Novel Treatments / MOURNING REIGN-CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 3
FROM THE ASHES
The transition from career cop to civilian was not going smoothly for Alex Mendez. Slowly, reluctantly, he’d accepted the fate to which his life had been resigned, but acceptance was not so much a choice as it was merely a decision not to complain that he’d been robbed of his right to choose his own destiny.
Some say when God closes one door, He opens another. While Alex still felt as though he was looking for that open door he’d accepted, with a smile, the window of opportunity afforded him to spend time with Christina. She was five now, growing up before his very eyes. She was mere weeks away from Kindergarten, having spent the last several months – including the summer – in Pre-K; A decision based more on the desire that she share peer companionship than on her need for educational stimulation. Christina had been reading since age three. She could sort of write her name. Alex swore he could almost read her last attempt, even if the S and N were backwards. Wishful thinking, maybe. But in the past several months, the bittersweet duality of parenthood had struck Alex hard. On the one hand, he couldn’t wait for all the firsts. The first day of school, real school. Her first homework. The first time the school nurse called to say she was sick. The first time she would fall off the swing and hurt her knee. The first library book she brought home. The first school play. Her first class trip, first party. For that matter, the first time he would drop her off for a full schedule of 8 to 3, instead of the half-days endured at the pre-k level. All the firsts she would go through outside the watchful eyes of Lisa and Alex. His little girl was becoming a big girl and that one simple fact only added to the stress of a boring police-less existence.
On the other hand, Alex couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the little baby who once bore the name Christina Mendez. At least, he rationalized, he had each morning from 7 to 11 to gaze longingly at her, amid all the game playing and cartoon watching, to try and figure out where the last five years went.
Alex thought of Lisa and their unborn child. He was sure it was going to be a boy. They’d agreed to hold off on knowing for sure. To let the gender of the new Mendez be a surprise, but Alex was certain. Alex needed a son. And besides, Christina had already declared that she had named him so it had to be a boy. Of course, they were not going to really name the younger Mendez boy George, even if it did mean naming him after a former president – or as Christina put it, “the guy on Daddy’s paper money.”
They hadn’t discussed it, but Alex liked the idea of naming the new Mendez male Alex Jr. Or perhaps naming him Theodore, after his own elder Mendez brother. But, Alex knew, there was going to be no arguing with Lisa if she had given any decision to whatever name she would like for a son. The one thing Alex was reasonably sure of was that both he and Lisa liked the idea of carrying on family names. Maybe a nice combination of his family and hers. Theodore Alex Andrew Mendez. A little pretentious, perhaps, but distinguished to be sure. And it allowed for naming the baby after Lisa’s father while still keeping a strong Mendez line going. And with a name like that, Alex, joked, he’d have to be strong if he were going to avoid getting pounded on by the other children on the school playground someday.
Switching on the TV, Alex sat back on the couch, closed his eyes and thought of Lisa. How lucky she was to still be on the streets fighting crime. Putting bad guys away. Yes, he worried about her, but that was a spouse’s duty, regardless of their profession. You worried because you loved. And Alex loved Lisa like no other. He was envious of her. Glad that she was able to still fight crime, even if her current physical condition had temporarily resigned her to desk duty. But still, he wished for just one chance to be alongside her taking down bad guys. “Just like the old days,” he chuckled to himself, before being slammed back to reality by the urgent voice of channel eight’s news reporter, Janice Larson. Behind her, fire raged and suddenly the words Alex did not want to believe flashed across the screen. Janice Larson confirmed that, indeed, she was standing in front of the burning remnants of the Longview Police Department “…where just moments ago, at least one armed gunman shot his way into the building, injuring several officers and civilians before blowing himself up…”
Alex’s eyes grew huge with fear. His heart jumped into his throat. His stomach prickled and he wretched once before gaining enough composure to grab the phone beside him.
Surely she was okay. She’d gotten out, right? Half listening, half catching a story of possible terrorism, bombs and gunfire, Alex fumbled to dial Lisa’s cell phone.
Janice Larson read preliminary figures that upwards of 100 may be dead; including what was believed to be a lone assassin. Scores were injured.
A hundred dead? There weren’t a hundred cops in the whole town of Longview, were there?
Oh God! Lisa!
