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Having a Bad Day, A Short Story



Some people have a bad day. Others have a worse day. Sometimes you get dragged into someone's nightmare. As a cop you never know when or where that will happen. But eventually, it will happen.

I was on early morning patrol on a Tuesday during rush hour traffic. The sun had just broke the earths horizon and the rays of light stretched across the streets of my city like clouds rolling over a mountain top. I was traveling north bound in my police cruiser among the rest of the other early morning commuters. The traffic flowed fast and freely without any rhyme or reason on this day. Until I saw a sea of red lights in front of me. I slammed on my breaks with the quickness and power of a thoroughbred starting at the gate. As my squad car began to stop I peered around from my drivers seat the best I could to see beyond the car in front of me. I saw someone get out of their car and start running past the intersection. It couldn't have been more than 50 feet in front me.

Instinctively, like a lioness on her pray I flipped on my over head blue police lights and manually and erratically hit my police siren like a broken record to weave myself a short distance to see what was going on. As my field of vision became more clear I could see what ended everyone's easy commute. There was a green Toyota or Honda diagonally stopped in the middle lane of a 3 lane road. The 2 front wheels of the disabled car were over the broken striped lines that separate each lane and began an intrusion into the left lane. The front end looked crippled and damaged badly. The back end of the car rose higher in the air then the front. So much so I could see the muffler and rear gas tank staring back at me. I immediately blocked as much of the 3 traffic lanes as my 17 foot 8 inch police cruiser could cover.

Before I stepped out I saw a man lying on the ground with people around him. Was that the driver? Pedestrian? I notify dispatch on the radio.

121 (Me): 121 Palms West

Palms West (Dispatch): 121 go ahead

121: I have a signal 4 possible car vs. pedestrian I'll advise. (signal 4 Traffic Crash)

I get out of my car. My eyes are fixated on why all the fascination of the people that have surrounded this person lying on the ground. As I weave my way through the hoards of people I see what they're gawking at.

121: Palms West I have a person down. I need all north bound and south bound traffic stopped. Possible THI and it appears the pedestrian is gonna go 7.

(THI is a Traffic Homicide And a 7 is a dead person)

I demand everyone to move and leave.

I announce to the crowd,"IF YOUR NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

Amazing what a uniform and a very vocal voice will do to a crowd. They started leaving. As I step forward to the person on the ground I immediately see he won't make it. We make eye contact. I stare into his eyes. He stares back at me gasping for air. I look up at the badly damaged car that sruck him down and yell as I point at it through the chaos.

"Where's that driver of that car!" looking directly at the car.

A lady who standing by me points to the city bus bench and says.

"He's right there!" "

My God. He's a kid." I think to myself. I tell the lady,"Sit with him right now." I then refocus the guy on the ground.

Not much older then my years of 35. White male. Wearing a green jacket and blue jeans. He looked like he was healthy at one point and appeared to be having a bad day.

"Hey man stay with me, stay with me." I tell him. I demand him. I know he's in rough shape and I know he isn't going to make it.

I get back on my radio and notify Palms West.

121: Palms West tell Fire Rescue to hurry up.

The blood pools up around him and spreads in a circular shape. It was like a perfectly lateled scoop of pancake mix evenly spread on the griddle as he batter spreads to form a perfect circle. I have to widen my stance.

As I do this I look down and notice I am standing one what is left of his left and right shin bones. They were mangled and displaced from his body.

"Come on man stay with me. Look at me. Stay right here" I point to my eyes. Loking directly at him. His breathing is heavy and labored. He still has life in his eyes. But his mangled body wasn't cooperating. "Come on man. I'm here. Just hang in there. We have Fire Rescue coming."

Fuck is all I can say with my inner voice.

His right shoulder was separated from its scoket under tucked under his upper back. His blood continue to drain from his body.

121: Palms West he's gonna go 7. Pause (silence) He breathes. I watch. He stops.

121: Palms West he's 7.

Time 7:57 am

Yep, we all have bad days. Some worse then others. Sometimes we need good ones.
When will that be?





Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

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