PART 7
"I din't say thanks," Rico said once Cooper had retrieved another beer and returned to the living room. "So thanks. I 'preciate what you did."
Cooper grunted, drank down half the bottle in one. "You got dried blood all over your face. Bathroom's on the right at the top of the stairs. I'll be in the kitchen."
He could hear the kid's heavy footsteps thumping around upstairs as he searched the refrigerator for anything a teenager was likely to eat. Rico returned at an easy jog, his face scrubbed clean to reveal the deep bruising, although he didn't seem fazed by it.
"Can I sit out in the back yard?" he asked. "It's hot as hell in here."
"Go for it." Cooper unlocked the back door, led the way out. "The cactus bites, be warned."
Rico wasn't interested in plants; he'd spotted something he liked the look of. "Man, you got a pool!" His eyes lit up with sheer childish glee when he saw the glistening water.
Cooper couldn't help but smile at the kid's delight. "What, you never seen a pool before?"
"Where you think I get the money to go swim? Closest I get to a pool is when we set the fire hydrants off in the street."
Cooper was amused. He regarded the teenager for a moment. "Go ahead, then."
Rico gave him the suspicious eye for a split second. Then the huge sneakers were kicked off, the baggy tee was thrown to the grass but he didn't waste time unbuttoning his jeans. Chocolate-brown planes of lean, hard muscle rippled as he broke into a sprint, hurled himself into the air. Splashed down into the water with a howl of pure joy.
He swam for over an hour, leaping in and out of the pool like a young child. Cooper retreated to the kitchen, threw together a lasagne big enough to satisfy even a hungry teenager's appetite. He liked to cook; it slowed down his thought process, relaxed him without him even noticing.
It was a hot evening and the setting sun had turned a fiery orange over the LA hills. When Cooper stepped out into the back yard, Rico was sat on the edge of the pool, gazing up at the sunset.
"Looks good, huh?" Cooper said.
"Never watched no sunset before," the kid said.
Cooper opened his mouth to ask if he was serious, but the appreciation shining in the boy's eyes convinced him that he was not playing. He set the food down on the outdoor table, saw Rico's nostrils flare at the smell.
"You like lasagne?" he asked.
"Man, I like anythin' smells dat good." Rico scrambled to his feet, the glistening droplets making his long torso shine already starting to dry in the heat. A homemade tattoo, a blue-inked pitbull, stood out on the curve of muscle jutting from his left shoulder. He jogged over to the table, wet jeans hanging low on his narrow hips.
"Go ahead." Cooper saw him hesitate as he slid into one of the metal chairs, remembering some vestige of manners his grandmother must have taught him.
Within seconds the boy had piled his plate and was shovelling food into his mouth as if he expected it to be snatched away from him any moment. When he saw Cooper calmly forking salad, he finally slowed down.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Don't have to apologise."
They ate in silence until Rico started on his second plateful.
"You played football in high school, right?" he asked.
"Yep."
"Where'd you go?"
"Dorsey. In the days when you were lucky if you got through every day without blood gettin' spilt."
"Shit, man, Dorsey some mean place. Awesome football school though, right?"
"Yeah, playin' football was the only way to stay alive without gettin' mixed up in the gangs."
"You never banged, Coop?"
"Nah, wasn't my style. I liked to do things my own way."
"You get in trouble at school?"
"Every frickin' week. I liked to fight." Cooper shrugged. "Everybody stopped callin' me out once they realised I could knock the shit outta them."
"You pretty brave, huh?"
Cooper shrugged. "There's not much scares me."
"And if people need help, you gonna try save 'em."
Cooper gave momentary consideration to the uncompromising statement. "If I can, yeah."
"You figure you can help me, right? Cos you tryin' to save me."
"That what you think I'm doing?"
Rico made eye contact, nodded.
"How'd you feel about that?" Cooper asked.
A moment's silence. "Good, I guess." A cheeky grin. "Yo, if I don't get put outta class next week, do I get to see the Raiders again?"
Cooper chuckled. "How much money you think cops make? Two weeks of good behaviour and I'll get tickets for USC."
"Man, dat's harsh. Two whole weeks?"
"Take it or leave it, hotshot."
Rico grinned widely and for a moment, once again looked like the talkative, polite kid who had been grateful to Cooper for buying him a burger.
"You got a wife or anythin'?"
"Divorced."
"Kids?"
"Nope."
"So you got this big ol' house all to yo'self?"
"Yep."
"Man, if I ever had this much space to call ma own, swear I'd be so fuckin' happy."
