Chapter 1 At Police Headquarters
It’s springtime in the state of New York. On Long Island, at police headquarters, Dramel is in his office. He’s the chief of police. The five ft. eleven, two hundred and forty-pounder has put on some weight like some of the old timers living a good and hearty life. His hair is black and gray. It’s short and nicely trimmed. He has a deep and hearty voice that could highly inspire you or astound you. Dramel has been a policeman for over 30 years. He is the pride and joy of the police department who believes that discipline, sound thinking, and steady alertness are part of the key to survival, superior performance, and courtesy. Among his peers, his cheerful attitude, his tactics, the caring for his personnel and for society has earned him the nickname GL. It stands for Goal Lucky. Again, evolving from the acknowledgments of this, it’s his outlook for a better society. Recently, the police have been enjoying the praise of the dismantling of a major crime syndicate. The success of making their environment a safer haven has had its share of negative results. From the thoughts of success and praise, it made some of their personnel over-relaxed and over-confident. Of others, it made them zealous and over-enthusiastic to achieve greater heights. Dramel acknowledging this works intensely to restore the morale of his personnel. One of his methods to achieve that goal, he is giving random spot checks through the ranks of his personnel. As he sits in his office, he looks over the contents that’s in a report folder and reads the report filled out by two of his officers.
As he reads the report and looks the contents in the folder the two officers stand at ease and waits for his comments. Every few seconds, after reading some of their report and looking at the some of the contents in the folder he looks up at them curiously. As he reads on, he reads something that surprises him. Astounded, he moves his back. No more does he have to read. Angered, he closes the folder. Looking up at them, he yells,
“This report is not within good standards. The length of time that you required to complete it is absurd!”
“But but but but but but but but but!”
Ludlow responds. Again, he reads some of the report and looks over the contents in the folder. After closing it, he stands up, picks it up and slams it down on his desk replying,
“No buts Ludlow! You men did a sloppy job on this case, and the length of time that was required to document it is absurd!”
Angered, he points to them yelling,
“Now. If you men don’t get in gear, I’m going to be on your backside so hard and quick. Y’all won’t know what hit Y'all!”
Officer Learington in response to his accusations attempts to speak,
“Shut up!”
Dramel angrily yells before he can utter a word. As he looks them up and down, he becomes more upset responding,
“Get out of my office!”
Again, Ludlow attempts to speak on their behalf,
“But, sir!”
“I said get out!”
The two officers turn around mumbling as they slowly walk towards the door. Dramel hearing them and looking at how slow they’re walking becomes astounded,
“Huah???”
This is what you could acknowledge he’s thinking as he surprisingly moves his head back.
After thinking for a few seconds, he smiles. He moves to the side of his desk. Slyly and humorously, he slowly turns his head from side to side looking at the rank insignia on his lapels. Again, he looks at them mumbling and walking slowly to the door. Enraged, he yells,
“I said get out!!!”
His rage throws a lot of fear into them. Continuously, they frantically move each other aside as they try to open the door. Humored, Dramel buckles over laughing. Outside his office, his secretary and the officers waiting looks at the door of his office in fear. The sudden battering against it has them totally surprised. About ten seconds pass. Finally, the door burst opens. Out comes Learington speed walking to the outer door. Ludlow slams the door shut. He holds it shut with both hands and one foot pressed hard against the wall for support. In the process, he drops his cap. After a few seconds pass, he lets go of the doorknob and turns around. Breathing in and out heavily, he leans against it for few seconds recuperating. The chief’s secretary and the officers waiting stands up. They look on in fear as they look at the perspiration running down his face.
“Swish!”
Ludlow responds and then pulls a handkerchief from out of his back pocket. He wipes the perspiration from off his face, and then put it back into his pocket. He picks up his cap and puts it on. Afterward, he looks at the secretary and officers waiting. Holding out his arms, he irrationally says,
“We did a good job! I swear we did!”
After deeply inhaling and exhaling he takes off his cap. He puts it under his arm. Dumbfounded, he thinks aloud,
“I just don’t understand!”
Shaking his head from side to side, he walks towards the outer door.
“Dag.”
He says in haste as he continues to walk. Dumbfounded by his remark, he looks up, shrugs his shoulders up and down, and shakes his head from side to side. Again, he thinks aloud,
“See, now I’m so upset, I’m thinking aloud. If I keep this up, people might take for granted that I’m talking to myself.”
Thinking about what he just said, he again thinks aloud,
“I don’t understand that.”
Again, he starts mumbling. The secretary and the officers look at each other and then at him hard. They continue to stare as he continues to mumble, open the outer door and leave. Sergeant Shearaden and Witfield turn their head and curiously looks at each other. Astonished by thoughts of perceptions, they surprisingly move their head back. They then turn and look at the door of the office of chief Simms.
