Yarp
He was strolling casually through the store when he saw it by the dairy fridges.
Michael, the Somerfield store employee, was slumped down on the floor, crying in a puddle of a half-dozen bottles worth of spilt milk, the broken bottles strewn by his feet.
In the five years since the NWA's reign of terror had been broken, he had been promoted to an ordinary shelf stacker from his former position as a trolley collector. However, other than this small change, Michael was still the same person, and this occasionally resulted in mishaps like this.
Fellow shoppers passing by slowed down to gawk, point and shake their heads but then carried on with their business without so much as a flicker of sympathy or understanding on their faces.
Inspector Danny Butterman, however, couldn't help but be moved by the sight. Michael was a simpleton, having the mind of a child imprisoned in an adult's body. Had this been a five-year-old, he was sure that at least a few of the shoppers wouldn't have hesitated to assist and comfort him.
However, no such luck was forthcoming for Michael. After all, he was a hulking mass of an individual, easily towering over many of them at full height. He had the face of a bouncer – meaty and intimidating, with lips perpetually turned down in a thick frown and eyes that saw but still seemed dead to everything in the world.
Even if the others would never say it out loud, the message from their indifference was clear: Michael was a freak, an outcast from normal society; an aberration that would be ignored if possible, and pushed aside if not. This latest mishap was just further confirmation of that in their minds.
Fighting back tears at the sight, he stepped forward into the puddle and held out his hand to him.
"Need a little help there?"
Michael simply stared ahead, softly crying for a short while, before looking up to Danny, his face quickly turning back to the expressionless, dead stare that he was so known for around the town.
"Narp." Michael's reply was curt and emotionless, bordering on dismissive. Pushing himself up using the low front wall of the display fridge he was slumped against, he trudged down the aisle absentmindedly, in search of a mop and bucket and perhaps, a more capable staff member.
Danny simply stood there, watching him slink away with a look of concern and sympathy, his hand still outstretched in a simple gesture of kindness.
Eventually, Danny turned on his heel and left the aisle, trudging past the mass of shoppers lining up at the counters, and out through the sliding front doors. He didn't even bother to buy the Cornetto he was looking for; he just wanted to get away from the callousness and insensitivity on display.
Finding the police cruiser in the parking lot, he unlocked the driver side door and stepped inside, but didn't start the car, slumping deep into the seat with a sigh of frustration and opting to stare out the front window in deep thought.
Him and Michael weren't so different, he thought. As a young child, he had always endured bullying and harassment for being portly and slightly dim-witted. Every taunt, every point of the finger, or push or shove from his childhood years was brought back into his mind with vivid clarity and it brought tears to his eyes.
What had happened to Michael was simply a more grown up version – subtler and much more reserved, but he knew it hurt him all the same. Despite his impassive demeanour, Danny knew him well enough to know about the inner turmoil brewing under the surface and he couldn't help but become overwhelmed with compassion for the man.
Suddenly, Danny felt himself taken over by a strong desire to get to know Michael better. He wanted to be his best friend; to be there for him whenever he needed, to raise him up in his times of strength and to offer a shoulder to cry on in times of weakness. Danny had never had somebody like this in his childhood, and he wouldn't allow Michael to suffer the same loneliness if he could help it.
After all, birds of a feather should flock together, and Michael was a wounded bird in need of a flock.
Fastening his seatbelt, he blinked away his tears, turned the keys in the ignition, and sped out of the parking lot in a manner not particularly safe or befitting a police officer, heading back to the station to end his shift and hopefully get away from it all.
Time to go home and unwind.
The next day, Danny saw it again.
Michael, slumped against the store shelves, crying in a mess of a half-dozen broken sauce bottles.
Once again, the crowd was indifferent. Once again, Danny was moved with compassion.
Once again, Danny stepped forward into the puddle and held out his hand.
Once again, Michael rejected the gesture with a curt "Narp" before pushing himself up and trudging down the aisle.
"Lurch, come on, don't push me away." Danny called out to his receding form, using his nickname. His hand was still outstretched. "Please. Let me help you."
No response was forthcoming as Michael rounded the corner and disappeared into another aisle. After a brief moment of hesitation, Danny simply dropped his hand to his side and turned on his heel, leaving the way he came.
Just like last time.