"Maybe you will one day, if you make the NFL."
"I got a letter. From UCLA. Said they liked ma last game." A smile that was both proud and shy at the same time. "Couldn't believe some coach came to watch me play."
"Thought you weren't interested in college. The Avalons is your future, remember."
An awkward shrug. "Don't mean I can't still dream."
"Why not make it more than a dream?"
"You know why."
"Rico, when I first met you, you were a really good kid. I didn't think you'd turn out to be a banger."
"Everyone gotta survive somehow, man. After I got taken to that first group home, when I got beat up, I decided then no one was gonna beat on me ever again. So I started fightin' back. The homeboys noticed me pretty fast."
Cooper sought the boy's eye contact, managed to secure it. "Why don't you get out, kid?"
"C'mon, Coop, you ain't dumb. You know it don't work like that." Rico shook his head. "Let it go, a'ight."
They lapsed into silence. Cooper stood up to take the dishes back inside; Rico seized the plates before he could and ferried them to the dishwasher. Hiding a smile, Cooper went to pull the ice cream out of the freezer.
Rico waited until they were settled in the yard again, until he had seized his spoon and attacked the mint choc chip.
"Yo, you said when you first met me, you was too messed up to help me. What was goin' on wid you?"
Cooper looked up sharply, surprised by the question. Blew out a long breath, drank another mouthful of beer.
"You don't gotta tell me if you don't want," Rico said hastily. "Some stuff gotta be private, huh?"
"No, it's okay." Cooper shook his head. "No reason to hide it. I was taking drugs."
"Drugs?" Rico's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"Not like heroin or crack. Prescription drugs. Painkillers, strong ones. I'd messed up my back and I was struggling with the pain, so I started taking this stuff and eventually I built up a tolerance to it. Ended up almost OD'ing every day just so I could get outta bed and go to work."
"You were takin' that stuff when you met me?"
"Yeah, and it was pretty bad. But it got worse after that. Ben got me out of it eventually, got me into rehab and surgery. I bounced back."
"That's good, huh? Not many people come back." Rico's gaze was unflinching. "An' you don't take nothin' now, right?"
"Only beer and whisky," Cooper grinned.
"Your back don't hurt no more?"
"Gets sore sometimes." Cooper was amused by the kid's questions. "Go check the bathroom cabinet, Detective. I don't even take ibuprofen for it."
The suspicion in Rico's eyes faded. "My mom always used to say she was gonna get clean, when I was a lil kid. I stopped believin' her pretty fast."
"Have I lied to you yet?"
"Nope," Rico said without hesitation.
"Then I ain't gonna start now." Cooper stretched, regarded the remains of his beer. "You want a ride home?"
Rico shook his head. "Don't wanna go home." He tilted his head up at the velvety night sky. "Never been in a place so quiet as this. You can see the stars an' everything. Like a different world or somethin'. I don't wanna go back to all the yellin' an' shootin' an' shit."
"Can't avoid it forever, kid."
"Feels safe here. Like you can jus' chill and not worry 'bout nothin'."
Cooper sighed softly, gazed into his bottle as he thought through his next move. "All right, you can sleep here tonight. Only tonight. You hear me?"
"Don't worry, cuz, I ain't movin' in."
"Damn right you're not."
Rico's lips jerked in an embarrassed smile. "You a good guy, Coop," he said quietly.
"You won't be saying that when I drag you outta bed at 6am and make you go to school."
X X X
The teenager ended up sleeping on the couch. He'd succumbed to slumber before the DVD of Any Given Sunday had ended and Cooper hadn't had the heart to wake him. He figured the couch was probably more comfortable than the kid's bed at home anyway.
It was 5.30am when the alarm rudely shook Cooper from sleep. He stumbled around the bathroom, noticing even in the haze of tiredness that Rico had left it spotless after his clean-up. Handfuls of cold water finally banished the remnants of sleep and Cooper lumbered downstairs in pursuit of coffee.
Rico hadn't stirred, wrapped in a blanket and sprawled on his back across the width of the sofa. With his face relaxed, despite the bruising, he looked like any other teenage kid. In no way did he appear a dangerous baby banger. If Sammy Bryant could have seen the boy at that moment, he may have understood why Cooper was so determined to help him.
"Rico," Cooper called as he headed into the kitchen. "Time to go, kid."
It took four more shouts before the kid finally stirred, and a further two at increasing volume before he got off the couch and joined Cooper in the kitchen.
"You drink coffee?"
Rico shook his head. "Juice, please," he mumbled, eyes still half closed.
