Authors: Victor Methos
12
Stanton was back at his desk.
He checked his watch and it was well past seven in the evening. Most everyone else had gone home.
Kai stepped out of his office with a plastic bag, holding the remnants of the lunch he’d brought. He clicked off his light, then walked over to Stanton and pulled up a chair next to him.
“You ready to investigate graffiti calls?” Kai said.
Stanton grinned. “How’d you know I wouldn’t do it?”
“That first day we was on patrol together, you remember that?”
Stanton clicked his computer off. “I do. We were in City Heights.”
Kai chuckled. “Man, we knew that place was gonna be crazy but we was just dumb kids, man. That gangbanger we pulled over. You got him outta the car to search him.”
Stanton nodded. “I smelled pot.”
“Yeah, and he says he had a baggie on him and you told him to get it.” Kai laughed. “So he reaches into his car and your dumb ass let him.”
“He would have gotten a fine. I had no idea people could be that irrational.”
“Man, when he pulled out that piece and shot at you, I swear I thought I was gonna shit myself. I ran over and tackled him, you remember that? Slammed him into his truck so hard he blacked out.”
Stanton smiled, remembered a young boy’s wide eyes as a three-hundred-pound Hawaiian charged at him like a semi truck. “I think he’s the one that needed new underwear.”
Kai laughed some more and had to wipe the tears away. “Oh, man. But what was I sayin’? Oh yeah. So when he pulled out that piece, I saw your face. You know what it did?”
Stanton shrugged.
“Nothin’, man. You didn’t have no reaction. You was ready to die. That’s when I knew you was a cop, a real cop, for life. Ain’t no property crimes for you, man. This here’s your calling.” Kai rose and slapped his shoulder. He pulled something out of his pocket: a gold badge. He laid it on the desk. “See you tomorrow, Detective.”
Stanton stared at the badge a long time. He picked it up and ran his finger over gold lettering that said HONOLULU and POLICE. He clipped it to his waistband and rose.
A full moon was out and the waves on the North Shore were what the teenagers called a
pupule
. A term Stanton had learned indicated a set of waves that were reckless to be surfed. Particularly at night.
He parked near the beach and watched the surfers that were already there. They were young kids, just at the beginning of their lives. The waves were getting up to five or six feet and then would come crashing down on the backs of the surfers. Stanton had felt that crushing pain hundreds of times. It was similar, he thought, to how having a dump truck full of gravel poured on you from behind would feel.
He drove again and was home in just a few moments. No lights were on. Johnny was sleeping over at David’s house, but Mathew should have been home. Stanton parked in the driveway and went inside. The house was warm, dark, and silent. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his couch. One of the rules they had was that Stanton had to know exactly where his boys were at all times, and they had to have their cell phones on. If they didn’t answer, or call back in a few minutes, they were grounded.
He tried Mathew’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.
A noise was coming from upstairs.
Stanton listened quietly a moment. It sounded like voices. He thought briefly about retrieving his Desert Eagle out of the closet but knew he shouldn’t. If he allowed himself to go down that road, where every sound was a threat, he would go all the way and wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d seen many detectives unable to leave their children alone for even a moment because of the things they saw everyday.
He rose and walked up the stairs. The noises were coming from Mathew’s bedroom. Stanton knocked on the door. “Hey, bud, you on the phone?”
Stanton distinctly heard two voices and one was female. He opened the door. Mathew was lying with his shirt off, the moonlight illuminating his sunburned skin. A lump was in the bed next to him,
loosely covered by sheets. Her feet were sticking out from the bottom. The scene was so ridiculous that Stanton felt like laughing, but knew he couldn’t.
“Tell her to get dressed and go home, Matt. We need to talk.”
Stanton went down to his own bedroom and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought about what to say to his son. That he himself had been right where he was.
Stanton remembered living in a shack on the beach after high school. He would surf all day and spend his nights with the
most lovely girl he had ever known. He couldn’t remember her name now and it bothered him. She wasn’t beautiful by conventional standards, but an innocence and vitality radiated out of her like the sun.
