Adaptations…

(excerpt from Hogue’s 1st section, musings about his partner Cobb when they’re visiting the house of a Black woman who Cobb goes to church with and her daughter) – from my novel, Temperatures, published by Winding Road Stories

“Cobb says his pastor was never much for anything racist.

Believes the Lord holds everybody in the same esteem. Said the

pastor’s son runs services now, and he took after him. Always has

made sure to go against hatred of any kind, that that’s what Jesus

would do. Ballsiest pastor I ever heard of. Ignorant but ballsy.

He made sure to tell me these are good people. I told him jails

are full up with nothing but good people, to hear them tell it. Cell

after cell of good people who claim they got themselves in a bad

way.

We follow Miss Florrie down a long hall. Goes on forever. Feels

like that endless stretch of highway between rest stops. We finally

step into a kitchen. A woman’s sitting up to a table with her head

laid on top of her arms on it.

Wished I’d waited in the car. I could’ve. Sure as hell didn’t sign

up for all this today. Just supposed to be riding along, picking up a

thing or two. My C.O.’s hell bent on my rehabilitation. Not sure

why. Never has liked me much. Guess if a son of a gun like me

comes back over to Johnston all reformed, it’ll take some heat

off him.

Miss Florrie walks over by the woman.

“Rae,” Miss Florrie coos real gentle to her, rubbing her back

slow. “Rae, the officers are here.”

The woman shoots up, wide eyed like lightening just shot clear

through the roof and jolted her awake. Odd to me she’d be asleep at

a time like this. She’s darker than her mama’s making the whites of

her eyes even whiter. Her hair’s done in those real tight rows that

takes a long ass time. What she said about how long she was in the

beauty shop is more believable now.

“Mama! You let ‘em inside?” she starts hollering for all she’s

worth. “Why? Mama why?”

Miss Florrie don’t answer. She bends over, slips her arms in

around her, pulling her close, whispering. And whatever it is, Rae

calms—a wild horse easing into the rope. She lets her mama help

her rise to her feet. They walk over to Cobb.

“You remember Mitchum. Y’all come up together over at the

church, member? An’ this is his partner, Mr…Mr—”

“Hogue. Hogue ma’am,” I say.

“That’s right. Mr. Hogue, an’ they jus’ need you to come down to

the station with ‘em so they can get it all down an’ you can tell ‘em

all about what happened, tha’s all.” Miss Florrie’s coaxing. Wish we

could take her with us when we gotta bring in Jed again next week

after he’s drunk off his ass and tearing up Merl’s bar.

Cobb don’t take out his cuffs, he offers Rae his arm, and I get it.

Wouldn’t touch her myself less it was to cuff her, but he’s got his

own kumbaya kind of ways. Worse comes to worse, I’ll chase her

down if she bolts once we get outside.

Getting tired of him expecting me to be the one to give chase

when it’s called for though, all on account of me being the one who

actually goes to the gym. Seems like the more I work out, the more

double cheeseburgers he orders.

Rae links her shaky arm in Cobb’s. I trail behind, down the

hallway. Miss Florrie’s trailing me. I can hear her whispering

prayers all along the way.

“Lord, help my child. Lord, help her.”

“Now you just keep your eyes on me, Rae. Alright? Right on me,”

Cobb instructs in that fatherly voice he has.

Watching him walking along with this woman, small enough she

looks like a scared little girl there beside him, I wonder again, as I

have throughout my time with him, how he ever got himself tied up

in law enforcement. His tender heart can’t have long left. To hear

Jolie tell it, my heart turned to stone within the first six months of

me being on the job. Said my heart was already about the hardest of

anyone she knows anyhow. Bullshit. Adaptation’s what they’d call it

if we were any other species. Since we’re human, people say I’m hard

hearted. In my book, it’s called toughening up and growing a pair.“

Temperatures (novel extras)