Maybe he'll be fine. Thought Danny, attempting to justify letting this go. However, deep down, Danny knew that the disdain and rejection was festering inside Michael, and if left for too long, it would eat him from the inside out.
Danny approached the sliding doors and watched them automatically open as he walked. However, he stopped at the threshold, hesitating to step through to the outside, as if the door tracks on the floor were a boundary that he could not physically cross without being cursed in some way.
It didn't feel right to him to leave this. If there was one thing that Chief Inspector Nicholas Angel taught him, it was that being a police officer was not just about gun fights or car chases. It was about helping your community to be the best it could be. Whether that was as simple as a smile and a tip of the hat to the odd passer-by, or as complex as talking down a drunken, raucous family in the dead of night, no task was too big or small for an officer; all tasks were for the collective good of the community.
Danny fell so deep into thought that he didn't realize that the sliding doors were closing on him until they thumped into his shoulders, shocking him out of his trance-like state and making him jump backwards into the store.
It appeared that his body had made his decision for him. Now he would follow through like the good police officer he was.
He turned on his heel again, and headed back inside the store, striding purposefully through the aisles in search of Michael.
He found him by the same sauce puddle that he had sat in, though this time, he was slowly pushing a mop around the edges of the puddle, glumly staring down at his feet as he did so. Instead of cleaning up, he was only succeeding in smearing the dark sauce further.
Danny cleared his throat, causing Michael to stop briefly and look up at him. A short moment passed as their gazes locked on one another, before Michael stared back down again and resumed mopping.
"Lurch, please?" Danny pleaded. "Let's talk."
No response from Michael.
"Lurch, come on." Danny took a few cautious steps toward him, only to cause Michael to turn away from him and slowly walk away, dragging the mop behind him and leaving dark streaks down the aisle.
His current approach clearly wasn't making any inroads, so it was time to change tack.
"I'll buy you a cuddly monkey." Danny said. This time, Michael stopped in his tracks.
Slowly, he turned around to face Danny. A short while later, Danny saw a slight smile tug at the corners of his lips. Soon enough, it was a full-fledged toothy grin and giggle, and Danny couldn't be happier at the sight.
"C'mon, let's talk to your manager," Danny said as he walked up to Michael, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him away. "You need a day off. There's some things I need to talk about with you."
Danny had made extraordinary progress that day.
Michael may have only ever responded with either "Narp" or "Yarp", seemingly the only ways he knew how to respond, but Danny knew him well enough to see beyond them anyway.
Danny was finding a way into Michael's heart; he was opening up to another person, which was unfamiliar territory. in his entire life, his mother was the only person Michael could ever feel safe and secure with. His mother was the one person that truly loved him – the only one that could be his rock. Whenever the storms of life got too rough, there was always one person he would run to.
But now, perhaps he could have another rock, In the form of Danny. As simple as he was, Michael could still see the truth behind Danny's words. He needed company to become whole again. His mother may be his only source of comfort, but she was old and ailing, and she wouldn't be around forever. If she were to go, he would be lost, drifting aimlessly without an anchor, without help or hope.
Michael didn't appear to be yet willing to make that plunge with Danny however. He was making remarkable progress, but big changes rarely happen in a day. Letting Danny take a place in his heart alongside his mother was still too much for him, but perhaps he would consider it someday.
Danny too was feeling unusually pleased with his exchange with Michael. All his life, he had wanted to be something more, something greater. Before Nicholas Angel arrived in Sanford as an over-eager Sergeant, eager to right every wrong he saw and uphold all that was good, that something was what he saw in action movies – gun fights, car chases: proper action. That had come and gone.
But this was far more fulfilling. Helping a fellow citizen who he could empathize with deeply triggered a stronger sense of gratification in him than any adrenaline rush could. This was true policing; helping out the community one person at a time – building ties and forging connections.
And Danny was beginning to forge a connection with Michael. He found that he cared deeply for this man, more than any other person in his life. After all, he was whole, while Michael was broken. He was the one who had broken through his troubles, while Michael was still stumbling around in the darkness. Michael was merely a reflection of Danny in a time gone by. All Danny needed to do was to give him a direction, and perhaps one day, Michael too would heal.
All he had to do was follow Nicholas' example. He would be the mentor, and Michael the mentee. There wouldn't be as much action as there was with Nicholas, but that didn't matter to him anymore.
