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Lucky Little

“It was no problem at all, are you kidding me? continued...

The least I could do was get the report typed up and turned in. It’s your big day today Partner.” Kenny says. “Have you picked out a name for him yet?” Their in a Houston Police Department squad car driving through the rapidly expanding network of freeways being constructed. Houston was booming. The uniformed officer speaking and driving the car reaches over to the passenger seat and gives Bobby Ray a hearty couple of slaps on the shoulder. February 22, 1966. 7:15 am. Kenny is an old friend who brought B.R. on to the force. He had been around for a while and had years of experience below, in between and on top of Houston politics from the inside out with a badge and gun instead of a title and a knife that cut deeper than anything he would experience on the streets. He worked his way up slowly but wisely. He had helped enough of the right people at the right times to have quite a bit of wiggle room when he needed it. He used his favor to help his fellow men in blue, especially his sidekick Bobby Ray. “He’ll have a name before he comes home today.” Bobby Ray says with a smile. “Just drop me off up front”. The cruiser pulls up abruptly bringing the car to a screeching halt at the curb of the Houston Police Station, scaring the young girl stepping out of the backseat of a yellow cab just inches in front of his bumper. “Damnit Kenny, you son of a …” Bobby bites his tongue. As Bobby gets out Kenny bends over to look out the passenger window, “We’ll see you tonight, I’ll bring the jersey.” “Don’t bother” Bobby says, “Mary Ann already has an Oiler jersey made up for him”. “The Cowboys are going all the way this year, you watch! Mark my words.” Kenny yells as Bobby starts to walk away. Over his shoulder Bobby hollars back, “They’ll never make it past Vincent, my friend.”, and he keeps walking. As much as Bobby rooted for the Oilers and Kenny for the Cowboys, they both knew that Vince Lombardi was brilliant and his Green Bay Packers were the unstoppable result. As he starts up the concrete stairs to the front doors he feels a little dagger of a shot of pain to his knee. It was just another sign of spending endless hours day after day and night after night on his feet. No big deal. To serve and protect was worth every minute on his feet. It was his duty to serve. But, it was a little reminder that he was almost forty years old and was about to have a new baby in the house. His 3 year old was already keeping him and Mary Ann very busy. The boy just had so much energy. B.R. thinks to himself, “I hope this one is a little bit more laid back.” He grins and keeps up the stairs. As he approaches the door it comes swinging wide open. A young man in his late teens or early twenties stops in his forward moving gate and within a snap he has turned on a dime and stands holding the door open. Bobby notices the action, sizes the kid up, black leather jacket, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and oddly, some very nice boots. The lad nods his head as Bobby walks through the door with a respectful, “Sir.” Bobby gives a nod back as he looks the boy in the eyes. That fraction of a second, that glance, even that slight glance, a bolt like lightning goes through Bobby’s chest. Not painful but more like water or spirit or a perfect breeze. His eyes go back forward as he debriefs the encounter. Those boots. They were the same style that Bobby had seen the governor wearing at the gala the previous week. This kid? With the leather? Those boots? “Damn I’m poor” Bobby whispers out loud. If it weren’t for the side money from working the gala and the little bit he received from the lawyer, he wouldn’t even had been able to put food on the table this week. And he’ll be bringing home a new baby boy today. “Why me Lord? Why me?” he asks into the sky.