One day she disappeared and he never saw her again. It wasn’t unusual. At least twenty surfer bums were in that house, and people packed up and left everyday. But she hadn’t said goodbye. He wondered if it was because she knew it would hurt him. He had fallen hard.
Often, he thought about her and wondered where she was.
He did this at around Matt’s age, but he also knew sex was a weapon that could lead to destruction. One of the best men Stanton had ever known was now HIV-positive because of a reckless night. He would die for a few minutes’ pleasure.
Stanton wasn’t sure how to get this across in a way Mathew would relate to and understand. He heard whispering and footsteps. He rose and went to his window. A girl with long hair was walking to a car on the curb. She got in and left.
Stanton went out and saw Mathew on the couch. His son picked up the remote and turned on the television.
“Turn off the TV. We need to talk, Matt.”
Matt rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned off the television and leaned back into the couch. “Is this where you lecture me on teen sex?”
“I don’t want to lecture you. I trust you, and you don’t need a lecture from me. But what you did was dangerous. Reckless. And you did it in my house next to your little brother’s room?” Stanton paused. “Was this the first time?”
Mathew didn’t say anything.
“Matt, was this the first time?”
“No.”
“How many girls?”
He shrugged and tapped the remote against his thigh. “I
dunno.”
“Well, think hard.”
“Four, I guess.”
Stanton had to suppress a gasp. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Here?”
“No, she was the first one in Hawaii. The rest were back home.”
Stanton stared at his carpet. No lights were on, and the moonlight cast shadows across the floor and walls. “Did you use protection?”
“I dunno.”
Stanton rose and grabbed Mathew’s arm. “Did you use protection?”
Mathew ripped his arm away. “No, all right! It sucks.”
A breeze was blowing outside and scraping a tree branch against a window in the kitchen. Anger coursed through Stanton as he listened to it. “How could you do that? Are you crazy?” he shouted.
“Mom told me about the stuff you did when you were my age. You can’t judge me.”
“I’m your father. I can do what I want. How could you be so stupid?”
“Please, Dad. I know the girls are clean. This girl’s never even been with another guy.”
“They all say that, Matt. Do you know what could happen to you? Forget pregnancy, do you know the diseases you could get? Do you want to die because of ten minutes in the sack?”
Mathew rose. “I’m going out.”
“No, you’re not,” Stanton said, stepping in front of him.
“Get the hell out of my way.”
Stanton slapped him.
They both stood quietly and stared at each other a moment. Tears welled up in Mathew’s eyes and he ran out of the house.
Stanton collapsed onto the couch, his hand over his eyes. A pounding headache was coming on, and he rubbed his face and rose. He went out onto the patio and sat down. The moon was lighting the ocean a dull white.
13
Stanton rose the next morning and went and checked Mathew’s room. His son wasn’t there. Stanton went to Johnny’s room. Johnny was asleep and Stanton woke him.
“Have you seen your brother?”
“He’s sleeping in the car, Dad. He said you guys got into a fight.”
Stanton slipped on a robe and went outside. The Toyota Corolla
Mathew’d bought with his own money working part time was in the driveway. Mathew was in the backseat, curled into a ball. Stanton opened the door and Mathew stirred.
“Did you sleep out here the whole night?” Stanton asked.
He nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“I’m sorry I hit you, Mathew. I promised myself I would never do that and I did. It was a line I said I would never cross.”
Mathew sat up but didn’t say anything.
“I’m worried about you. You’re seventeen and you’ve already slept with four girls. You have to ask yourself what type of man you want to be. Our actions make our life. All the little things you do add up to your life. If you do nothing but actions not in your long-term interest, you will destroy your life. Selfishness is not doing whatever you want. True selfishness, truly looking out for yourself, is thinking about what kind of person you want to be and taking actions toward that. That’s what I want you to think about today, Matt. What kind of man do you want to be?”
Mathew rolled his hands together but wouldn’t look Stanton in the eyes.
“You’re going to have children of your own, Matt. Those days your mother told you about, they’re not moments I’m proud of. They’re my youth and they led to things I wish I didn’t have to remember. Don’t let yourself have those regrets.” Stanton glanced over to a kid riding his bike past the house. “I have somewhere I want to take you tonight. Be home at seven sharp.”