The sun was setting low on the horizon now, and Danny realized how late it was. He had lost track of time.
"It's getting late Lurch. Need me to send you home?"
Michael shook his head slowly. "Narp."
Danny watched as he stood up and walked away, a plush cuddly monkey in his right arm.
"See you tomorrow!" Danny called out after him.
Lurch giggled in response.
The next day, Danny was walking around the stores, looking for Michael.
He looked in every aisle, but couldn't find him. Asking every staff member he came across proved unfruitful as well; none of them had seen him. Even the store manager hadn't seen him or been able to contact him.
He didn't think much of it at the time, instead heading to the fridges to grab a cornetto before heading back outside to the police cruiser.
However, this happened again on the second day.
Then again on the third.
And now it was the fourth day, and still no sign of Michael.
This worried Danny greatly. Michael was always punctual at the store. Something was very, very wrong and he needed to know exactly what was going on.
Rushing outside to the parking lot, Danny jumped inside his police cruiser. Hastily starting the car, he floored the accelerator, peeling out of the parking lot and narrowly missing entering cars on his way out.
Danny sped through the town like a madman, dangerously swerving around other cars and pedestrians on the way to the house Michael shared with his mother. Like most houses in Sanford, it was a rural property located some ways off from the town.
Approaching the house, Danny pulled up outside the front gate and looked down the driveway. The family car was still parked in its usual location, which gave a good indication that Michael should have been home. He couldn't be sure of course, but it wasn't easy to travel around Sanford without a vehicle. Moreover, Michael along with his surviving family members had few friends that lived close enough to give them a lift anywhere.
Danny simply sat in his car and looked out the driver side window, watching for any sign of life inside the house. He watched the curtains, the doors, even the chimney but got nothing. After waiting for a while, he decided to radio the police station for help, and was quickly informed that Chief Inspector Nicholas and a few other officers would be heading his way.
After all, a little help wouldn't hurt.
Danny continued to sit and watch the house, until his apprehension and worry became too much. Jumping out of the police car, he shoved open the gate, trudging toward the front door.
"Michael! Are you in there?" He called out as he continued to approach the door. "Michael!"
He reached the front door and knocked loudly.
"C'mon Michael. I know you're in there." Receiving no response, Danny continued to knock harder, at this point beginning to bruise his knuckles. "Michael, don't leave me hanging!"
Still no response. If Danny was worried before, he was absolutely distressed now.
Finally, Danny couldn't take it anymore. Taking a step back, he raised a foot and kicked at the door lock. It gave way on his second kick and Danny shoved it open, quickly rushing inside.
He checked the living rooms, the kitchen and study rooms, before moving down the hallway and checking every bedroom along the way. No sign of Michael in any of them.
This left only one room unsearched at the far end of the hallway: his mother's bedroom. The door to the room was shut and Danny slowly approached it, cautiously placing a hand on the door handle and pushing the door open.
Inside, was Michael, slumped down on the carpet against his mother's bed, silently crying in a puddle of what appeared to be his own urine. His face was pale and gaunt, and there were bags under his tear stained eyes. He looked like he had missed several days of sleep.
On the bed was the frail form of his mother, skin unnaturally pale and shrivelled. From his position by the door frame, Danny took in the scene in front of him, trying to work out what was wrong. He didn't dare approach any of them just yet.
It was only when the gust from the open window blew a foul rotting stench into his nostrils did Danny realize what had happened.
Michael's mother was dead.
Suddenly Danny felt very numb. He looked down at Michael again, and this time he turned his gaze from the wall and looked up at him, allowing Danny a good look into his eyes.
His physical state may have said plenty, but it was his eyes that told the most. Michael wasn't merely a broken man now; he was shattered. His rock had been taken away from him and he was now at the mercy of the storms and waves, tossed about without anything to cling to, slowly drowning under the pressure.
Danny's heart sank at the haunting sight of his blank stare. He was Michael's only hope now. He had no choice but to be his rock. But he had to reach out to him first.
"Lurch…" Danny called out quietly, stepping forward cautiously. In response, Michael quickly scampered back into the far corner of the room, eyes now looking fearfully at him.
"Lurch, please don't…please don't push me away." Danny was beginning to cry himself now. All of his work with Michael had now been undone. The door to his heart had been closed and locked shut, and the key thrown away. If he didn't find a way in soon, he would rot from the inside out, until there was just an empty shell of a man, with nothing left to save.
