Somewhere along I-80 west of Sacramento
Mike had plenty to think about during his two hour drive to Sacramento. Top of mind, of course, was his partner. Up until Connie's death, he felt very close to Steve. In the past three years, as Mike served as a mentor to the young man, the relationship became a two-way street. Mike grew to respect the detective and trusted him with his life. He viewed him as a very dear friend and, if truth be told, as family.
Yet, now, Steve ostensibly abandoned all that was his present life. If what his sister said was true, his spirit was lost and he no longer cared. That struck Mike deeply. On more than one occasion, Mike mentioned the reason why he picked Steve to be his partner. It was simply because he cared. If he lost that ability, he understood Maya's meaning: he certainly would not be the same person.
Almost from the beginning, they worked well together. Sure, sometimes Steve bristled at Mike's inability to work reasonable hours. It was not uncommon for the senior detective to show up at the crack of dawn at his partner's door to get 'a head start'. He would think nothing of interrupting Steve on a dinner date with a young woman so they could go interview a suspect.
But Steve had his way to pay back Mike for those interruptions. His trick of stashing the phone into the refrigerator in order to silence the ringing was well known. And if a dinner date would likely end up becoming a breakfast date, so to speak, Steve more often than not stayed at the girl's apartment and not the other way around.
Mike chuckled at the thought until he remembered Connie. Connie was the exception since she still lived with her parents. Over the past year, on and off, Connie was a fixture at Steve's apartment.
Mike saddened at the memory. If her memory troubled Mike so, he could imagine how Steve must be feeling now.
SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF
Mattie's, in Sacramento
"Mike…thank you for meeting me," Maya smiled warmly at the officer as she leaned back in the booth at the diner. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Sure thing," and Maya turned to signal the waitress.
"So what's our boy doing today?" Mike inquired. "What's a typical day for him lately?"
"He was in bed when I left around 8am. He's probably there yet since it's still morning," she commented as she rolled her eyes. "It's not that it bothers me. He's worked hard through the years and he's been through a lot, so he's entitled to a rest."
"Does he talk much about what happened?"
"At first he did. At first he was so much like the little brother I remember. He'll always be my "Stevie"," Maya said as Mike smiled at the comment. There was something engaging about Maya. She was mature and confident with a pleasant demeanor.
She continued, "He opened up quite a bit about it. We spent the first few days back just hanging around the house talking about what had happened over the last year. He told me a lot about Connie and how their relationship had been on and off and then back on. He'd talk about how he realized he was in love with her and how badly he felt that he couldn't stop her from getting killed. That troubled him so."
"He blames himself still?" Mike asked.
"I think so. You see after a few days, he just stopped talking about it. Then, one of his buddies came over and they went out drinking one night. Ever since then, that's become his routine. Sometimes they go play ball somewhere or hook up with other friends, then they'll hit a bar or two. I have no idea what they do after that, but Steve doesn't get home until sunlight. Then he goes to bed."
"Does he talk about anything at all?"
"Not really. The friend - his name is Randy - he comes over in the afternoon and talks for the both of them."
"Does he mentioned anything about returning to San Francisco?"
"No, if anything he's talking about going back east. We were born in Connecticut and mama's buried there. He's talking about going back to see what's changed. I think he just wants to go away."
"That's disappointing. If he had something he was going towards, maybe I'd understand it. I wouldn't like it, but I'd understand it," Mike commented.
"I agree. Mike, there's one thing that bothers me more, though," Maya began.
"What's that?"
"You may not realize it, but Steve and I normally attend church together when he's home. We go on Sundays and sometimes Wednesday nights. He's yet to go with me since he's come back."
"I've not known Steve to be much of a churchgoer in San Francisco. Most young people these days aren't. For him not to go right now, do you think that's really a sign of something wrong?"
"Our church is very unique. It's a mountain church - very rural. Each service is very intimate and personal. There's a bit of soul bearing that goes on every time. I don't think Steve has found anything comparable in San Francisco, so I'm not surprised that he doesn't go while he's there."
Mike nodded his head, but still couldn't begin to imagine Steve at any church setting, let alone one so fundamental. Not that there was anything wrong with that. In fact, he'd be delighted. But the thought struck Mike: could he have misjudged Steve? Mike, a devout and lifelong Catholic, had been bothered that the 'kids today' seemed to shun tradition and with that, abandon their religious beliefs. Perhaps he had been too quick to categorize Steve that way.
"What has he said about church, then?" Mike was curious.
"Only that he's too tired. But understand, when Steve normally comes home, he goes out with Randy or other friends. They do stupid things and stay out late. Steve is always ready come Sunday morning to go with me."
"What type of church is it? I'm curious."
"It's non-denominational Christian, but it would remind you of the 'old timey' churches that do the tent revivals. We've even been known to pass a copperhead a time or two," she said with a wink.
Mike sat silently for a moment with a slight smile on his face. "Maya, that's the thing about your brother I do so admire. He never stops surprising me."
"Mike, it shouldn't surprise you at all," Maya smiled as Mike looked puzzled.
"You see, Steve has told me how devout you are. He has also told me that you have compassion for your fellow citizens - enough to fill that Bay where you live," Mike smiled at the comment.
"My brother says that you have a natural optimism - and that you 'have to have' that optimism or otherwise you could end up hardened and cynical…or worse…you could cross the line, have a breakdown, or Lord knows what."
Mike nodded slowly as Maya continued. "What do you think underscores your optimism?"
"I don't know, but I have a feeling you are going to tell me," Mike smiled.
"It's your faith," she said proudly as she waited for Mike to react.. "Am I not right on this? Your faith is what allows you to keep your head. It keeps your trust in humanity. And it provided you the ability to care."
Mike was silent at her observation. She was right and he didn't have to think twice about it. Apparently, Steve wasn't the only smart 'Keller' in the family. He broadened his smile. "Yes, Maya, you are right."
"Then think about my brother. I love him dearly and generally, he's a sweet kid. But sometimes he can be an arrogant jerk and an all around knucklehead. He's even been known to raise some hell," she whispered the last words as Mike kept a spirited 'amen' to himself. "But he has that same optimism and that same caring quality, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he does," Mike was now solemn.
"Where do you think he gets it?"
"I don't know. I have to be honest and tell you that I have actually wondered that same question before. He's an exceptional young man. I know he's intelligent, but there's something more to him. He's all that you are saying."
"It's from his faith. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not so single minded to tell you that our faith is the only way to have compassion and care about people. I know other people have different ways to get there. But for him, this has been the way. The message he has received from that little church up in the mountains and the upbringing he's had by some very kind-hearted people - that's what's given him his caring nature. And that's what I'm afraid is lost."
She continued. "Mike, I didn't ask you to come here because you're a cop or because you're his friend. I asked you here because I thought you could see the connection between what he is and his faith. That's what I want him to get back."
"Maya, you've enlightened me in ways that I never would have expected today. I'll do what I can. What do you think we should do?"
