear, and the drain on him physically and mentally only served to depress him even more. By Thursday afternoon he decided dying couldn’t be any worse than sitting on the toilet and throwing up in a trash can. He forced himself out of bed and drove to see the doctor. A prescription to stop the vomiting and a sleep aid helped, but it didn’t change what he had to face at the station or the problems at home. As he lay in bed and watched the late afternoon shadows creep across his walls, the situations crashing against his brain started his stomach to rumble again. He didn’t feel like talking to his kids, and he dreaded Barbara coming home from work.
Where is Nadine?
The whole discipline process at the station triggered paralyzing anxiety. Jacob refused to admit to fear. That was beneath him. But a veteran of the Border Patrol shouldn’t have to go through such humiliation for a minor infraction. The illegal man he’d punched had been interviewed, and the two agents who witnessed the incident had given their testimony. So Jacob had made a mistake. Write him up, stick it in the file, and let him get back to work. Except his supes viewed the day’s happenings according to the rule book. Before Jacob was dismissed for the day, he’d been given a report that stated the Office of Inspector General, the Border Patrol Internal Affairs, and the Office of Professional Responsibility would receive immediate notice of the incident. The ultimatum at the station came from Chief Patrol Agent Ed Jimenez—mandatory counseling and administrative work until his supes decided his future with the Border Patrol. This was his second offense, according to them. It could be the end of his career and certainly the end to any hope of a supervisor position.
Jacob had been an agent for twenty years, and he’d seen a lot of changes. Some he liked, and some he despised. All the new blood exiting the academy as a result of the former presidential administration’s request for more agents consisted of some kids filling a man’s shoes. The Border Patrol was a paramilitary organization, not a place for little boys to play army. The mentoring program with seasoned agents was a start, but Jacob hadn’t signed up to babysit. To keep the job he was so dissatisfied with meant going through a company counselor who wanted him to discuss his feelings. “Anger management” is what Jimenez called it. Jacob planned to fight it for as long as possible. He needed his spare hours to make extra money that would put Nadine through college, if she ever decided to come home.
The counseling aspect infuriated him the most. His wife needed counseling, not him. It was her fault his family and his job were falling apart. How ironic that his wife who had pledged her love to him nineteen years ago had forgotten her vows. She’d set out to destroy him ever since Toby had been killed, and now it looked like she was succeeding.
Jacob glanced at the time. Barbara would be home soon. Strange how he could once love a woman and now wish she was out of his life. He needed to get back to work—face the repercussions of his actions and get on with his life. But the doctor had given him written orders to stay home until Saturday. One more day stuck at home in bed and he’d need intense anger management.
Chapter 13
I have known sorrow and learned to aid the wretched.
Virgil
By Friday, Danika had serious concerns about Jacob, and Barbara hadn’t called during the week. News about his abusing an illegal spread like a twenty-four-hour virus. He faced disciplinary action, and it wasn’t the first time. Danika would not have been surprised if he’d been dismissed on the spot. She heard the murmurings, but she’d witnessed his slow progression into a bitter man. He’d alienated his old friends and hadn’t attempted to make new ones.
Alan Redpath
Jacob had to get back to work. The flu had kicked his rear, and the drain on him physically and mentally only served to depress him even more. By Thursday afternoon he decided dying couldn’t be any worse than sitting on the toilet and throwing up in a trash can. He forced himself out of bed and drove to see the doctor. A prescription to stop the vomiting and a sleep aid helped, but it didn’t change what he had to face at the station or the problems at home. As he lay in bed and watched the late afternoon shadows creep across his walls, the situations crashing against his brain started his stomach to rumble again. He didn’t feel like talking to his kids, and he dreaded Barbara coming home from work.
Where is Nadine?
The whole discipline process at the station triggered paralyzing anxiety. Jacob refused to admit to fear. That was beneath him. But a veteran of the Border Patrol shouldn’t have to go through such humiliation for a minor infraction. The illegal man he’d punched had been interviewed, and the two agents who witnessed the incident had given their testimony. So Jacob had made a mistake. Write him up, stick it in the file, and let him get back to work. Except his supes viewed the day’s happenings according to the rule book. Before Jacob was dismissed for the day, he’d been given a report that stated the Office of Inspector General, the Border Patrol Internal Affairs, and the Office of Professional Responsibility would receive immediate notice of the incident. The ultimatum at the station came from Chief Patrol Agent Ed Jimenez—mandatory counseling and administrative work until his supes decided his future with the Border Patrol. This was his second offense, according to them. It could be the end of his career and certainly the end to any hope of a supervisor position.
Jacob had been an agent for twenty years, and he’d seen a lot of changes. Some he liked, and some he despised. All the new blood exiting the academy as a result of the former presidential administration’s request for more agents consisted of some kids filling a man’s shoes. The Border Patrol was a paramilitary organization, not a place for little boys to play army. The mentoring program with seasoned agents was a start, but Jacob hadn’t signed up to babysit. To keep the job he was so dissatisfied with meant going through a company counselor who wanted him to discuss his feelings. “Anger management” is what Jimenez called it. Jacob planned to fight it for as long as possible. He needed his spare hours to make extra money that would put Nadine through college, if she ever decided to come home.
The counseling aspect infuriated him the most. His wife needed counseling, not him. It was her fault his family and his job were falling apart. How ironic that his wife who had pledged her love to him nineteen years ago had forgotten her vows. She’d set out to destroy him ever since Toby had been killed, and now it looked like she was succeeding.
Jacob glanced at the time. Barbara would be home soon. Strange how he could once love a woman and now wish she was out of his life. He needed to get back to work—face the repercussions of his actions and get on with his life. But the doctor had given him written orders to stay home until Saturday. One more day stuck at home in bed and he’d need intense anger management.
Chapter 13
I have known sorrow and learned to aid the wretched.
Virgil
By Friday, Danika had serious concerns about Jacob, and Barbara hadn’t called during the week. News about his abusing an illegal spread like a twenty-four-hour virus. He faced disciplinary action, and it wasn’t the first time. Danika would not have been surprised if he’d been dismissed on the spot. She heard the murmurings, but she’d witnessed his slow progression into a bitter man. He’d alienated his old friends and hadn’t attempted to make new ones.
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