It was a drizzly morning not long before Thanksgiving when the commissioner saw something. At first, he didn't really pay attention to it, but then he started to think about it as the day progressed. And more he thought about it, the more he felt haunted.
That morning Frank was in a hurry for he had a meeting with the mayor at 9 a.m. at his office but thanks to the fact that it was a rush hour his driver got stuck in a traffic jam.
He looked nervously at the watch on his wrist. It was already a quarter to nine. "Damn it, he was going to be late!" He cursed in his head.
Frank sighed heavily before he turned to his driver:
"You know what, John? I think I will walk from here," the commissioner announced suddenly right before he opened the door to his car. After all, they were approximately one block away from 1PP, and with a little luck, he would be able to get there before the mayor.
Raindrops kept falling on his head as he walked swiftly towards the Police Plaza. It was freezing cold, and therefore he pulled his coat closer to his chest to prevent the cold from getting to him. He was quite lucky to see that the building was right in front of him. He was just about to enter the back entrance to 1PP when he saw something that caught his attention.
It was nothing but yet he could not just let it be.
On the opposite side of the road, he glanced a small group of homeless men who decided to build their modest shelters in a park right in front of 1PP.
The commissioner just raised his eyebrows. Naturally, he felt terrible for these people mainly because it was often their unfortunate life that has brought them here on the street, but on the other hand, he as the police commissioner could hardly tolerate them camping right in front of the Police Plaza. If it was somewhere else then, maybe, he could have overlooked it, but he could hardly do so when they were camping right under his windows.
He would have to have a word with Garrett and see what they can do about their situation. Or maybe he could first call the archbishop whether his church didn't have some accommodation for these men in one of the religious charities. Frank thought for himself as he entered the back entrance to 1PP.
"Good morning, sir," the old gatekeeper named George, who worked there even when his father was commissioner, greeted him. "I see you decided to take the back entrance today."
George gave him a smirk. He knew Frank ever since he was a young police officer, and therefore, he was quite candid when he spoke to him.
"Morning, George," Frank greeted the old man, sincerely.
"I'm afraid, John and I got stuck in a traffic jam again. So I had no choice but to take a walk to the office... that way, I can at least clear my head...," he shrugged his shoulders.
"That's good to hear, sir," George replied, nodding his head in agreement.
Out of sudden, they heard some commotion coming from the group of homeless men Frank noticed earlier.
He and George turned both towards them see they could see what was happening.
Two men were fighting over some bottle of Vodka.
"I told the boys from the 1st to do something about them already a few days ago, but as you can see, nothing has happened yet," George lamented. He was old school. He didn't like it when someone was taking their time to do their job.
Frank just nodded his head. "I'll see what I can do about it," he promised as he was about to leave when George mentioned something that caught his attention: "There is a kid among them."
"A kid?" The commissioner asked, surprised. Not sure what George meant by that.
"Have the social workers been notified?" He asked as he kept thinking about what George has just told him.
"Well, it's difficult to say whether the kid is fifteen or eighteen…, you know how kids are these days…, but he seems pretty young, much younger than the others..." the old man shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
"Alright, I'll talk to Garrett, and we will see what we can do about it," Frank promised again before he said his goodbye to George. "I hope you will have a good day, George!"
"You too, sir," the old gatekeeper replied.
***BB***
(later that day)
"There is just one more thing I want to talk to you about before you go," the commissioner said to his DCPI at the end of their daily briefing.
"I noticed this morning when I was taking the back entrance to 1PP that there was a group of homeless men residing right in our neighborhood, more precisely in that park across the street… I was hoping you could do something about it," Frank said to his friend.
"Of course, what do you want me to do?" Garrett questioned as he closed the files he previously discussed with the commissioner.
"Well, I was thinking about contacting the local religious charities to begin with, although I got the impression that most likely not everyone will be willing to relocate in some kind of facility," the commissioner pointed out, "however, we cannot look away from this, not when they decided to reside right in front of our building."
"Right, I'll make the calls," Garrett assured Frank as he was about to leave the office.
"Thank you," his friend replied. "And one more thing, Garrett, George mentioned there was a boy among the group. He wasn't sure about his age, but I want you to find out and get the social services involved, if necessary."
"Consider it done," his friend replied as he opened the door to his office.
"Thank you," Frank called after Garrett as his DCPI was leaving the room.
***BB***
(next day)
Next day the commissioner watched the group of homeless men being taken away one by one from the window in his office. He couldn't help it but feel sorry for them. It was the soft and kind side of him his late wife admired about him the most. He wished she could have been here with him so he wouldn't feel so much pain. The pain he felt ever since Jamie went missing. He knew he was feeling miserable because he felt bad for those men and women at the street downstairs and therefore he walked back to his desk, hoping he would be able to get some work done before it would be too late and it will be time for him to return home.
About an hour later, Garrett walked into his office to let him know that they were finished.
"It's done," Garrett announced to Frank who was just going through some files on his desk as usual, "five of them were placed at the local charities, seven declined, and two were arrested for previous misconducts," his DCPI counted out.
"Good," the commissioner nodded his head. At least there was a chance that those five souls could be saved.
"What about the boy?" He remembered suddenly.
"Unfortunately, the boy ran away during the swoop," Garrett revealed to his friend as he took the seat in front of Frank's desk.
