In the Nick of Time (21 page)

“There
are
people doing things, Taryn. It takes time, it takes initiative, it takes years of basically undoing a system and rebuilding it, but discussions are happening and plans are being made, some of them already implemented.”

“What plans? I haven’t heard shit.” She sucked her teeth as she gave him the once over.

“Like retraining. It’s happening right now as we speak. But those stories you miss, right? Don’t recall seeing. Have you ever seen a cop on the news lately where the story was positive, huh?!” He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe one or two here and there but when they actually happen, tell me where the damn news crews are!”

“You all should not be commended for doing your damn job!”

“Then don’t fucking condemn us for doing it, either!”

They looked at each other for a moment or two, the tension rising, but so did the healing.

“You haven’t, have you?” he asked in a calmer tone. “You don’t see the good stuff. When we do something good, the news doesn’t share those stories. No way; that doesn’t make for good press, you see?”

She paused, briefly looked away, then nodded in agreement. “Nick, look. People on the whole love wretchedness, messiness, and negativity. For instance, when you see someone tearing another person up, just wait… more are coming to co-sign. It’s like a feeding frenzy. It’s sad but true.”

“Yeah it’s true more times than not, but you see how you wanted to talk to me about Eric? That’s part of the problem.”

She looked at him inquisitively. “I don’t understand…”

“There’s nothing wrong with being curious, but admit it, you thought I was going to defend the officer involved. It was a test. You probably felt this would make a good debate, and you could pick my brain a bit, but there is no debate and there’s nothing to pick, because we agree on this.”

“Hmm, well.” Her lips twisted to the side as she appeared to deliberate over what he’d said. “Honestly, I wasn’t completely certain what you’d say, but yeah, I guess I did think you’d defend the cop involved.”

“See what I mean? That’s like me coming to you and saying, ‘Yo Taryn, this black lady had an attitude with me the other day… can you explain that shit to me? How tha hell are you going to do that? Every damn cop in every borough suddenly becomes a murderer because one son of a bitch made the wrong damn choice.” He put his finger up. “And now there are people mourning Eric’s death.”

“It’s not just one cop though, Nick. It’s a lot, okay?”

“No, percentage wise it’s not, Taryn. There are considerably more police officers doing the right thing and using reasonable judgment than the opposite, but the opposite gets the most attention because it’s extreme. No, that man did not deserve to die. People look at me and scream, ‘I can’t breathe!’ Well neither can I, goddamn it.” He pointed at himself. “Who said I thought that he was right, huh?! I was one of the people calling down to that man’s precinct and saying he can
never
work beside me, under
any
circumstances, and that he should have been serving time!”

He could see the surprise in her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s right. My superiors even pulled me into an office and asked me about it. Many of them didn’t approve of my actions and let it be known. I even signed a petition, me and a few other officers in my precinct, to have him removed. I risked my job to speak out, Taryn! I could have been black balled, pushed out, or they could have found an excuse to fire me. Everybody wants to lump us all together, like it’s just one big brain and we all share it. Now yeah, there’s camaraderie, but I’m not going to sit back and act like I agree with everything, because I don’t.”

“Nick, look, it’s hard to understand it though. The reason being is we are not really seeing cops on television or anything, speaking out against this. What you are describing happened behind closed doors. How would I or anyone else know about this petition? If we—and by ‘we’ I mean your ordinary, everyday citizen—saw
more
of that, it would be harder for us as outsiders, if you will, to see you all the same.”

“I get that, I can respect that. That makes perfect sense. I will tell you this though, there are some people who do not want police and community relations to get better, Taryn and those people are on both sides of the fence.”

They were quiet for a moment or two.

“Can I ask you something else about this?” She picked up her pencil and twirled it around slowly between her fingers.

“Yeah.”

“How would you personally have dealt with that situation?”

“You know, it’s easy for me or anyone else to sit back and play Sunday morning quarterback, but I
will
tell you this.” He pointed at her. “We are trained on how to take someone down, how to calm a situation, how to get even a big ass guy like Eric on the goddamn ground. I can take a man his size down by myself if I had to; now, keeping him down is another story, but there are ways to do it. Terrible things happen, best of intentions go wrong, but if you fuck up, you have to be a man and admit it. You can’t just go on, business as usual, and announce justice was served when you know damn well it wasn’t.”

“Exactly…” she nodded emphatically.

“How can justice be served when we
are
justice?! We are the front liners.” He pointed at himself. “The judges and lawyers and probation officers, bail bondsmen, counselors, and prison guards all stand
behind
us! All of ’em! The cops are the soldiers, we are the troops, and…” He found himself staring at her semi-bald head, and his heart paused, missed a beat.

