Let me tells ya, bein' a cop ain't easy. You got your homicides, drug busts, and drunk drivers. But the one thing a cop like me has a hard time goin' through is kidnappings. Especially when they involve children.
I remember it like it was just yesterday when my partner and I were parked in an alley, waitin' for some stupid ass punk to go speeding' by. To pass the time, the two of us would usually crack jokes about our wives, people watch, and sing along to the car radio whenever we hear a song we know.
It was about 3:38 when a series of events occurred that still haunt me thirty-six years later…
"Let me tell you Mark, this has got to be the most boring stakeout EVER!"
"Oh come on Sam, lighten up. Sure there hasn't been any action today, that's a good thing. People in this town are actually respecting the law."
"Mark you groovy dog you always know how to cheer me up."
"Hey are there any donuts left?"
"Ooh sorry bro, had the last one."
"Damn, and it was sprinkled too. Hey look Sam, look over there, across the street!"
Across the street from us was what looked like a young Gumballian, possibly 8 or 9. You didn't see many Gumballians in this town before. Sure they were walking talking gumball machines, but they were living beings and had every right us humans had.
We assumed he was heading over to the town's park. There was a Bicentennial Year barbeque taking place there and everyone was invited. Everyone but us apparently. We were stuck on stakeout duty for at least three hours. Then it happened.
"Aww, Sam that is the cutest Gumballian I've seen in a while. Bet he's going to the barbeque?"
"Mark, for the love of God, concentrate! We don't need to be getting distracted!"
"Fine, fine. Killjoy"
"That's it! Why I oughta…"
"Wait! Look! Who's that?"
"Its probably a friend of his."
Boy were we wrong. You don't normally see someone wearing a trench coat in July, but apparently there was. He was walking behind the young gumball machine with this weird look on his face. Before we could get a better look, he wrapped the trench coat around the Gumballian and literally sped off.
"Holy shit! Mark, step on it!
"On it!"
It was a very short chase. We apparently chased him onto Marin Court before he hopped on a red motorcycle and managed to escape.
"Dammit! We almost had him!"
"Well what are you waiting for? Follow him!"
We chased him for what felt like hours. Mark finally gave up when we reached a dead end.
"Ugh, I'm giving up. Come on Sam, let's go to the barbeque."
"Hey! Mark, as police officers we will never give up! We will find this kid, return him to his family and walk away with proud looks on our faces."
"Fine. You sure know how to change a guy's mind around."
As he was giving that compliment, I noticed some tire marks on the road. Not from us, but the kidnapper. The fucker faked us out. He escaped onto Hamill Drive, the creepiest part of town.
"Figures he lives around here. This street creeps me out.
"Focus Sam, he's gotta be around here somewhere."
"Look! There's the motorcycle!"
The motorcycle was parked in front of an abandoned bungalow. Paint was peeling everywhere and looked like it hadn't been touched up since the '40s. I guess 30 years without a paintjob will do that to ya house. And don't get me started on the lawn, I mean savannah. That grass was as tall as Kareem Abdul- Jabbar. Thank God for the path up to the front door. Oh I'm sorry. I tend to ramble on at my age…
"Okay, here's the plan. We kick that door down and search the area. I'll search for the kid, you go after the perp. Then we'll meet back at the front door. Got that?"
"Wait Sam, what if he's armed?
"You idiot, you have a gun. If he tries to use it, use yours!"
"Oh right. Okay, let's go. Uhh… Sam, the door's rusted shut."
"Well how can that be? How would the kidnapper get inside?"
"I don't know, how about that obviously broken window?"
"Jeez, Sam, no need to be sarcastic."
"Can we just go in already? I'll use my gun to break open the door!"
*BAM*
"There. Problem solved."
We opened the door. The place was just as bad as the outside. You remember those run down buildings that were in almost every cheesy horror film? Imagine that ten times as cheesy. You couldn't take one step without the floor making this creaking noise.