"You saw him?" His friend wanted to know as he put down the file he was previously reading.
"Only briefly," Garrett revealed.
"Was he really a child?" Frank wanted to know.
"I guess, but I only saw him for a brief moment," the DCPI stated apologetically.
"Alright," Frank nodded his head, "I guess, that's all for tonight."
"How about we go out tonight?" Garrett proposed, hopefully. "You haven't really been anywhere ever since Mary died." He said to his friend as Frank was going through the pile on his desk, looking for some file.
"That's hardly true, I'm out at least two times a week as the commissioner, remember?" The chief of police reminded his friend.
"Yeah, but I was talking about you, Frank Reagan, not the PC. Why don't we go to O'Kellys tonight and get some beers, besides I could introduce you to that reporter Kelly Davidson," Garrett suggested carefully.
"Maybe some other time," Frank uttered tiredly before he added: "It's still soon for me to go out."
"Frank, Mary wouldn't want you to grieve for her," Garrett pointed out, remember his friend's late wife, "or at least not for the rest of your life!"
"I'm tired, Garrett," the commissioner uttered in a low voice, "some other time. "
***BB***
(later that evening)
"Long night," George pointed out when he saw the PC leaving 1PP late that night. It was already after 10 p.m.
"Yes, it was," the commissioner agreed. He was tired and hungry, and he wanted nothing but to go home, have some of that delicious pot roast pops was making and wash it off with one beer before he falls to the bed.
"I saw Garrett took care of those homeless men," the old gatekeeper pointed out as the commissioner was about to get into his waiting car.
"Yeah, he did, "Frank replied.
"Funny thing, I could swear, I saw the kid return," Gorge mentioned suddenly.
Frank just stopped in his tracks.
"What do you mean he returned?" He asked the old man.
"He is back in the park. He was sleeping in a cartoon box…," Gorge revealed to the commissioner.
At this moment, Frank just heard enough. This had to stop. No child was about to sleep on the street, not on his watch. He told himself before he turned to his driver:
"John, could you just wait for me here?" He asked his driver as he handed him his briefcase. "I need to take care of something."
And he headed towards the park where he saw the group of homeless men the day before.
It was long dark, and he could barely recognize the outlines of something that reminded an old carton box under the tree where the group of homeless men had their shelters before they were evicted.
Someone was apparently inside because the box was slightly shaking.
Frank wasn't really thinking about what he was doing when he bent down and peaked inside.
And then he saw him. A young boy sleeping inside. Frank couldn't see much of his face for the boy was curled into a ball to keep warm. But then the boy moved, and tiny bits of light coming from the nearby street lamp felt on his face.
Frank couldn't believe his eyes.
The boy kind of reminded him of Jamie or at least how the commissioner imagined Jamie would look like at this age.
He wasn't sure whether he didn't just imagine it, but he could swear that the child was his Jamie.
"Jamie," the commissioner addressed the boy when he overcame the initial shock. His voice was shaking for he couldn't believe it. His son was there, right in front of him.
His calling woke up the boy.
He looked at him timidly, not saying a single word. There was no question that the boy was scared.
"You don't have to be afraid, son, it's me, dad," Frank addressed the boy with a soft voice as he was trying to come closer to him.
But the boy who didn't know what to expect pulled away.
"It's ok, Jamie. It's me, I'm gonna take you home," the commissioner told the boy. His eyes were full of tears. "You're shaking with cold," Frank uttered when he saw the that the boy was obviously cold, "let me get you a warm blanket," he suggested before he turned to his drive.
"John, could you bring me a blanket," the commissioner shouted loudly towards his driver.
But he shouldn't have done it because the boy used the opportunity that he turned around and ran away.
"Damn it!" Frank cursed.
He thought about going after the boy for a moment, but then he refused the idea for he could have scared the kid even more and therefore he decided to let him go.
He even didn't know whether the kid was Jamie, or he just wished him to be his son.
He was ridiculous. The commissioner berated himself. There was no way that the boy could have been his son. And even if, why would he run away? It couldn't have been because of that stupid argument he and Jamie had years ago. Plus, if it was his son, why wouldn't he just come home if he has been all these years in New York?
Besides, as he watched the boy run away, he realized he was limping, he must have had something with his leg. Jamie could always walk normally unless he hurt his leg recently.
It can't be him! The commissioner berated himself. It just can't.
But then he remembered those beautiful hazel eyes that stared at him shyly.
If only the boy didn't run away. Frank thought as he was walking slowly back to his car.
Where was that boy going to sleep tonight? He wondered. Hopefully, he will return to his improvised shelter next to 1PP where George could keep an eye on him or worse he will be somewhere out there, mindlessly strolling the streets of New York City. Or he could be spending the night under some bridge with other homeless men, who were drunk or even on drugs.
Frank prayed for that boy's safety as he neared his driver John and George.
TBC
AN:
Hey guys, I just wanted to tell you that I loved your ideas so much! The idea of Jamie being held by a cult almost made me rewrite my story entirely. That was so great! I also liked the idea of someone who could not have their own children abducting Jamie or a crazy person. Really love when you share your thoughts, so inspiring... But then, I hope I won't let you down what I have planned for Jamie and Frank, or maybe it's something you never saw coming. Who knows? Take care, guys!