Burying Ben (5 page)

“How did your parents die
?
”

His jaw
m
u
s
cles begin tensing and fle
x
ing under his skin. “In a car crash.” He looks straight at
m
e, his eyes suddenly wary as though I am
a dental hygienist ai
m
i
ng at the soft tiss
u
e between his teeth with a sha
r
p instru
m
ent. There’s so
m
ething he doesn
’
t want
m
e to know or so
m
ething he doesn’t want
to deal with hi
m
self. I have no right to force him
to reveal his
f
eelings. I couldn’t if
I tried. I need to wait until
h
e tru
s
ts
m
e. Therapy takes ti
m
e, and I don’t have a lot of ti
m
e before Ri
m
b
auer pulls the plug.

“Not a big deal. It was a long ti
m
e ago.
Fourteen years. It wasn’t like I was neglected or anything.”

“Losing both your parents when you were ten?
S
ounds like a big deal to
m
e.”

“My grandparents thought so too. Forced
m
e to see so
m
e social worker with moony eyes. It was like she took classes looki
n
g sy
m
pathetic. I just went to please them. Why is everyone interested in
m
y parents?
The person who did
m
y psych gave
m
e a real hard ti
m
e over it.“ He shifts in his seat. “How co
m
e you didn’t do
m
y p
s
ych?”

I
m
ake a mental note to call Mark
and get Ben’s pre-e
m
ploy
m
ent evaluation.

I change the subject. ”So Ben?
How long have you been
m
arried?”

He
s
m
iles broadly, roun
d
ing his face. “Just a
co
u
ple of weeks, actually. We haven’t even had ti
m
e for a honeymoon. I kept q
u
iet because I didn’t w
a
nt it to be a big deal. You know how they’re always tell
i
ng you not to
m
ake any big
m
oves or buy anything while you’re in FTO in case you don’t
m
ake it. Maybe I should’ve listened.” He looks at his watch. “
W
hat am
I going to do, Doc?
I don’t think I can get through two more weeks with Ri
m
bauer.”

“He’s a tough one, I’ll give you that. But you can’t change him. Hard enough to change yourself, let alone anyone else. Ever
try to go on a diet or
start an exercise progra
m
?
”

We laugh together at
this little joke about hu
m
a
n frailty. “
A
ll you can do is contr
o
l your own reacti
o
ns, calm
down when yo
u
’re feeling stressed. It’s a start. You can’t think clearly when you’re
s
t
re
ss
ed, no one can. And you can’t calm
your
m
i
nd until your body is cal
m
. So let’s start there.”

I take out a folder of handouts on breathing techniq
u
es and progres
si
ve relaxati
o
n. I don’t k
n
ow if it will work. People spend years
m
astering s
e
l
f
-soothing
s
kills. B
u
t it is a
f
irst
s
tep.
Ben is a ni
c
e kid,
m
aybe too ni
c
e
f
or this job. But he’s had a rough start in life. He needs a break
and, I hate to ad
m
it this to myself, I need to feel helpful.

“Start practicing these exerci
s
es. T
h
ey’re very easy.
W
ork on them
for 20
m
inutes a day. Just
f
ollow the instructions.
T
hey’ll help your concentration.
W
hen your concentrati
o
n i
m
proves, so will your perfor
m
ance.”

He flips through the papers I hand him
a
nd flashes another smile. “Ri
m
bauer told
m
e you were going to hypnotize
m
e or ask
m
e
if
he
re
m
inded
m
e
of
m
y father.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” I pick up a second file and hand it to hi
m
. “This is a learning style inventory.
It will take you about 30
m
i
nutes to co
m
plete. Do it at ho
m
e
a
nd bring it with
you for our next appoi
nt
m
ent.
W
e
a
l
l learn differently. This will gi
v
e us a profile of how you organize infor
m
ation. I
have a hunch you’re a little different than most officers.”

“
W
hat do you
m
ean?
Di
f
f
erent ho
w
?”

“More sensitive,
m
aybe. More of a people person than
m
ost. I noticed that you took a great interest in that old
m
an who hung hi
m
self. You
s
ee
m
ed concerned. Many cops wouldn’t even notice or care.”

“So, is that bad or good
?“

“It can be very good. Cops need people skills because
m
ost of what they do involves talking to people.”

He looks relie
v
ed though I’m
only
m
aking him feel better for the
m
o
m
ent.
W
hat he really needs is a tough skin
to shed all the
m
i
sery he’s going to see. Instead, I fear he’s covered with V
e
lcro. Orphaned at ten, any call involving abandon
m
ent or child abuse has
the potential to hit him
hard
and not let go.

“I’m
sure I can help you and Officer R
i
m
bauer sort things out.” I don’t feel as certain as I sound, but hope is all I have to offer.
“
W
e
’
ll go
over your learning inventory at our next appoint
m
ent and then we’ll bring Officer Ri
m
b
auer into the discussion.
In
the
m
eantime, if you have any questions, feel free to call
m
e.”