"Wow, a please. That's impressive at this time in the morning."
"You go to work at this time?"
"Gym first; I didn't work out yesterday. You wanna come?"
Interest immediately sparked in the sleep-heavy eyes. "Yeah, sure."
"Then I'm driving you to school."
"You gonna drop me off round the block, right?"
"I was planning on walking you right through the doors."
"Cuz, you gonna get me killed."
"You're gonna end up getting killed if you run the streets instead of goin' to school."
"I'll go, I swear. Just don't walk me in."
"Can I trust you not to take off?"
"Hell yeah."
Cooper was amused. "You think 'cos I'm white I'm stupid?"
"Coop, dis ain't never about race. You ain't white, black or brown. You blue. Dat's what's the real dif'rence 'tween us."
Cooper gave his infamous half-smile. Drained his coffee cup and grabbed the car keys.
"Nah, kid. The real difference between us is my gang's eventually gonna win every war it's fighting."
X X X
"Is it true?" Tang asked.
"Huh?" Cooper, at the wheel, wasn't paying much attention.
"That you took your little homeboy to work out this morning?"
"How'd you know that?"
"Martinez saw you at the gym; the guys were all talking about it before roll call."
"So what?"
"So he must have stayed at your place if he was with you that early."
"So what?" Cooper repeated, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Did you check all your guns were accounted for before you left?"
"Jesus Christ, Jessica, you on the rag or something?" Cooper didn't normally resort to such slurs, preferred to leave that sort of stuff to Dewey, but Tang was riling him.
"Thought you said you weren't adopting him," Tang persisted.
"Thought you were a cop, not a slapdick."
He saw Tang's jaw tighten in frustration and she fell silent. She was still not talking two hours later, when Cooper bought a call for unknown trouble at the Green Meadows rec centre.
A group of black teenagers had gathered on the small stand of bleachers, drinking beer and smoking weed as they enjoyed the early evening sunlight. They were rowdy and loud but they didn't seem to be causing any particular problem until they caught sight of the black-and-white. Then they were up on their feet, hurling bottles and cans at the car.
"Knock it off!" Cooper roared out of the window as he pulled to a halt on the opposite side of the street.
Tang was already on her personal radio, requesting backup, but Cooper wasn't intimidated by a few kids and was out of the car, hand on his baton. The missiles were still coming but they were flying far enough wide for him to be sure they were not actually aiming to hit him.
"Do I seriously need to get four cars out here for you dipshits?" he yelled.
"We just hangin', homie," someone hollered.
"Quit throwing shit, then."
The flying objects ceased but Cooper had been distracted by another group of teenagers approaching down East 88th. He saw them stop abruptly when they spotted the cruiser, most of them immediately turning and ambling back off in the opposite direction. Only two remained and somehow Cooper wasn't surprised to see one was Rico. He was kept company by another teenager, built like a linesman, partway between flab and solid muscle.
"You involved in this?" Cooper demanded, moving closer to them.
"No."
"Then get the hell away from here."
A grin softened Rico's face. "Yessir, Officer Coop."
The big guy crossed his arms across his barrel chest. "Hey homes, how the fuck you know this guy's name?"
"Dude, everyone around here knows Coop. He da man in these parts." Rico was laughing now, relaxed.
"The fuck he is." The big guy scowled. "Looks like a pussy to me."
"What you say, homes?" Rico's features hardened instantly.
"Hell's gotten into you, cuz?"
"You don't talk 'bout him like dat. He cool, a'ight?"
"He po-po."
"Don't matter. Coop's golden. You hearin' what I'm sayin', homes?"
"What da hell, man?"
"Cuz, jus' go wait for me back at the yard." Rico's voice brooked no argument and even though the other boy was significantly bigger, he flashed their sign and ambled away around the block.
"C'mere," Cooper said grimly to Rico.
"I din't do nothin'."
"Then what you hangin' around here for?"
"To see if you gonna shoot any of da homeboys."
"You used to think me shooting gangsters was cool."
"Times change, homie."
"You shot anybody yet?"
A defensive shrug, no response.
Cooper checked no one was within hearing distance, dropped his voice. "Look, Rico, I still remember that little kid who hugged me so hard I thought I'd never get him to let go."
"'Cos you were the first person in a long time who actually seemed to give a shit about me. I felt safe with you; I din't want to walk away from dat." Rico shook his head, his own words now becoming a whisper. "You seemed like the biggest, strongest guy in the world that day."
"And now I just seem like some cop who buys you food?"