“Where?”
“Just be here at seven.”
Stanton walked into the house and got dressed. Mathew came back in and did the same and headed out to school. Stanton made breakfast for Johnny and they sat at the table. They said a prayer and had cereal, eggs, and orange juice.
“Is Matt in trouble?” Johnny asked.
“No. He’s almost a man. He has to make his own decisions soon, so he can’t get into trouble with me. He’s just making some bad choices right now.”
Johnny chewed his cereal and then took another bite. “Is it because he’s humping?”
Stanton nearly spit out his orange juice. He placed the glass down and took a moment to think. “Johnny, that’s something that two people do when they’re married. Not before.”
His younger son raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his juice. “Matt says it’s awesome.”
Stanton grinned. “It is, but only if you love the other person.” He checked the clock on his phone. “We’re going to talk about this tonight. A friend of mine is coming over to babysit you for a couple of hours while I take Matt somewhere.”
“Who?”
“Our neighbor Suzanne.” He leaned over and kissed his boy on the head. “Let’s go, I’ll drop you at school.”
Keylock
Security was a national company that provided monitoring, home security, and loss prevention training and personnel. They also provided something Stanton couldn’t have guessed until he read an article about the company on
Business Insider
: mercenaries for use by governments around the world.
They had local offices in all fifty states, and the Honolulu office wasn’t far from the precinct. Stanton drove there with the windows down, listening to a Chris
Isaak station on Pandora.
The building was something you would pass by a thousand times and not notice.
Two stories of ugly brown brick, with a mechanic shop on the ground level. Stanton parked behind the building and walked around to the entrance. He went in through the front door and saw the elevator there. The elevator doors were carved up with knives and spattered with graffiti. When he hit the button to recall it, he heard grinding gears and scraping metal. He took the stairs instead.
A simple wooden door with the words KEYLOCK in bold lettering was at the top of the stairs.
A small hallway led to the bathrooms and an emergency fire escape, the only other things on this floor. Stanton went inside the office and smiled at the receptionist.
“
Howya doin’?”
“What can I do for you, sir?”
Stanton walked over and placed his hands on the counter. Studies in body language had found that people responded better to postures where they could see a person’s hands rather than having the hands hidden. They were more apt to be cooperative with people in such postures, and later ranked them as having higher rates of attractiveness and likeability.
He remembered he had his shield, though he’d still forgotten to get his firearm. He flashed the tin. “I need video for the Dale Koa Hotel for May the first of this year. The hotel told me I could find it here.”
“May the first, let’s see, that’s what, thirty-four days ago?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, we usually require a subpoena or a warrant.”
Stanton quickly assessed the woman. No wedding ring, the nails on her hands bitten down to slivers. Though she dressed well, the details that many people put into their appearance were missing. A few speckles of white were on her wrists. Oil burns from cooking her own meals.
“Can I be honest with you? I do need that video, and time is kinda of the essence. Maybe we can discuss it over drinks?”
“Sorry?” she said, suppressing a grin.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “I’ve only been in Honolulu a year. I’m from California and we don’t have time to be subtle. When we like something we have to go for it.”
“It’s more laid back here. People have less stress and live longer. You should get used to that.”
“Well, hopefully I can ease into it.” He waited a beat and smiled. “I would really appreciate getting that video today, though.”
Her mouth twisted in a silly gesture, as though she were thinking of something perplexing, and then she said, “Wait here.”
As she disappeared into the back, Stanton sat down on one of the chairs. In front of him was a coffee table with magazines spread over it. He didn’t look at them and instead checked email on his phone. There was nothing that required his attention right now.
“Okay, here
ya go.”
He rose and approached the front counter. A DVD in a white envelope with a transparent front
lay in front of him and he wondered if the person he was looking for was on there.
“You…
gonna take it?” she said.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Sorry. I’m not very good at this, am I?”
“You’re doing fine.”
Stanton picked up the DVD and placed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anything else you need?”
“I’ll be okay.
Raincheck on those drinks?”
“Sure. Anytime.”