He looks skeptical. “Okay, Doc, if you say
so. I’m at the end of
m
y rope.” I flash back to the old
m
an on the floor, to the endless loop of slides, and to the look on Ben’s face. The unconscious
w
orks overti
m
e. His
is an interesting, though not accide
n
t
al, choice of words.

I don
’
t want to, but I call Mark and ask h
i
m
to share Ben’s pre-e
m
ploy
m
ent psych assess
m
ent. I can picture him
at his desk, bu
r
nished with the glow of his new young love. He’ll be glad to hear from
m
e, eager to help,
full of all the happy details of his new life. I can hardly bear to hear his voice or fend off
his efforts at friendship. Most of all, I can’t bear knowing he is immune to
m
y
s
orrow. He
answers on the third ring. I lie and tell him I have only a few
m
i
nutes to talk because a
c
lient is waiting.

He doesn
’
t re
m
e
mber Ben. “Getting old,” he jokes. “And busy. I
’
ve
done so
m
any psychs in the last six months they all run together. Melinda
’
s helping out, but she’s studying for her licensing exa
m
. Let me get his file.
I
’
ll call you back in five.”

He calls back in ten.

“Sorry. I can
’
t find his folder.
W
e
’
re in
the
m
i
ddle of switching over to a new co
m
puterized system
and things are a
m
ess,
boxes everywhere. It
’
s costing
m
e a fortune, but the old system
can
’
t
support the volu
m
e of
t
e
sting I
’
m
do
i
ng, and the state insists I encrypt all my reports. I
’
ll keep looking. Plus
two of my clerical staff are out. One
’
s on vacation and
the other o
n
e broke her collarbone in a bike
accident. Sorry, babe, I kn
o
w you need it now.”

I bristle at his calling
m
e babe.

“How’re you doing?
Things working out at the
P
D
?
”

“I
’
d better go,” I say. “My client
’
s waiting.”

“Anyti
m
e. My phone’s always on the hook for you.”

Chapter Four

Eddie Ri
m
b
auer is waiting for
m
e in the hall t
h
e first day back after his four days off. I’m on
m
y way to
m
eet with the supervisor of records. Two of her
e
m
ployees have a cantankerous relationship. They fight over
w
ho takes the longer c
o
ffee break and does the least work. Their chronic low-grade anger is
affecting the unit
’
s
m
orale, and though she doesn
’
t say so, I can see the supervisor is worn down as
m
uch as anyone else having to babysit two grown women in their fifties.

“Step into my office,” Eddie says and u
s
hers
m
e through a stairwell door into an airless,
d
i
m
l
y lit landing.
His eyes are puffy and irritated. “How’d you
m
ake out with Mr. Safeway
?
” He hooks his fingers behind his belt, on either s
i
de of his drooping belly, and rocks back
o
n his feet.

“Sorry. I hope you understand, but I can
’
t tell you
m
uch beyond the fact that he kept his appoint
m
ent and that I’m
going to do
m
y
best to help hi
m
. The details of our conversation are confidential.”

“I don
’
t want to know if he
’
s screwing h
i
s
m
other. All I want to know is what
’
s stressing him out.”

“To be honest, I think you
’
re being
too rough on hi
m
. I know hu
m
or is an i
m
portant way to defuse stress, but from
what I saw at that s
u
icide call – excuse
m
y bluntness – but I thoug
h
t your hu
m
or was over the top. You were hu
m
iliating
h
i
m
.” I’m sweating. I can feel steam rising in my clothes.
Eddie is s
t
aring at
m
e, his gray eyes glinting like bullets. The edg
e
s of his ears are tinged with
pink.

“
W
hat about his other FTOs, Eddie?
Tell
m
e what they’ve said about him.”

“That he
’
s the best thing s
i
nce sliced bread. Everyone likes him because he tries hard. But trying hard doesn’t
m
ean he can do
the job, and they don’t h
a
ve the balls to tell him
that. So they pat him on the back and he shows up for work the next day, fat, du
m
b, and happy. Thinks he’s acing t
h
e progra
m
until he gets to me. And then it
’
s shock city. I give him
what he deserves. They don
’
t pay
m
e to be a rubber sta
m
p.”

“I think you’re putting too
m
uch pressure on hi
m
.”

“And you know this how?
From
your years
of experience as a cop?
From all those books you wrote in your ivory tower? This is a
police department. He has to take pressure. If he wants
s
y
m
pathy tell him
to look in the
d
i
cti
o
nary between shit and s
y
philis
.
” The edges of his ears are now fla
m
ing red.

“Have you ever asked him why he’s so stressed out
?
”

“Are you kidding? He doesn’t say a word
all day. Cla
m
s up. Looks at his feet. Ten hours in the cruiser
w
ith a frigging corpse.”

