Another Christmas, Another Story
It was Christmas Eve, again, snow diving from the sky, fixating itself to the ground where it chose to land. The cold air whistling it's way through the trees and the tall buildings. A mid-thirties, good-looking, athletic and tired man sat alone on a park bench, head bowed, ignoring the laughing children throwing dirt and snow at one another. Walla Walla in the Great State of Washington looked damp and dreary that morning through his eyes. Controversy through the eyes of the young lad across the other side of the park it was a bright mystical Haven filled with adventure and wonderment.
"Hey" said the tired man on the bench "…this is my story not that dirty kids" He looked backed down. The voice belonged to a troubled man. John McLane. He clenched his paper bag covered bottle and took a swig. Head deep in thought.
"Stuck in Walla Walla," he thought to himself. I can't go back to New York or Los Angeles anyway. An ex-wife and a reputation had forced him to migrate to Washington. His children had grown up so fast too… had their own jobs, own lives, own family.
John took another drink, longer this time, quenching a non-existing thirst. He stared at his unshaven reflection in his badge. Uttering a sigh he put the badge in his wallet, wallet in the pocket-of his black over-coat. He took another drink, his eyes darted to the side watching a figure walk towards him confidently from the other side of the road.
"Right that's me" said the young man as he shortened the three feet between them and stopped "done and dusted"
"Good" uttered McLane with a smile "Lets get back on duty now" He stood up with a groan. "I don't know why you buy those things anyway, son, you'll never win the lottery" he gave a forceful chuckle as they both moved towards the unmarked police car.
"Not never just, you know, there's always that chance" he laughed too, more to hide his embarrassment than the humour. Mike took a look at his partner over the hood of the car. "you're drinking the brew again aren't you" he said forcefully staring at the paper bag.
McClane looked at the bottle, and then back at Mike.
"Just a quick one" He said, laughing "shut up and drive" he said with a smile. A little joke they played on each other, Mclane, a recovering alcoholic, took it more lightly than he should have. They both knew it was a fruit drink he was drinking.
They got in the car and exhaled. Clutching together their hands to escape the cold.
A Hiss and scramble came from the radio. "Detective Mclane, Detective Scott, come in please"
"This is detective Mclane"
"Yeah, em…John….You wanna come down to headquarters,…we got a situation you wanna take a look at!"