However, Danny was out of ideas, so he simply opted to stand there, just inside the door and ignoring the stench. He had to be there for Michael.
He was broken out of his thoughts when someone put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Nicholas standing there, in his usual police attire sans sunglasses. Two other officers were behind him, though further down the hallway, stony faced and eyes hidden behind dark aviator shades. Danny hadn't even noticed that they'd arrived.
"Danny…" Nicholas's voice was controlled and even, though slightly croaky. "Leave him be for now."
Hot rage began to flare up inside Danny, overtaking his grief. How could he even say that! Nicholas was the one that taught him the value of connecting with the community. He was the one that taught him to see police work beyond the action. How could he tell him that he should turn his back on a fellow citizen when they needed him most?
Sensing Danny's rage, Nicholas simply patted his shoulder, and tilted his head toward the front door. He didn't want to talk about that here. He turned on his heel, slowly striding past the two officers, and out the front door. Danny waited a while, glaring daggers after him, before doing likewise.
Now hopefully out of earshot of Michael, Nicholas turned to Danny to address him, but was instantly cut off as Danny exploded in rage, yelling so loudly that the few birds sitting on the roof flew off in fright.
"HOW COULD YOU TELL ME TO LEAVE HIM! LOOK AT HIM, HE'S JUST LOST HIS MOM, HE'S SITTING IN HIS OWN PISS, HE'S… HE'S…" Danny was spent now, and broke down into sobbing again.
Nicholas simply let him cry for a while, placing a hand on his shoulder again, with a look of understanding. Only when Danny was through did he continue.
"Danny, I know this is hard for you. Believe me, it's hard for me too. But as much as we try, we can't help everyone. Some people need to be helped in different ways. You can't keep pushing like this."
He paused, sensing Danny's unease, but continued after a while. "You keep pushing like this, and you'll hurt him more. Stay with Michael, but keep your distance for now. That's the best you can do for him right now."
With that, Nicholas dropped his hand from Danny's shoulder, before walking back inside the house, leaving Danny standing alone in his thoughts.
It had been two weeks since the death of Michael's mother.
Officers would take rotations in ensuring Michael was looked after while the processes for resettlement and custody were being worked out back at the station. Michael had no surviving relatives, and Sanford, being a small town which once rid problems like this through murder, was particularly lacking in social support.
For now, Michael was allowed to live in the same home as he had always lived. He was able to care for himself for the most part anyway, so all the officers needed to do was to transport groceries to his house and check on his well-being.
Now it was Danny's turn again. Pulling up alongside the front gate, Danny stepped out and made his way to the front door. Reaching it, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
He didn't need to bring any groceries, as the house was well stocked. He was just there to keep an eye on Michael.
Michael was at his usual place by the dinner table in the living room, aimlessly cutting out pictures from various magazines, newspapers and books. Danny simply sat by the sofa alongside the wall, watching him intently.
Danny hadn't said anything at all since entering the house. He was keeping his distance, like Nicholas said.
Michael continued to aimlessly tear apart the various materials in front of him, content to ignore Danny for the time being. However, he eventually looked up, and his stony gaze locked with Danny. A moment passed before Danny processed what Michael was trying to indicate to him: get out.
Sighing, he reluctantly pushed himself up from the sofa and walked back out the front door, shoulders slumped. Slowly, he plodded back to his police cruiser and slumped back into the driver's seat, leaning the seat back and closing his eyes. His near constant frustration with his helplessness these two weeks was taking a toll on him.
Soon enough, his tiredness overtook his worry, and he drifted off to sleep.
Danny was rudely awoken by rapid tapping on his driver side window.
Blinking away his bleariness, he looked out the window to see the police officer supposed to take the next shift from him. He hadn't realized that he had slept that long.
Reaching for the door handle, he opened it a crack only for it to be wrenched open by the other officer.
"Danny, he's gone!"
Suddenly, Danny was very wide awake. "What!?"
"He's gone. I came here and I couldn't find him anywhere."
Danny's heart fell right through his stomach. He was supposed to watch him, and he had let him down. He had let everyone in the police department down as well.
Charging past the officer, he leapt over the gate and ran as fast as he could to the still open front door. Rushing inside, he frantically looked around for the slightest trace of Michael.
