Raindogblue

With a Rebel Yell........

 

In the locker room, I’m listening to Rebel Yell as I  dress for traffic court. A pup, so new I don’t know his name, walk up and says, “What’s the name of this song?”

I smile and say, You're kidding, right?

He says, “No, I have never heard this song before and I like it.”

It’s ‘Rebel Yell by Billy Idol. It’s from the 80’s.

He says, “Well, I was born in 98. “

I nod, I’ve worked here longer than you've been alive.

“When did you get hired?”

‘96.

 

 

Pooling

 

Mike is screaming,pressed against a fence, holding on, as if he holding on to his life.

He says he's shot in the leg. He won't sit down, so we start looking for wounds, but he's writhing too much.

We need to lay him down, but the sidewalk is studded with uncapped rigs. Kicking the detritus and debris away from a center spot,  we, then, lift him up and set him down and his side.

His knee's scraped raw. There's an inch long laceration to his left thigh, but no bullet wound. We check his legs, ankles to upper thighs: nothing.

The pups think he's 1234 or high, but I've been around too many shootings. Using my seat belt cutter, I slice off his shorts and underwear.

We lift and rotate hims slowly, once, twice and again, until I can see the blood pooling in his boxers. He's an entry wound left of the spine and under his kidney.  

 

 

Hot

 

109 on Saturday.

112, Yesterday.

117, forecast for today.

 

 

 

Jelly

 

 

 

 

31

One of the two injured in last night’s shooting died today.

 

 

Fungi

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just the Tip

 

 

Yesterday, doing yard work, Beach Boy cut the tip of his finger. 

I told him to stay home for at least two days. 

Today, he’s  in the locker room dressed and ready. 

 

What are you doing here?

I wanted to give it a try. 

You’re a dumb ass. Go home. 

He laughs me off. 

 

I see Potter.  Hey Potter, if you cut off the tip of your finger yesterday, would you can to work?

He says, “Uhh, no. I would stay home.”

 

I turn to Gator. 

Gator, what about you? If you cut the tip of your finger off yesterday, would you come to work?

He says, “No, I wouldn’t. “

 

The sergeant rounds the corner and gives me a look that says, ‘What are you talking about?’

Beach Boy cut off the tip of his finger yesterday and he showed up to work. He has a big band-aid on his finger. 

 

The sergeant turns around, chats with Beach Boy,  and persuades him to go home. 

 

 

 

4th

 

 

 

 

Stoma

 

 

Mope's tossed a fire hydrant cap through the plate glass window off Beggar's. He's left his ID on scene and the residents of the building shared a pic they'd snapped. Hanz and I find him a few blocks away. When I tell him he's under arrest, Mike says, "For breaking a window?"

As I search him, his pockets have all been cut. There's nothing on him, so I say is there anything else I should know? 

He says, "Yeah, I have stomach injury."

What is it?

"I don't know."

I lift his shirt and look. He has a stoma larger than my fist. He should be wearing a colostomy bag. Instead, he has a hole in his abdomen and rings of fecal matter circling it.

Do you need medical?

"No."

Do you want and ambulance.

"No."

 I transport him to jail and point out his condition to staff. The jail nurses refuse him, so I send him to the hospital via ambulance with a citation for felony criminal mischief and second for two outstanding warrants. 

 

 

 

Mike

 

Mike is coated in feces, crusted and wet.

He's naked, hair dredded.

Mike hears voices, quarreling with a plant.

He thinks it's 1980. 

He doesn't beef the POH, but I doubt the hospital

will keep him for more than a few hours.