Joe ~ The Merciful

The off duty cop returned from his union mandated smoke break and sat at the computer terminal. He unleashed a bored sigh and fought weary eyes as a litany of CCTV shots danced across the video wall, displaying every nook and cranny around Stephen's & Lloyd's Investment Firm. His shift partner entered the monitoring station with the usual annoyance all rookies possessed. "All clear, Joe."

Joe sighed again. Boy's barely old enough to shave and thinks this is real police work. Joe closed his eyes and imagined the ebony 2010 Toyota Avalon Limited Edition with velvet leather seats and custom, twenty-two inch alloy rims he planned to purchase with all his moonlighting money. He sent a silent thank you to Jesus and Mary for the recent scandal that lowered the price of his dream car. The thought pleased the weary security guard as he faced his partner. "Good job, Andy."

Andy flashed a dimpled smile that made his freckled face seem all the more hideous. "Thanks. Does this mean you'll put in a good word for me when I take the entrance exam next week?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, kid." Joe returned to the video monitors dominating the far wall. "This ain't real police work." He closed his eyes.

Andy gasped and rushed beside Joe, shaking his chair. "Is that- coyotes?" He pointed to a video image on the bottom left of the video wall.

Joe prayed for patience and reached for the glasses in his breast pocket. "We're miles from the border, kid. Nobody's smuggling illegal-" The image dumbfounded Joe. As sure as milk was white, a guide leading a half dozen people skulked along the dark streets in front of the building. "I don't believe it."

Andy stood on the tips of his toes, his gangly frame shivering with excitement. "We gotta catch 'em." The boy shook Joe's swivel chair. "We- is that Floyd?"

Joe leaned forward. In his peripheral, Andy manipulated a joystick that zoomed in on the figure. Joe shook his head. "Sonofabitch." All doubt fled as the monochrome image of Andy's brother dominated the view shed. Joe put his head in hands as the dilemma twisted his guts. I should call this in. But- He glanced at Andy and uttered another sigh at the youngster's crestfallen demeanor. The boy's brother will go to jail. He'll never be a cop with that rep.

Andy's freckled visage hardened. "Look, their headed for the St. Mary's. If they make it to the sanctuary it'll be too late."

"Don't be stupid, boy. We're security guards, not border patrol agents."

Andy shook his head. "You're not. You're a real cop. Remember the new law. If they find out you didn't try to catch the illegals, they'll sue you."

Joe concealed his face in his hands. Damn you, Governor Brewer! It's time I retired and moved out of Arizona. Joe rationalized that the kid was right. He stood and gathered his weapons, an old baton and flashlight, and walked out the side exit with an eager wannabe cop on his heels like an obedient hound.

He pulled the tall youth down and whispered, "Stand in front of the church. Act like you're patrolling the grounds." Joe shook his head as the hound rushed to obey. He trekked toward the back of the church, the makings of a plan forming in his mind.

Joe turned on his flashlight and pointed it toward the ground as he stalked behind the property, careful not to crush any fallen leaves, listening for encroaching footsteps as an autumn breeze chilled the sweat on his brow.

Spanish words, whispered, frantic, caught his attention. He approached the sounds, just beyond the corner of the church. His hunch proved right. Andy's position put a monkey wrench in their plans. Joe peeked around the corner and beheld seven silhouettes huddled together in the midst of a panicked meeting. He suppressed a sigh at the gangly, awkward form nearest him. No mistake, that's the kid's brother.

He approached the group, abandoning all semblance of stealth. Conversation ceased as Joe neared Floyd's back. The illegals abandoned one another as they fled in multiple directions. The security guard turned off his flashlight and put his hand on Floyd's scrawny shoulder. "What are you doing here, son?"

Floyd leaped in the air to flee, but Joe's hard grip forced him to his knees. Floyd's eyes widened, resembling a frightened hare. "Please officer I-"

Joe pulled the boy to his feet and looked up into those big eyes. "Pull yourself together, kid." He paused, giving Floyd time to regain composure. "What do you think you're doing?" He slapped the youth without waiting for an answer. "You trying to ruin your brother's life?" He unleashed another slap, harder than the last. "I should haul your ass to the station myself." Confusion filled Floyd's face and Joe used the impasse to light another Marlboro. "But this job I'm on is a union job, and I'm on my mandated smoke break." Floyd gave a slow nod. Joe, a master of intimidation grabbed the young man by his t-shirt collar. "If I catch you breaking the law, I don't care if it's jaywalking-" He left the rest unsaid, allowing the imagination to create punishments far worse than any he could carry out. Floyd nodded once more, reminding Joe of a giraffe as he released the grip on his shirt. The youth fled into the night.

Joe finished his cigarette before walking to the front of the cathedral. Andy paced to and fro like some fool from a bad police movie. Joe shook his head. "Come on kid, they got away."

"My brother?"

"I got a good look at him. Didn't look like Floyd."

"But I saw-"

Joe stared at the boy in silence. "I said it wasn't him, partner." He walked back to the investment firm, his obedient hound close by. He pondered about a letter that needed writing before the academy started up again.

This short story's inspiration comes from "The Writer's Cramp" 

Date: Wednesday, March 12, 2010

Prompt: Write a story or poem that includes the following line, bolded, anywhere in your item except the first line or the title. The security guard turned off his flashlight and put his hand on Floyd's scrawny shoulder.

Word Count:998

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