“Doesn’t sound easy for either of you. G
i
ve
m
e a
couple
m
ore sessions and then I’d like you to join us, see if we can’t sort out your differences.”

“That’s
it?”

“
W
hat were you hoping for
?
”

“Beats
m
e. I just wanted to cover all my bases before the chief pulls the plug on the poor sc
h
muck.” He reaches for t
h
e door, ope
n
s it a crack and lets it cl
o
se again. “
L
et
m
e tell you a couple of things, Doc. For your
own good.” The light in the stairwell is murky with dust
m
otes. “Nu
m
ber one: that con
f
identiality crap doesn
’
t fly with cops. We do our jobs out in the open
w
ith the ACLU on our ass.
W
e don
’
t have a lot of sy
m
pathy for shrinks who get to fuck up behind closed doors. Nu
m
ber
two: learn how to
m
ake yourself useful around here. People are laughing at you behind your back. They think you
’
re a joke. Another bullet point on the c
h
ief
’
s resu
m
e. Or his latest punch.”

He opens t
h
e door to the hall. A stream of air hits my face as the door closes behind hi
m
. I press
m
y forehead against the cool
m
etal. Outside in the h
a
ll, I can he
a
r people laughing. Eddie can
’
t be right. He
’
s trying to inti
m
i
date
m
e. I’m not a joke. People aren
’
t laughing at
m
e behind
m
y ba
c
k. Not yet. Not so soon.

I take the elevator up to Baxter’s office.
My hands are still trembling after
m
y confrontation with Eddie. He’s a big bully, just the kind of cop
m
y father would hate. Throws his weight around when he doesn’t need
to, just to satisfy hi
m
self. My ex does the sa
m
e thing, only with a gloss of concern and affection for
m
y well being.
W
ell I’ve had it being nice to
m
en who aren’t nice to
m
e. My job description
m
andates
m
e to identify sources of organizational stress and
bring them
to the chief
’
s attention. No one else has dared to take Eddie on, certainly not
his recruits. It’s risky. If I get a reputation
f
or being a
s
nitch, no o
n
e will talk to
m
e, ever a
g
ain.

Baxter
’
s off
i
ce is a
p
erfectly sq
u
are room
paneled in dark knotty pine and carpeted in brown shag. For forty years, nothing has ch
a
nged in this office but the chief of police. There is a worn spot on the rug in front of his desk where generations of nervous officers have been literally called on the carpet. I walk to the
m
i
ddle of it. B
a
xter is leaning over his desk, studying a large
m
ap of the city
that he keeps under the glass top, as though considering the possibility that he has gone to the wrong offi
c
e. The large bay window behind him
is opaque with fog. There are dark circles under his eyes. He senses
m
y presence and picks up a t
h
ick sheaf of papers. ”Budgets, sa
m
e torture every year. Sa
m
e fight over who has to
m
ake cuts. How you doin
g
?
Getting alo
n
g okay?”

“I need to talk to you about so
m
ething. I’ve been working with Ben Go
m
ez. As you know, he isn’t doing well.
W
hat you
m
ay not know is that the pri
m
ary reason he isn’t doing well is that he isn’t getting along
w
ith his FTO, Eddie R
i
m
bauer. Is there any possibility he could ask
f
or another FTO
?
”

“Recruits always bla
m
e their FTOs when
they get in trouble. Eddie is tough. If he’s putting on the pressure, it’s for a good reason.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I spend over $100,000 dollars on recruit
m
ent
and training for every rookie I hire. That
’
s a big invest
m
ent. I want them
to succeed. I give them
every chance I can,
m
ore ti
m
e in the progra
m
if they need it, re
m
edial
training, whatever it tak
e
s. This is not boot ca
m
p. I don’t let
m
y FTOs deliberately harass
recruits. That
’
s old school. If Eddie was harassing anyone, I would know it.”

“Maybe yes,
m
aybe, no. The chief can be
the last to know what goes on at the line level
.
”

Baxter
’
s eyes spark. “You’ve been here less than a
m
onth and you’re telling
m
e I don’t know how
m
y organization
works?”

For the seco
n
d ti
m
e this morning I’m
being dis
m
issed becau
s
e I’m a no-nothing civilian. “I’m
only suggesting that Eddie Rimbauer
m
ay not be the person you think he is.”

“And you know this how
?
”

“By watching hi
m
, talking to hi
m
, listening to what people say about hi
m
.”

“Like wh
o
?”

“I ca
n
’t say
.
”

“If you have so
m
e specific infor
m
ation about Eddie, you’d better tell
m
e.” He pauses for a second and waggles his head. I
can hear his neck c
r
ack.
“Do you
?
”

I say nothing.

“So this is your intuition
telling you Eddie is the proble
m
?
”