He probably knew we were in the house. We kept hearing this muffled sobbing noise coming from what was probably a basement. The kid. We had our guns locked and loaded and searched the house for the kidnapper.
"He probably knows we're here. Keep sharp and look for anything suspicious. I'll get the kid."
"Roger that, Sam."
I located the door that led to the basement while Mark went down the main hallway of the house. I turned on my flashlight and carefully walked down the damp and dark stairway. Every step I took I the sound of the kid kept getting louder. At the bottom of the staircase I found a rusted metal door. From the looks of it, it was apparently a storage room for wine. I opened the door.
"Hello? Kid? Are you in here? I saw you out by the HOLY SHIT!"
I found the kid alright. I saw him in there. And at the time, I wish I didn't. He was chained to a metal stake in the wall. Not only was he blindfolded, but a piece of cloth was tied around his mouth. And judging from the color in one place, his mouth was bleeding. Also, there were a few cracks in the glass dome that is his head. And to top it all off, scratches littered his whole body, indicating he was struggling. I had to get him out of there. Fast. I lifted the blindfold. Black eye.
"Hey hey… its okay kid, you're safe now. I'm a cop."
At first he was scared, letting out small muffled cries, but as soon as he saw my uniform, he calmed down.
"You're in safe hands. Its gonna be okay. Here let me get that."
As I pulled down the gag, I was horrified to discover some of his teeth were pulled. I choked from the sight of it. He got scared again. I swear that whimpering still pulls at my heartstrings.
"Hey, don't get scared. I'm gonna get you out of this. You got a name kid?"
"B-Benson."
Poor kid went through tremendous amounts of torture. After a few tries, I managed to break the chain with a crowbar I found in a nearby closet. I picked the shivering Benson up and managed to carry him up the stairs and out of the house with little difficulty. I took out the first-aid kit from the boot of the car and patched him up.
"Here Benson, you rest in the back. We'll get you to a hospital and alert your parents. I'll be right back, okay?"
"O-Okay."
I could tell he was still shaken up from the whole ordeal. Just as I was turning around, Mark had returned.
"Hey Sam, I did a whole search of the place. Nothing. He must've used a secret exit or something, I don't know."
"Mark, I want you to say hi to Benson. I found him in the basement."
"Well hey there Benson, you're very lucky that we happened to be close by."
"Hi… and t-thank you."
So we drove him to the hospital where he made a full recovery after a few weeks of treatment. While he was most likely scarred from the incident, I was sure he'd forget it in a few years.
A few weeks following we found the guy hiding in some place called Lolliland. I'm not sure where that is, but from what I've heard, its pretty far. Mark and I haven't seen him ever since he was released back to his parents. And from what I've heard, he's now the manager of that park we were staking out. So that's how I met that boss of yours.
"Whoa." Mordecai gasped, in complete shock from the story the officer across the table had told him, while Rigby and Thomas just sat there with there mouths wide open.
"Yeah, that's my story. I hope I didn't bore you or anything." Sam chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.
"I had no idea…" Thomas said, still trying to accept the fact his new boss had a troubled past.
"Well its all a matter of being the right place at the right time." Sam said.
Before Rigby could add anything to the conversation, Benson walked into the coffee shop, looking rather frantic.
"Oh Mordecai, Rigby, Thomas, thank goodness I found you guys. Mr. Maellard just called and is coming for a park inspection. We need to get back to the park now." Benson said with a stern look on his face.
"Well Benson, long time no see. You do remember me, right?" Sam chuckled.
"I'm terribly sorry officer, I've got a lot on me right now. Maybe I can talk later." Benson apologized.
"Benson, its me. Officer Sam Carmichael. I'm sorry Mark isn't here, he retired and moved to Los Angeles. I saved you when you were kidnapped back in '76." Sam explained.
Immediately Benson froze in his tracks, speechless. That's all Sam needed to get up and wrapped his arms around the Gumballian for the first time in 36 years.