Turn an Hour

by Cedar

A dangerous turn of events takes Don's control of his career out of his hands.

Turn an Hour

Crimes and Misnomers

I always thought it was funny
that it was called
Daylight Savings Time
because
regardless of how many hours of light
are in a day
the thieves
murderers
arsonists
scum of the earth
will always take greatest advantage of
the night.

Like Clockwork

The fugitive shows up.

I spring forward
and there are shouts of
"EPPES!"
"NO!"
"FUCK!"
"GET DOWN!"
"RUN!"
there are gunshots
in front of me
behind me
the air around me gets hot
then the hot is piercing and pinpointed
and
I fall back.

Luck be a Slight Wind to the Right Tonight

Here is how they say I am lucky:
It could have been an inch to my left.
It could have been my spine.
It could have hit an artery.
It could have
Should have
Would have
Luck was on my side.
In the hospital I think
of Charlie.
I don't remember when we last spoke but
I know if we did
right now
he'd tell me
exactly how lucky I am
only he wouldn't say "lucky"
he'd say "statistically."
Which is maybe why we
don't talk anymore.

All the World's a Stage of Grief

I don't see Billy for two days
but when I do
he
denies that this could happen
is angry that he let me get shot
tells me he's negotiating with our boss
tries to hide his tight voice and fatigue and sadness.

I accept his feelings
and move on.

The Wanting is the Hardest Part

The phone on my bedside table
looks like it weighs
five hundred pounds.
I think about it
picking it up
calling home.
There's no good way
to say
"Hey, Mom
Dad.
I'mfinehowareyou?
The beeping?
Just my heart monitor.
I said I was fine.
Just a bullet.
Just."

I miss them.
I miss
California
and all I left there
to pursue pursuit.

The logical thing would
be to tell Billy
I want out
back to California
or a desk job
back to an address that didn't start
P.O. Box...
to my dad's cooking
a girlfriend.

as far as Billy is concerned he is
my parents
California
my job
my address
my girlfriend
(for want of a better description).

So here we are
me in this bed
him pacing in the hall
getting thrown out for making too much noise
wanting so much
that we can't fulfill for each other
despite our trying
and our lies.

We want ridiculous things
like stability and security and home-cooked meals
focused sharp
scarred by our jobs
each of us pretending
that we don't want
not to want.

Blanketed

I've been in this room
a hundred
thousand
times before.
Mirror over the sink
separate toilet and shower room.
Until now I've been
so conscious
undress in the dark
in the shower room.
Now I've forgotten.
A blizzard outside
(welcome to Wisconsin
in April)
quiets the streets the sidewalks and
Billy figures
that fugitive's not going to get anywhere tonight
unless it's a hospital.
I think he's asleep so I
strip to the waist
take out my razor
focus on my reflection
wet
lather
"Oh my God."

I nick my jaw.

"I'm sorry." Eyes down.
"Don't worry about it." Apply tissue to the wound.
"I…I try to forget, y'know?" Turn away.
"But you can't."
"It's my fault."
"No it isn't."
"That scar didn't come from nowhere."
"I knew" rinse shave
"something like this could happen someday"
rinse shave
"and it's okay."
"It's not okay for my partner to get shot."
shake of his head
vapor trail of cigarette smoke

He says it as though he
is the one who shot me.

The sound of his voice
is the bullet
buried deep
paralyzing burn
knock me out for days.

As the snow
and my thoughts
drift
I think
no, I know
that bullet damaged Billy
much more than me.

Virginia is for Gunshot Survivors

"Quantico?"

It's Billy's voice.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Okay."

"I understand, sir."

"No. I'll do it."

He hangs up the phone.

I have to ask.

"You're going to Quantico?

Why?"

He opens his mouth
but
can't speak
and
I know

"You're not going
to Quantico.

You're sending me there."

He of Little Faith

I confess
I handle the news
poorly.
I
throw things in my bag
shout instead of talk
hate him more than I've hated
anyone (even that sophomore who beat up Charlie when he was ten)

THIS IS ALL ABOUT YOU.
YOU FEEL SO GUILTY THAT I HAVE THIS
(raising my shirt because
I couldn't
let him get away without
facing
my scar
his failures)
THAT YOU'RE SENDING ME
TO QUANTICO
AWAY FROM YOU
LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN YOUR PARTNER
(your mind
your hands
even your heart if you squint at it)
FOR YEARS.

I'M NOT MEANT
TO STAND IN FRONT OF A FUCKING CLASSROOM
TEACHING
NOT CATCHING FUGITIVES
WHICH
NEED I REMIND YOU
I AM DAMN GOOD AT.

I AM MEANT...

i am meant
to be
outside
running
driving

waiting
searching

with

you.

Spring Forward

and I have lost

my mother
my girlfriend
my job status
my townhouse in New Mexico

but gained

my father
my brother
Terry Lake
(maybe I should try a dating service)
a new team
some perspective.

When Billy shows up
I can only

forgive him.

I know
he did for me what I would do
for my father
for my brother
for Terry
for David:

protect them
only not too much.

Then
he offers Fugitive Recovery.

I like familiarity.

nights spent in cars
surviving on coffee and cigarettes
reclaiming Billy as
my mind
my hands
even my heart, no squinting needed

Then

I feel the weight
of my keys in my pocket
of the knowledge that Charlie led us to this fugitive
of the shadow of the Los Angeles office over me
of my dad and the house and my mom's ghost.

The scar on my back tingles
like it recognizes Billy.

I say no.

He asks
if I'm sure.

How can I ever be sure?

But I say yes
yes I'm sure
yes I want to stay yes

I have sprung too far forward
to allow myself
to fall so far back.

---
end