“And what?”

“And…and just like our addictions that tried to take us the hell out of here…” He reached over and gripped her chin, brought her close and looked deeply into her eyes. “…You fought, Taryn… Imagine fighting another type of addiction, but it’s on the streets, and it’s woven in the politics; and you wake up every day and see it spreading from person to person no matter what you throw at it. But every now and again, someone escapes it, because… because you helped make a difference.”

“You are amazing, you know that?”

“No, I’m just Nick. You’re the amazing one.”

She smiled at him as her cheeks caught a warm, peachy glow.

He looked away, falling into a daydream. “I’m
not
Officer Daniel Pantaleo, Taryn. I’m officer Nicholas Vitale and I l
ove
the people I live around.”

“I can tell… Thanks for having this conversation with me and being open-minded with my questions. I really appreciate it. You’re a good man.”

He nodded, folded inside of himself, feeling a bit sick… sick of himself as darkness came and grabbed him in a cold embrace.

“You can tell? I’m second-guessing that a bit now, Taryn. What is love, right? Love is showing concern. Me being drunk on the job isn’t showing love. That’s showing hatred and harm. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately…it’s even kept me up at night.”

“Nick, don’t do this…” she whispered. “Don’t keep beating yourself up. You’ve acknowledged it, okay?”

“Yeah, but how could I be so out of control? Let it go on so long?!” She ran her hand up and down his back as he leaned forward, caught his breath, closed his eyes for a spell until he calmed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself, Taryn. I just don’t know…”

The thief had been robbed of his peace of mind big time… and he resented that he couldn’t arrest his thoughts, and reverse the hands of time…

“B
ut I thought
we were supposed to be telling our stories, talking about our lives, and then finding ways to cope with these things.” Nick leaned forward and scratched his head. He was jonesing for a cigarette in the worst fucking way, but his efforts to toss that hankering habit were threatened by increased irritability earlier that morning.

“You are.” Frieda nodded.

“Well, I think this is bullshit.” He ran his hand along his eye as he rocked back and forth, trying to settle himself. “Most of the people in here are sharing parts of themselves, and I,” he paused, “am giving all I’ve got, okay? These are private things about my life. Shit, I obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and
still
don’t, but I’m doing it because I’ve got too much lose if I don’t.” He shrugged. Truly, he was motivated by sheer desire, the memory of his deceased mother, and his job being on the line. He had to get this shit right, to make his troubles bow down to him, not the other way around. When he’d walked into the place that first damn day, he meant business and no matter how hard it got, he was determined to make it, to get through. He never expected it to be easy, and on some days, he was filled with regret, but he kept pushing on…

“Nick, we need to address this. You can’t run away from it.”

“I’m not. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I’m not playing games or going through the motions. This is my life! This is serious! I’m a fucking drug addict!” he screamed, drawing everyone’s attention as he pressed his hand against his chest. “I’m a drug addict who has lost a hell of a lot, and no one sees it but
me
. It’s like…it’s like my crumbling world was invisible. Unlike most people who had to have someone else pull them aside and say, ‘You’re fuckin’ up, you need help’, I never had that happen to me, okay? At least not about
this
. I’ve even got a couple of friends of mine from the outside telling me I was stupid, that I coulda kicked this on my own. I avoid inbound phone calls for a reason… Do you see what I’m dealing with? What I’m up against? They have no fucking clue what they’re talking about!” His heart beat a bit faster.

“They have no idea about all the horrible shit I’ve done because I was drunk, and that’s
just
the stuff I remember! I’m a police officer…and I am sitting here telling you these things that the news crews would absolutely
love
to find out about me, risking my reinstatement. You expect me to trust these other motherfuckers in here,” he said, pointing around the room. “I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, but my livelihood is on the line because all I’m aware of are two things, in order to last, in order to make money, Frieda.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to go the distance—to force himself through the mounting discomfort. “And those things are…” He held up two fingers. “Stealing and being a cop. Those
two
things can’t be done at the same time.” He smirked. “But that’s what I know how to do in order to make it, to survive. One I don’t want to do; the other, I
lived
to do…but it’s all on the line and this lying, sneaky asshole,” he pointed to Oliver, “won’t even admit to anything while the rest of us bleed on the damn floor every goddamn day!”

“Oh would you just fuck off, Officer Vitale…” Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes hooded, his pose that of a man who didn’t care.

“You have the nerve to say somethin’ to me, you goddamn fuckin’ pervert?!”

“Nick!”

“Open your mouth again and see what happens! I dare you, you roach looking son of a bitch! Look like a fuckin’ beetle with a turtleneck on and I’d like to stomp the hell outta you! Make the world a better place.”