Christopher at a train museum
*Two mild swear words
November 30th, 2012
“Get out of the way! You're in the way!” I heard being shouted just beyond the thick brush that covered my view...
A burglary had just occurred. And as I was arriving to the house where it was happening the bad guy was running from the scene at the same time. I jumped out of my police car, after placing it in park, and began to chase him on foot along the canal bank adjacent to the house.
But I lost track of the would be Grinch just beyond the tree line. We decided to call in the dogs and police helicopter, so that the eye in the sky can sniff out what the nose on the ground can not. However, It's that same tree line I suddenly found myself to be standing in when the police dogs was coming my way.
At about the point I lost sight of him is where I should have stopped in my pursuit so that the police dog could work his magic and sniff out my suspect without his senses competing with my body odor. I just wanted to sniff him out on my own that's why I moved a little more forward then I probably should have.
But I couldn’t help it. Although I am no hunter of animals in my personal life, I love to hunt the bad guy. It took all my strength to pull back, but without him in my sight or a general area where he ran, It simply makes no sense to continue on.
But I couldn’t help it. Although I am no hunter of animals in my personal life, I love to hunt the bad guy. It took all my strength to pull back, but without him in my sight or a general area where he ran, It simply makes no sense to continue on.
The adrenaline drips from my finger tips and like a horse being placed in the gate for his run at the Breeders Cup, you can't help but run the moment you hear that bell. No matter what the odds in Vegas read, that set the odds against your success, It is your will as a public servant to put a bad person in jail that compels you to win.
While I continued my run, my labored breathing sucked in the dust filled air filling my inner mouth with dirt and grit. The sand clogging my mucus membranes and drying my mouth. The particles of dirt found its way into my tear ducts and caused them to stream tears from my eyes.
Wearing all green but yet black shorts- I thought after I announced it.
I finally stop at the position I'm at now. My police radio is an active chatter box as the sergeant commands everyone where to go to set up a perimeter. My inner ears are clogged due to the lack of blood flow. I wipe my eyes, accidentally rubbing in more dirt. I can taste the grit in my mouth and hear it crunching as I clench my teeth.
Breathe...breathe....breathe
"All units the canine (K9) is tracking south," the officer announces on the radio.
Finally, I hear the voice, "Get out of the way! You're in the way!"
Man my inner voice is loud- I think to myself.
"Fusaro! Move over here," I hear an entirely new voice shouting out to me. I look to the sky wondering if it was God or the pilot in the helicopter.
My ears catch the voice again, "Fusaro, over here," but this time it was announced differently. It was announced on the police radio.
I look over and see my Lieutenant sitting safely by his car and not at his usual place behind the safety of his desk.
"Hey L.T." I say. LT as an abbreviated but affectionate name you call your superior of the lieutenant rank.
"I can tell it's you now but from all your screaming on the radio before I got here, I had to assume you were the one chasing him," he said.
I place my hands on my knees as I suck in the air around me to get past my labored breathing, "Yes. It was me and I almost had him," I said with a smile on my face while looking up at him from the comfort of my bent over posture.
"Yeah?" he said with a little bit of sarcasm.
"You do realize that you could have driven your patrol car down the canal after him," he said.
"Well, yea," I erect my body and look around,"but then," my breathing is more labored and I place my hands on top of my head, "where's the fun in that?"
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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.