After the fourth ring, Lisa’s voicemail picked up. Alex knew Lisa had the habit of letting the phone go to voicemail unless a person called back a second time, but surely she would want him to know she was okay. Frustrated he hung up.
Directing his attention to the television, Alex watched for any sign of Lisa.
He saw Sgt. Tom Breckenridge being interviewed by Janice Larson.
“Come on, Tom!” he shouted at the TV. “How’s Lisa doing? Where’s Lisa?”
Behind them, several cops and rescue workers bandaged the injured, which included several civilians. Firefighters could be seen still frantically trying to gain control of the blaze. A postal employee’s truck was parked just at the edge of the camera’s view. The postal worker herself was bent down on the ground just behind her truck. She appeared to be administering CPR to someone. Alex couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, much less who it was. He found himself torn between the idea of pulling for the victim, in the event it was Lisa or simply hoping that it was not Lisa lying motionless, possibly burned, on the ground. Would it be worse if she was missing or if she…
He dared not finish his thought.
“I don’t know how many we have injured or dead,” Tom told Janice Larson. “We don’t have any reports right now. We have a lot of chaos. A lot to sort out.”
“Who’s in charge right now, Detective?”
“If you want me to be honest,” Tom Breckenridge said, nervously, “God’s in charge, young lady. Beyond that, we’re still working to restore order.”
“Where’s the Chief?” The reporter asked. “My sources tell me that Chief Bouknight was in the building when it went up. Can you confirm the Chief’s whereabouts at this time?”
“I’m sorry,” Tom said, still looking nervous. Behind him two EMT’s pushing a gurney ran past, nearly knocking him over. Regaining his balance, Tom cleared his throat. Intense shouting could be heard behind them. “I—Ma’am I’m sorry I don’t have any information for you at this time. I need to help my fellow officers. Please keep at a safe distance. Officer, escort Ms. Larson back a safe distance, please.” He motioned to a young uniformed officer who looked about as frightened and confused as would a kindergartener on his first day of school.
Just then, Alex’s phone rang.
“Hello?” God, please let it be Lisa.
“Alex?” It was Danny. Suddenly, Alex’s stomach burned with nervousness.
“Where is she?” Alex asked, nervous tears welling up in his eyes? “Danny, where’s Lisa?”
“We’re at the hospital Alex. I think you better get down here.”
“Danny?” Alex whispered, weakly. “Is my wife okay? Janice Larson said…”
“She’s alive, Alex,” Danny said, causing a wave of tempered relief to wash over him. Alex knew there was a “but” coming. “Alex, you really need to hurry.”
On the television, Alex watched as uniformed officers desperately tried to maintain order against a crowd of family and friends, worried loved ones, uncertain as to the fate of untold numbers.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Alex said, his voice shaking from the fearful tears he was crying. His mind wouldn’t stop watching the television. Despite the urgency eating at him, he remained focused for a few seconds on the scene unfolding at the Longview Police Department. The police officer in Alex screamed at the citizenry to get back. To maintain order. To let the uniforms do their job. But the husband in Alex screamed even louder. “Tell them something! Do something! Tell me something! Where’s my family?”
The Hospital.
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Some say when God closes one door, He opens another. .... Actually, it’s an old saying – When god closes a door, he opens a window. – Probably not important, just letting you know incase you might feel it’s important.
all the firsts. ... Just my opinion, but I would cut a lot of the ‘firsts’ and incorporate them into one sentence to avoid repetition. – ... The first day of regular school, first homework, her first scraped knee, library book, play – for that matter . . .
I don’t understand why you spend so much time on name contemplation. Is it really important to the story? If not, it’s just clutter.
Frustrated he hung up.
Directing his attention to the television, ..... This is a very tense moment. The reader is glued to the book to see what happens. They’re feeling the worry, fear and panic just as he, but to just hang up and turn to the tv – I know he’s searching for information of his wife, but don’t let him stop trying to call her. - ... He hung up and hit redial, turning his attention to the television . . . This will make it even more intense. Will she answer? Will the tv give a clue?
He dared not finish his thought. ... He hit redial again – Let him keep desperately trying to contact her.
This is good. It starts off slow because of all the narration about names and ‘firsts’. The reader will feel the impact of the news without all of that. Readers get bored quickly, and some may stop reading before they get to the action.
The story is great. I was pulled right in when the news flash came on. Good job.
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