Chapter 8

It was about a year and a half later that my quiet life was upended again. This time it brought me back into participanting in reality instead of retreating. One Friday evening, I was sitting on my couch watching some such thing on Netflix, and my phone rang. I checked the clock- it was two thirty in the morning. My phone said it was the police department. I hesitated to answer, knowing that whatever it was probably wasn't good. But in the end I picked up and said, "Hello?"

Sergeant Bosco was on the other end. "Logan Bush?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got a drunk and disorderly here. She's been screaming about you ever since we picked her up tonight. She was shouting your name and damaging public property. Her name is Louise Belcher. Do you know what this is about?"

My stomach flip-flopped. I had avoided thinking about Louise for months. I had assumed she had long since forgotten about me. When I was deep into a bourbon hole, I did think about seeing her in New York. How grown up she was. Wondering what she was doing there. I avoided Ocean Avenue in general, minus the occasional trip to a bar on that street, so I never saw her, even in our small oceanside town. Hearing that she was at the police station was a little amusing, but more confusing than anything. I wondered what the hell she was yelling about me for.

"What was she doing?" I asked.

"Kicking and beating a fire lane sign. We're likely going to have to replace the damn thing. She was pretty worked up. When we brought her in, she said it was all your fault."

"Uh…" I didn't really know what to say. But thinking about her brought a smile to my face and it was one of the first stirrings of warmth and pleasure I had had in a very long time. "I guess… Can I pay her bail?"

"Well, if you could pay her fine for the damage, we could let her go without pressing charges on her." Bosco seemed to think this was getting boring. I guess weird night shift shenanigans had paled after all these years.

"Okay, then I'll do that. Let me grab my wallet." I drove down to the station and paid the fine, and then called a cab company for her so she could get home safely. From Bosco's description, she wouldn't be in any shape to drive herself for hours yet. Apparently you could have gotten drunk just from the booze fumes on her. I didn't stay to see her release. I even asked Bosco not to say he called me or about my involvement at all. If she was as angry as described, I had a feeling she would not want to see me that night.

I figured I should call her dad to let him know that she was okay. I bet they were freaking out. She was a legal adult and everything, but Bob and Linda were very involved parents and had to have noticed she wasn't home, right? On my way home I scrolled through my old phone contacts for Bob's home number and dialled up the apartment. (I also thought it was super endearing that Bob had a landline.)

"Hello, Bob?" I asked when someone picked up the phone. I heard a baby screaming in the background.

"Uh, no. He doesn't live here anymore. What the hell do you think you're doing calling this late?! " I was taken aback. Bob not at Ocean Avenue? I guess I really was out of the loop on town talk. The voice on the other end was ranting still. Maybe calling was a huge mistake. "What kind of moron calls up at 3 am?! Who does that? I have half a mind to reach through this damn phone and strangle you!"

"Um, well, do you know how to get to Bob? His daughter is in jail but she's coming home in a little while. I wanted to let the Belchers know she was safe." I tried to both talk over him while not sounding like I was yelling at him. He eventually stopped long enough for me to rush through my explanation again.

"Do what?" He sounded concerned, angry, and exhausted all at once. "Never mind. Talk to Tina." There was some rustling as he passed the phone off and I realised that this was probably Louise's older sister, Tina.

"Hello? What's this about Louise? Is she okay?" Her voice was thick with concern. The man I spoke to before was still in the background, shushing the crying child.

"Yeah, apparently there was a misunderstanding with the cops. She's getting released any minute and I got her a taxi home." I was relieved we were talking like normal people, even if this conversation was taking place at 3 am. She was a lot calmer than the guy who I supposed was her husband.

"I'm sorry…uh… who is this? Why're you helping her?" I hesitated, not wanting Louise to know it was me.

Honesty won out. "It's Logan Bush. Can you not tell her it was me? I don't think she would like to know that." I hoped I wasn't compromising her but after calling them so late I feel like I owed it to her.

"I guess. Okay. She's coming back soon?" Her sleep deprivation was winning and I could hear how bone-deep tired she was.

We exchanged a couple more pleasantries and I made sure to apologise again for the late call. Then we hung up, I arrived home, and went back to bed. The whole ordeal was nearly forgotten about for roughly six months before the earth shifted again.