Nothing Happened In Fairview

Daniel ‘Danny’ Rowe

Fairview, West Virginia — April 1993

The radio crackled to life just as Danny finished adjusting his uniform in the cruiser’s side mirror, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch even though he’d been wearing the badge for three months now. Fairview looked the same as it always did at the start of third shift—empty streets, glowing porch lights, the gas station still open on Route 6—and that familiarity steadied him more than he liked to admit. He checked the time, logged in, and waited for the dispatcher to speak, already rehearsing the procedure in his head. There were rules for everything, his brother had said. As long as you followed them, nothing went wrong.

Fairview was an eerie little town tucked in a valley of the Appalachians, but still, it was better than the bustle of Baltimore. Danny’s fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel, waiting for the radio to speak. The radio clicked, then a tired woman’s voice came through, words dragging like she’d already said them a hundred times tonight. “Uhh, we’ve got a possible domestic situation over at Blueridge, perp could be armed, although this is the 16th call we’ve got this month, so don’t expect action.”

Danny shook his head, sighing deeply as he shifted his car into drive.

“This better be for real.” He muttered to himself, taking a left down Redbridge.

* * *

About 5 minutes later, he arrived at Blueridge Trailers. The seniors at the precinct warned him about this place. ‘Unsavory types’, They always said. Danny did some final checks of his outfit and knocked on the door of a trailer. A redheaded woman came out, and the smell of chicken meatballs emanated from her opened door.

“What do ya want?” She squinted at Danny.

“Cuz I ain’t snitchin’ on no one here officer, I don’t know nun, I ain’t seen nun.”  She waved a finger in front of his face, Danny looked at her closer for a brief moment, then relaxed.

“No, no ma’am I'm here to see if you’ve heard uh….yelling?” He inquired, raising his hands passively.

“Oh don’t mind ol’ Charles n’ Margret, those two go at it every night for sum unknown reason, if ya ask me the two should just get a divorce already.” She snickered, showing off her full set of gums.

Danny did some internal questioning and readjusted.

“Uh, just point to where those two live please.”

The woman pointed to the trailer farthest on the left, and he made his way over, boots crunching on the wet mulch. Before he could even raise a hand to knock, he could already hear muffled yelling.

“Yer useless woman, just plain useless.”

“Well maybe, if you’d get off your hind n’ actually got a job i’d be able to get nice things!”

“I ALREADY WORK”

“FOR WHAT?, THE PORK TENDERLOIN THAT'S SITTIN’ ON YOUR FAT STOMACH?”

“GET OUTTA MY TRAILER YOU WENCH!”

A sudden bang, then the door flung open and a haggardly dressed woman ran off onto the street.

“N’ DON’T COME BACK TILL YOU SHOW SOME oh—oh hello there officer.” The man’s demeanor changed as soon as he saw the badge.

“Sir, did things get physical with your wife tonight?” Danny asked, looking at the woman standing on the gravel of the street. Their trailer smelled like damp air and cheap beer.

“You’d think I'd hit a good-for-nun thing like her,” He offered Danny a beer.

While he felt a little tempted, he denied. “You’re sorely mistaken anywho.”  The reclining chair groaned under the man's weight.

“We’re fine, and tell that nosey bastard who keeps on callin’ the feds on us that I'm gonna punch ‘em in the jaw if they pull that stunt again, ya hear?”

All Danny could do is stare at him for a few seconds, and walk away. A prickle of doubt washed his skin but he pushed it down. Gravel crunched underfoot as Danny walked over to the woman on the street. She gave him a nasty look as he approached.

“I don’t want yer sympathy, that rotten man’s been changed since they laid him off back in ‘91”

Danny drew out a small notepad and jotted a few non-essential things down.

“Are you sure things will be fine ma’am? I don’t wanna have to put your husband in a cruiser.” His eyebrows lowered in a look of sympathy, although it probably looked like apathy.

“Yeah yeah, I'm fine. That man is dead to me in 1993, and he’ll be dead to me till 2090.” A wet cough escaped her lips as she spat onto the ground.

Danny gave her a final nod and strolled back into his car.

* * *

The car turned into the parking lot of the 24/7 diner. Danny killed the ignition, listening to the quiet thrum of his engine fade. A light drizzle began to haze the town. His hand reached into his passenger seat and grabbed his fleece jacket. It slipped over his arms and he zipped it up. For a few seconds he fumbled with the buttons on the radio.

“Blueridge wasn’t anything too bad, dispatch, just an argument.”

The radio settled back into the receiver as Danny settled back into his seat. “God I'm tired.” He mumbled to himself before getting out of his car. His free hand reached out to rub his eyes as he walked into the old diner, its neon sign flickering the words ‘Henry’s Diner’. The bell jingled as he pushed the door open, hands in his pockets. The one person that looked to be there was a 19-something teen with dark makeup and a deadpan look.

“We don’t serve meat or anything not on the appetizers list after 9, so what's you-” Danny cut off the deadpan voice.

“Just a coffee with cream, that's all.” Two fingers reached out subconsciously to drum the counter. The teen's eyebrows raised slightly before she mumbled something under her breath and went into the back. She came out a few minutes later with a cold cup of coffee. Danny fished out three coins and slid them over, walking out the door. As he sipped on his coffee inside the car, he sighed and looked up.

“Guess I have to write it up the same way I always do.”

“Nothing to report.”