"No!" The denial was quick and sharp. "No, man, you know I don't think dat. I promised you I'd stay in school today and I did. Dat doesn't show you I respect you?"
"But an hour after practice you're runnin' the streets again."
"I gotta make money, Coop! Pharell got doctor bills, his medication gonna have to be refilled at the end o' the month. How I gonna pay for all dat if I stay home?"
"How about you ask me?"
"I don' want yo' money. I ain't hangin' wid you for that, if dat's what you think."
"It isn't."
"Then don't say dat again, man. I don't like it."
"I'm not trying to insult you."
"I know. But still, don't be sayin' shit like dat."
Cooper nodded his understanding. Glanced back at Tang, who was leaning against the cruiser, arms crossed, trying her best to listen into the quiet conversation.
"Get outta here, kid," he said quietly. "I'll catch you later."
Rico hesitated a moment, then held out his knuckles for a fist bump. Jogged away towards the Gardens and was lost from view.
"Any plans for that bunch?" Tang asked sarcastically, indicating the group on the bleachers.
Cooper turned back to the car, pulling the keys free from his belt. The teenagers had quietened down, run out of beer and of missiles.
"They're kids. Let them have some fun."
X X X
An hour before the end of watch, another unknown trouble call for the rec centre. Cooper ignored the first radio announcement, hoping someone else would buy it. On the repeat, he gave up, accepted this wasn't going to be his day, and announced they would be attending.
This time there wasn't a crowd. Just three figures, hands extended as they exchanged goods. Cooper and Tang remained inside the cruiser, watched as business was completed and the three sauntered off in different directions. The seller exited the rec park, ambled down East 89th, then broke into a jog and ducked down one of the alleys.
Cooper pulled the car quietly forward towards the alley entrance. Slammed on the brakes as he heard gunshots ripping through the still air.
"Shit," he hissed, scrambling out of the car, snatching his weapon.
A second later the seller was sprinting back out of the alley, almost running smack into the two cops. Cooper roared a much worse expletive as the suspect juked sharply, trying to cut around them, and knocked his navy ball cap off in the process.
Cooper lunged, ending the chance of escape. Grabbed the front of Rico's shirt, slammed his back up against the wall. The teenager may have been well-grown but he didn't stand a chance against Cooper's brute strength and he was lifted clean off his feet. Held a foot off the ground, pinned against the brick.
"Coop, man!" he hollered.
"Shut the fuck up and answer me. Was it you firing the shots?"
"Naw! Let me down, man!"
Cooper tightened his grip, pressed harder.
"Coop, I ain't got no gun! I din't fire, swear to God! Put me down!"
Cooper held him for several more seconds, just to prove he was firmly in control. Bigger and stronger and more than ready to demonstrate the fact. Then he set him back down and released his grip.
"Turn around and spread." He said it quietly but the steel in his voice prevented any protest from Rico. The kid faced the wall, placed his palms flat, spread his legs. Waited, rigid, breathing hard.
It took all of ten seconds for Cooper to find the baggie of pills secreted in the oversize jeans.
"You fuckin' idiot," he growled.
"It's jus' Special K, man."
"Read the fuckin' newspapers, numbnuts. Ketamine's a Schedule I substance now."
"There's only two in there, Coop!"
"'Cos you already sold the rest!"
"Can't nobody prove that! No way the DA's gonna give me a charge for two pills!"
Cooper tossed the baggie to Tang, pulled free his cuffs. Seized Rico's arms and hooked him up.
"Coop…"
"Do I look like I give a shit what you got to say?"
Cooper hauled him to the car, shoved him roughly into the back. Closed the door hard. Refused to the look at the kid's face. Refused to see the expression of fury and betrayal.
X X X
He left Tang to handle the paperwork. Rico would be processed at Hollywood but he would be booked at the juvenile hall, released when his social worker bothered to show up. Cooper would not be there when he was free to go.
He went and sat in the empty locker room. Dropped his head into his hands, thought through what he had just done. Rico wouldn't take a charge on so few pills; he wouldn't spend the night in jail and he wouldn't have yet another line added to his record. Cooper had not acted out of anger; his actions had been deliberate. Rico had disrespected him by returning to deal at a location Cooper had attended so recently. Cooper would not stand for that; he couldn't.
But now what? Where did they go from here? In proving his hard-ass reputation, Cooper knew he had fractured the fragile bonds between him and the young banger. But what choice had he had? He couldn't let the kid get away with that shit. Rico had to understand he didn't run the show.
But that didn't make Cooper feel any better about what he had just done.
