November 5, 2012
I was never one to feel like my age. My body could take a beating and continue forward after the initial barrage of punches. But now I find that my fatigue sets in faster and it takes days if not weeks for my body to recover. Finally, my muscles, body tissue and bones, are showing the age that I thought I could elude until I reached well into my 40’s.
My invincibility staying with me even passed my teen years, until the strain of life on my body mass broke me. My bones creak like an old house settling on its foundation, my youth draining away as the cracks begin to break through the tough exterior. It’s cruel to watch and I can’t even close my eyes to hide fact that I am slowly withering away. Time is truly cruel and usual punishment.
I stare at my face, in a mirror, and trace the fine lines that are now my battle scars. My exterior serving as notice that my interior has been damaged and not even make-up or a happy face can mask the pain of a lifetime of trials and tribulations. My green eyes telling a tale that can be read by simply gazing into them, but if you read deeper into the depths of me, and get past the pain of the past, you can still see the beauty that lies within me in the present.
The aches and pains in my joints bubbling up to the surface coming through my skin in the form of bruises detailing the battle scars that are left behind from a whirlwind of physical activity. The deep blue and purple discoloration of my top layer of skin lasting longer then it use to because my healing is not like it once was and it’s something that I’ll never have again.
The will to win is still in me and when I see the object of my desire I do what I have to get it by ignoring the pain that jolts my body that isn’t swayed by my enthusiasm to catch a bad guy that may have caused someone some harm in someway. Mentally, I have good intentions to capture him. Physically my body is beginning to have other ideas.
“Police units be on the look out of a hispanic male in the area. He is under 18 and he was warrants for his arrest. One being a gun charge,” the dispatcher announces on the radio.
I’m in the immediate area of where he is and mentally I take my senses up a notch. I reach down and unlatch my seat belt, quickly sitting up in my seat. I lean forward slightly, leaning my weight on the steering wheel. I start to search my eyes scanning left to right.
“He ain’t around here,” I think to myself.
As I drive my patrol car down the road I can see off in the distance the object of my desire. The suspect on his bike less then a half-a-mile a way from me. My car’s momentum didn’t allow me enough time to announce on the police radio that I had him in my sights. I pull my car behind the rear tire of his bike. He slows the bike down to a stop and looks over his shoulder at me.
I step out of my car, “ Get off the bike now!” I announce.
There is a pause...
I take one step around my open car door. Then one step forward. As soon as my left foot touched the hot asphalt ground, my suspect pushes hard on his bikes pedal’s and quickly scurries away.
“Palm’s West I got him his running west bound,” I shout into the radio.
I jump back in the driver’s seat of my car and place the car in drive. As the car jolts forward my car door slams shut and the car quickly catches up to his manual machine.
Knowing his bicycle is no match for my 8 cylinder car he ditches the bike. He begins to run out pacing the bike as it crashes hard into the ground. The handle bars digging a trench into the ground. I stop my car suddenly, practically pushing the brake pedal into the floor board and slam the transmission into park.
I begin to chase him through the backyards of the houses. I have my eyes on him focused on what I wanted. Mentally. I was ready for him. I knew he was mine. He reached a 6 foot fence and with his 16 year old body leaped it like a gazelle.
Mentally, I wasn't giving up. Physically, my feet grind into the ground and my pace continues me forward slamming me into the fence. I peer through the criss cross metal fence and could only watch him disappear.
My mentality was to climb this fence and get my guy, physically, I had no chance against a 16 year old in a foot chase.
“Palm’s West to all units he is running west bound,” I humbly say on the radio.
I’ll get you one way or another, mentally speaking.
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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.
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