A/N: You'll all be happy to know (or maybe not) that this is finally a completed work. Let me know if you think I should keep pacing them out or put them all up at once. Also I've been told that my writing fizzles out as I get near the end of a story. I worked really hard to ensure that isn't the case here but if they do - my deepest apologies.


May 29, 1989

I'm glad I got all that out yesterday, because today was overwhelming all on its own.

I don't know why - nothing disastrous happened - but right now I feel like a bundle of nerves. I don't mean the kind of nervous energy where you just have to do something - anything - to get rid of it. I mean the kind where if someone dropped a spoon or tapped you on the shoulder, you'd probably pitch a fit. That kind of nerves.

And I can't explain why. There's just so much going on in my head, what with rehashing everything yesterday and then today... It's like my brain is at maximum capacity.

I'm going to write it all down, but first I need to get some sleep - if my brain will shut up.


June 18, 1989

I meant to get back to this, but what with having to make up almost a month of schoolwork and doing finals and all, I just didn't have time. I'm done all that now, though, so I can get on with it.

May 29th was Memorial Day and for the first time in a long time, I went to the service with Uncle Pete. For the first time ever, Mom and Mike came with us. What made it triply (is that a word?) special was that Uncle Pete brought his friend Roy, and Roy brought his old partner. We made quite a group.

I won't go into the details of the ceremony because the most important part for me came after it was over. Uncle Pete went off to one side to talk to Roy and his friend while me, Mom and Mike stood around waiting. A few women came up and started talking to Mom - telling her it was good to see her and asking how she was doing and stuff. Mom was really polite and everything but she looked uncomfortable. After a minute or so Uncle Pete came up and told the other women that he needed to talk to Mom and dragged her off. I could tell she was relieved - at first. Whatever Uncle Pete was saying to her started making her angry. I didn't know then what they were talking about but I could tell it had something to do with me or Mike because they both kept looking in our direction.

Eventually Mom turned away from Uncle Pete and walked back to us. He just stood there watching. Mom said we were going home and Uncle Pete shook his head. I wanted to know what they were talking about but I didn't want to start an argument so I didn't say anything. Did I mention Mike's lack of diplomacy? The kid is totally tactless and has no problems stirring up trouble, let me tell you.

Mom said it was time to go and Mike came out and said "What did Uncle Pete say?" I elbowed him to try to get him to shut up but he didn't get the hint. He followed up that question with "You both were staring at Jay, what's going on?"

I forgot to mention: Mike's got his own vocabulary thing going on. Whereas I call Mom 'Mom', he calls her 'Ma'. He calls our grandparents 'G-Ma' and 'G-Pa' and he calls me 'Jay'. I suppose in his own little world it's actually 'J' but whatever.

Anyway... Mom didn't want to answer at first but then she heaved this big sigh and said Uncle Pete wanted to take us to the Police Memorial at Parker Center. Mike immediately said "Far out!" (his favorite phrase these days) but I didn't say anything. I kind of wanted to go but at the same time I didn't. Not just because Mom obviously didn't want to go but... I can't explain it. It was like I was afraid to see it.

I've heard about it, of course. It's a big black marble fountain at Parker Center and it's got the names of all the LAPD officers killed in the line of duty on it. I knew Dad's name would be on it... and I didn't want to see it.

The whole time Mike was trying to talk Mom into letting us go, she was looking at me. I just stared back at her and didn't say anything. Not that I had to - Mike can be really annoying for a 13-year-old. Well, at the time he was twelve but he hasn't changed much in the last month. At any rate, he kept going on and on about how he wanted to go see it and please wouldn't she take us and the whole time she stared at me. Finally she nodded and Mike let out a whoop.

Uncle Pete drove us there, of course, since we all came in his car. When we got to Parker Center he parked in the side lot and we all got out and started walking. I was doing fine until we got to where I could just see the top of the fountain - it's pretty tall - and then I started dragging my feet. I don't know why but I just couldn't go any faster. It was like someone had tied a lead weight to my legs and the closer we got, the slower I got until I was lagging way behind everyone. I didn't think anyone would notice but Mom glanced over her shoulder and saw me.

I looked away from her then and kept my eyes on the ground. It helped me speed up a bit but I was still behind everyone - until Uncle Pete slowed down to walk beside me. He asked me if I was alright and I didn't know how to explain the way I was feeling so I just nodded. We kept going up and around this kind of wall and then it was right there in front of us.

As soon as I heard the water running I looked up. The thing was huge. Big, black pillars made of marble standing in a ring of black marble. The only word that came to mind was 'ominous'. We kind of made a half-circle around it and just stared. Even Mike was quiet for once.


June 19, 1989

I tried to think of what else to say after all that and came up blank, so I left it there. Just before I fell asleep last night I decided to write it down as though I was watching everything.

Mom was standing to the far left of me with Mike on her right side. I was to the right of Mike and Uncle Pete was to the right of me. Even though there were four of us, we didn't completely circle the fountain. Mike was staring up at the pillars with his mouth hanging open, Mom was looking straight ahead but it was like she wasn't really seeing anything, Uncle Pete was watching me and I was just... frozen.

