Recovery
Chapter 3
Journal of John Nolan
I was thinking of settling in with a beer and a pizza before putting down my ideas for the playground and other things I might be able to do for the neighborhood around the community policing center. That notion went down the tubes when Henry called. He and Abigail have put off their wedding plans.
I heard that with relief, except for the reason. They're both getting involved with the protests. I'm proud of Henry for that. I'm proud of both of them. I'm also afraid for both of them. Grey may be trying his hardest to put the reins on police treatment of the protesters, but elsewhere, conditions are very different. Henry and Abigail could get tear-gassed, pepper-sprayed, or worse. I've been pushed to the realization that they'll have an easier time of it because they're white. But knowing that, in itself, is a sad thing. The idea that Harper feels lucky that Lila is a girl and less likely to be shot without question burns me up inside.
I remember that when Henry was growing up, Mr. Rogers told the kids that when they were in trouble to look for the helpers. That was supposed to include police. But these protests are because, in too many cases, police do anything but help. I hope they lead to more justice. Damn! I pray they lead to more justice. But men like I've encountered at the center don't believe they will, and I can already see where they're coming from. I'll be doing what I can to change the neighborhood's collective mind, but Harper thinks I'm naïve to believe I can.
I am going to sketch out a few more plans before I turn in, and I'm hoping I'll sleep tonight. If Harper and I can make it to the center without having to bust another meth dealer, we have a lot of work to do.
On one of the precious evenings that Nyla has Lila with her, she kisses her daughter good night. It's seemed to take hours for the little girl to settle down. Last week, she was ecstatic to use her new set of markers to draw pictures of her friends and family. And she was good at it. Nolan remarked on Lila's skill, and the rookie has a surprising amount of art talent himself.
Now suddenly, Lila's into music. She's spent hours watching YouTube videos about singing and playing instruments. She was also singing along and doing an outstanding job. Before closing her eyes tonight, she asked if she could take music classes. Nyla will have to talk to Donovan about that, but she doesn't see why not. They're supposed to have their regular shared-custody talk tomorrow evening. Nyla can bring it up then, but she'd be surprised if Lila won't have already approached her father. She could call before tomorrow night and check. For a long while, Donovan was the only one Lila could go to with ideas like that. Nyla is working hard to make up for lost time.
While walking the broken sidewalks surrounding the community policing center, Nolan notices a man fixing a fence around an overgrown lot. "Is that property yours?" Nolan asks.
"If it were, it wouldn't be in that condition," the man replies with an almost imperceptible Hispanic accent. "The meth cooks use it as a dumping ground. It's dangerous for the kids to even get near that poison. I'm making sure they don't." He stares at Nolan's badge. "If you cops really cared about getting that crap out of our neighborhood, I could be spending my time looking for a job."
"Believe me, I do care," Nolan assures him, surveying the repair. "That's good work. Are you in construction?"
"When I can be. I was building houses, but the openings dried up with the immigration scare. I'm a citizen. I can legally work anywhere, but the developers don't want I.C.E. sniffing around. And I.C.E. doesn't always check to see who's documented. They just move in. Sometimes I hang out in the Home Center parking lot to pick up enough work to keep my family afloat, but I'm trying to start my own business. I don't suppose you think you can help with that."
"Actually, I might be able to," Nolan responds. "I was in construction for 20 years before I joined the L.A.P.D. I get requests to put stuff in for other cops all the time, but I don't need the work. What's your name?"
"Hugo, Hugo Hernandez.
"Well, Hugo, give me your card or at least your number. I'll give you my card too, so you know who I am, and I can refer jobs to you."
Hugo pulls a card from his pocket and exchanges it for one from Nolan. "I'd be grateful, man." He points toward the community policing center. "I don't suppose there's anything that needs fixing in there."
Nolan shakes his head. "I wish we had more stuff that could need fixing. But there's work out here. I'm trying to get that playground in the next block fixed up so the kids have a safe place to play. I'm taking signups."
"Got anyone yet?" Hugo asks.
"You'd be the first," Nolan admits.
"Yeah, sure," Hugo concedes, "when I finish this, I can help you out."
Strains of trumpet music drift in from a freeway access road. "Whoever that is, is good," Nolan remarks.
"He's out there a lot of days, trying to get money from drivers slowing down to make an exit. Playing that thing must work better for him than holding up one of those cardboard signs," Hugo assumes.
"He's a panhandler?" Nolan inquires.
Hugo shrugs, "You could call it that. I've talked to him a couple of times. He prefers 'street musician.'"
"I saw one of those on 'U.S.A.'s Got Talent,'" Nolan recalls. "He didn't win, but he ended up with a recording contract or something. It seems like there's a lot of talent around here." Nolan notes. "There should be a better way to put it to work than begging for a few bucks. Maybe a band to raise money for local revitalization would work. Or better still, it could raise awareness, maybe get on K.T.L.A.
Hugo shakes his head. "Officer Nolan, you're either a dreamer or the most naïve cop that's ever come down here."
"Probably a little of both," Nolan admits, "but a couple of my friends are into the music scene. I've already dragged them into volunteering at the center. No reason I can't ask them about putting a band together. The worst that can happen is I'll be the butt of a joke, and that happens all the time anyway. But we can get something going. I'll put you down for working on the playground. Let me know when you're finished here, and you can tell me what you think of my plans."
Hugo smiles doubtfully at the rookie. "Sure, why not?"
Harper's waiting impatiently when John returns to the center. "Look, I've got to talk to Donovan about Lila. He'll usually pick up the phone this time of the morning. It won't take long. Can you hold down the fort here for a few minutes?"
"Uh-huh," Nolan agrees. "Anything wrong? I mean, Lila's OK, isn't she?"
"She's fine, she just wants to get into something new, and per our co-parenting agreement, I should run it by her father. I'll do that right now if you're ready to pick up the reins."
"Poised and eager," Nolan grins. "Whatever it is, I'm sure Lila will do great."