"Lurch, where are you. Lurch! LURCH!" He was starting to sweat profusely now, his mind racing and his heart pumping like a jackhammer.
His gaze swept the dinner table where Michael had been, and the cut-outs left there caught his attention. Danny rushed over to have a better look.
He'd wished he hadn't been so hasty about doing so.
The assorted cut-outs on the table were all of implements of death and destruction: guns, knives, poison needles, hangman nooses...
All placed in a neat circle around a large glossy cut-out of the church building.
Oh no. You wouldn't… Danny charged through the house, practically tearing it apart for Michael.
"LURCH! LURCH! YOU STOP PLAYING GAMES WITH ME NOW! COME OUT NOW!" Danny was yelling himself hoarse at this stage. However, it was beginning to become very clear that Michael wasn't here.
Storming back to the living room, Danny saw the other officer standing by the front door, a look of concern on his face. Barely acknowledging him, he shoved past him on the way out, rushing back to his police cruiser.
"Radio for backup. Tell them to head to the chapel!" Danny yelled out, not bothering to look back at him as he jumped into the driver's seat. He didn't even bother to buckle up as he sped off as fast as he could toward the church.
It was getting quite dark now, with only the light of the full moon illuminating the church.
Michael, standing atop a broken church spire, looked out across the illuminated grassy fields. It was quiet, empty and peaceful as usual on this side of the church and soon, Michael would achieve that same peace.
But only if he could work out the courage to take the plunge.
Michael closed his eyes and scented the fresh, cool breeze against his face. This is what he wanted: Bliss. It would take some pain to get there, but he was a big boy now, and he could take it just fine.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps echoing up the tower to his left. However, he ignored it for the time being, content to absorb the atmosphere around him.
The wooden door to the tower burst open, and Danny rushed out, doubled over and panting hard.
"Lurch, don't do this. Please." Danny pleaded but got no response. "Lurch, can you hear me?"
Still, no response was forthcoming. Michael appeared determined to go through with this. His indifference for his concern hurt more than any "narp" ever could.
Danny was crying now, the tears flowing like a flood. If he couldn't save Michael, then he would see himself as an eternal failure. Michael was a representation of his younger self, and if he went, it would retroactively vindicate the discrimination he had once endured. It would have sent a signal that you were never acceptable as you were: you had to change to be like the others, or die.
In other words, it was one step closer to a return of the reign of the NWA, where nothing but absolute perfection and conformity was required. Danny wasn't prepared to watch his work with Nicholas undone before his eyes; he couldn't live with himself if he did.
"Lurch…" his voice was weaker now, having his energy sapped by his sobbing. "Don't do this."
Once again, no response. The chances of stopping Michael were growing slimmer now. He had to find a new tack. He'd failed him once, and he wouldn't do it again.
Sighing deeply, he walked up to the ledge and climbed up beside him, standing on the edge and looking out over the grassy fields.
"Alright, Lurch. If you want to do this, I won't stop you. But I'm coming with you."
This got Michael's attention. Opening his eyes, he looked down at him quizzically. Danny felt his stare, but didn't look back at him.
"You can't make someone care so much and then leave them like that." Danny said softly. "You and I. We're the same. We need to stick together. If you're going. So am I."
His tone had an air of finality to it. Michael continued to stare down at Danny for a moment, before stepping off the block and slumping down on the roof against it. Slowly, he too started to cry.
Danny stood there on the ledge for a moment, before also stepping backward back onto the roof and walking around to stand in front of Michael.
Their gazes met, and Danny realized that he had found the key to the locked door guarding his heart – the idea that he genuinely mattered to somebody. Not just as a useful hulk of muscle, like in the NWA days, or as a tool to be cynically exploited, but as a human being. Danny had been trying to convey that message to him before, but here, it was made explicit, and even Michael couldn't ignore it anymore.
Through Michael's tears, Danny could see a ghost of a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Michael was happy, and that made him happy too.
He stood there patiently, waiting for Michael to finish crying. When he did, he stepped forward, just like last time, and held out his hand to him.
"Please don't push me away," Danny said. "Please, just let me help you. What do you say, big guy?"
A short pause, as Michael's smile became a toothy grin, and tears started running down his face again. Slowly, he reached out, grasping Danny's hand in his, before responding in the only other way he knew how.
"Yarp."