Somehow, whether by accident or design, I wound up right in front of the part of the base with Dad's name on it. It was right in front of my eyes as though someone deliberately put it in my line of view: 'Det. J. A. Reed'. After my first sight of the monument I'd ducked my head again but there it was. I don't know whether I was supposed to be the one in front of it or not.

At first, like I said, I just stood there frozen. After all that time, it was kind of surreal to actually see it. Then my vision just kind of narrowed down to that point, like I couldn't see anything else, and I noticed how the water splashing down the fountain kind of sprayed a little onto the names. Not much, but after a while the moisture would gather and trickle down and it looked like tears.

I leaned down and wiped away the water but I guess it was sitting in the grooves in the letters because it wasn't long before they were weeping again. I wonder if the person who designed it knew that would happen?

Anyway, after I did that Mike came over to see what I was doing and said "Look! There's Dad's name! Cool!" Absolutely no tact. I took a half-step back so he could see and felt Uncle Pete at my shoulder. Mom finally came over and looked, too, but she didn't say anything. Then Mike said "Are all of these people cops that died, Uncle Pete?" and he said yes.

That kind of broke me out of my reverie. I looked at Mom but she just stared down at Dad's name. Then I moved past Uncle Pete and started reading the other names. He followed behind me until I came back around to where Mom was standing.

Mike then asked "How many are there?" Uncle Pete said almost two hundred and Mike kind of whistled. It was kind of awe-inspiring - and very sad. When compared to the three-and-a-half million people in Los Angeles that doesn't seem like a lot. If you think about the families and friends and co-workers that are affected by each one, though... It adds up to a lot of broken hearts.

I felt Uncle Pete's hand on my shoulder. I knew it was time to go and I should've wanted to, given how I felt when we were coming here, but now I didn't really want to. I just nodded, though, because I knew Mom was uncomfortable. Mike wouldn't really care. He'd want to go do something else now.

We left and headed home. Uncle Pete offered to stop for ice cream but he didn't seem really surprised when Mom said she just wanted to go home. Mike put up a bit of protest but even his heart wasn't really in it. I just wanted some time to think.


August 14, 1989

It's just about the beginning of another school year. By the end of this one I'll have my undergraduate degree and then it's three years for my graduate degree. Yay.

I haven't told anyone but I've been back to see the memorial a few times. Sometimes I stand right up to it and watch the water trickle out of the letters and sometimes I sit on one of the benches they have nearby. Either way, I spend a lot of time thinking.

Uncle Pete came over for the barbecue in June. He and Mom spent a lot of time talking. At one point he asked me if I'd take Mike somewhere for a while so we went to see a movie. He wanted to see Ghostbusters 2 but I knew Mom wouldn't like it so we saw Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade instead. It was pretty good, actually. Even Mike liked it.

By the time we got home Uncle Pete was gone and Mom was in bed. When I looked in she was reading a book. She asked how the movie was and I asked her if she was alright. Both of us answered 'fine'. I was telling the truth but I don't know if she was.


September 23, 1989

So far this year has been going pretty easy. Either I've gotten used to how things go in college or we're in for a helluva surprise.

Jenny and I went on an actual date last night. Dinner, movie - the works. We've decided that we're just really good friends and would rather keep it that way. At first it was really awkward but we talked about it and we both figure there's no romantic feelings between the two of us.

I managed to make her laugh by asking if that meant I had to call her 'Jennifer' now. She tells almost everyone to call her that but for some reason she doesn't mind if I don't. I said if it would make her feel better she can call me 'Jimmy'.

She also surprised me by telling me the guy Uncle Pete brought by the house was her dad. I didn't even put the two together but it makes perfect sense now. I told her he was probably the coolest person I'd ever met - except for the Hawaiian shirt. She laughed really hard at that.


October 9, 1989

I told Jenny about going to the memorial. To the best of my recollection I've been there over twenty times. She asked me why I keep going back but I didn't have an answer. Then she asked me what I think about while I'm there - I didn't know that, either. Memories, mostly. Not just of Dad but of conversations with Uncle Pete and stuff. It's funny, in a way. I spend a lot of time thinking when I go there but when I leave, it's like my mind is a total blank.

Then she asked me something strange. She said "Do you ever see your name up there?" I was about to say 'no' but really, I do. Not just because my name is the same as my dad's or because I have a death wish or anything, but because those people died doing something they loved to do - something with purpose - and I want to be that dedicated to what I do.

Problem is, I don't know what I want to do.

I know it sounds ridiculous, given that I'm starting my fourth year of law school, but it's true. The longer I spend here, the less certain I am about being a lawyer. I try to picture myself up in front of a courtroom trying a witness or a suspect and I just can't see it. Or, rather, I can see it and the image makes me feel sick - and a little claustrophobic.

I'm all mixed up.