A Higher Perspective

Can two officers talk a man off a ledge?

The man looked from left to right. It's like a devil on one shoulder, an angel on the other, he thought. But he couldn't tell which was which.

Officer Shinty looked down, uncomfortable out on the ledge with this man. "Look, buddy, let's talk. Whatever's wrong, this is not a solution."

"Don't! Don't come any closer! I'll jump, man, I'm serious!" The desperation in his voice was clear. "They said they're gonna take my kids! I can't live without my kids!" The man's eyes were wide with terror.

Officer McDougherty, on the other side of the man, spoke calmly to him. "Whoever said that, don't listen to them, my man. We'll work this out, and we're gonna do it your way. We're gonna work this out, then climb back in the window once we're done. Okay?"

The man looked from left to right again. Shinty had inched closer; the man shuddered. "Stay away, man!"

McDougherty shook his head slightly at Shinty, and the other officer backed off. "Look at me, buddy. I know you're a person, not a case file. You're like me: you got family, kids. I'm Alfred; tell me your name, man."

"George," the man whined. "Gullible ol' George who followed the judge's rules and they still want to take—"

"Okay, George. I can tell how much you need your kids. But they need you, too, right?"

The man's face twisted in such a lost, pitiful grimace that it tugged at McDougherty's heart.

Shinty, who had been inching forward again, made his move while George's attention was on McDougherty. But he was slow out here on the ledge twenty-three stories above Manhattan: George turned, saw him, and slumped down in his suit coat.

"I told you to stay back, man," he said quietly, leaning forward, forward, forward...

(Word Count: 300)