Baby Bones. Donan Ph.D. Berg

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СКАЧАТЬ after a detour to lock Webster into sister’s backyard, arrived last for the strike preparation meeting in the Sheriff’s Office main interrogation room. The chair to the right occupied by Deputy Bonnie Walsh, the newest member at two years. To his left sat a ramrod Sergeant Paul Anderson and across the table from Jonas the craggy face of Sergeant Elmer Cannon.

      Jonas gazed into Sgt. Cannon’s eyes. “If the union strikes, it will mean long hours requiring physical ability to respond at a moment’s notice. This will be a great challenge for all of us.” Jonas harbored doubts about Sgt. Cannon. Four years previous an escaping robbery suspect’s bullet had broken Elmer’s left thighbone. Surgery helped, but the leg never quite recovered.

      “Don’t you worry about me,” Elmer said. “If I can handle a sick grandchild for twenty-four hours, I can be a nursemaid to whiny strikers.”

      “Didn’t say you couldn’t. Tried to emphasize it would be a challenge for all.” Jonas sensed the other two waited for Paul, former sheriff’s selected heir apparent who bypassed special election.

      “You forget these are our neighbors?” Paul asked.

      “Of course not. I’ve a meeting scheduled with Dino, union president, to put emphasis on our neutrality and urge nonviolence.”

      “I’d be careful trusting hotheads like Bill McNamar,” Paul said.

      “We needn’t make snap decisions. Let’s see how it plays,” Jonas replied. While Jonas didn’t challenge Paul possessed the strength the other two lacked, he questioned Paul’s personal dedication and willingness to be a team player. Paul cut corners, did only enough to avoid reprimand. Jonas expected his subordinate would challenge him in the upcoming sheriff primary or general election. Jonas handed out updated duty sheets. “If there’s a strike, this schedule supercedes normal patrols.”

      “Twelve-hour shifts,” Bonnie muttered.

      Jonas noticed Paul reading and shaking head side-to-side.

      Bonnie engaged Jonas’s eyes. “Why?” Her voice pitch higher than normal.

      “Between us here, I’m going to ask Jove Foods to limit in and out truck traffic to between eight a.m. and six p.m. That may allow us to be on call for the overnight twelve hour shift.”

      Elmer leaned closer to Bonnie. “Don’t worry. My wife can baby sit your cute little girl.”

      Bonnie faced Elmer and smiled.

      “We’ll all have to make sacrifices,” Jonas continued. “I understand that. As a temporary backup measure I’ll deputize one of the dispatchers. The state police will be on standby. Today I’ll also notify the National Guard.”

      “Do you think that’s all necessary?” Paul asked. “Seems rather drastic if you ask me. All these Jove Foods employees are our neighbors.”

      “I’ll agree it’s drastic.” Always on guard to deflect any wedge Paul drove into relationships with Elmer and Bonnie, Jonas parsed next words to deliver their common sense reasonableness. He rested both palms on the table and gazed directly at Paul. “We must remember that when the Pottstown meatpacking plant had a strike last year, the picket line tensions overflowed into violence. They weren’t prepared. Arson fires damaged two buildings and spread to the plant roof. A fireman suffered second degree burns. Others hospitalized after breathing toxic fumes released by the fires.”

      “Remember that from last year,” Elmer said. “A trooper friend said town neighbors and plant worker relatives still don’t speak to each other.”

      Jonas nodded. “This second sheet I’m handing out details the rights of strikers and the rights of the company. It’s our role to see that they’re obeyed.” Paul folded in-hand sheet without reading. “There’ll be jeers and vicious slurs. As long as its only talk, keep a low profile. Don’t side with anyone. Play it cool.”

      “Anything else?” Paul asked.

      “No. Be alert and don’t enflame any rumor now floating through town. Between us, expect that we’ll be given advance warning.” Jonas rolled up the bird’s eye layout of Jove Foods printed off the Internet. If notice of a strike came, he’d strategically deploy himself and officers as marked on the map. He left before the others.

      * * *

      Paul rotated head to door and gazed at Elmer when it closed. “If you ask me, Jonas is blowing this all out of proportion. You did right to challenge underhanded accusation you’re too old.”

      “Sixty-five ain’t old. And ... I’ve told Jonas that before.”

      “You’re right,” Bonnie said and squashed comment Elmer led in office sick call-ins.

      “Maybe I limp after that bullet. But last year’s market crash left me not being able to afford to retire. No offense, Bonnie, but my strength to stand between picketers is as great as yours.”

      “Let’s not get into that,” Bonnie replied.

      “He’s only worried about getting elected, if you ask me,” Paul interjected.

      “Let’s not get into that either,” Bonnie said. She suggested they breakup for she didn’t want to drift into discussion about the number of times Jonas claimed her performance justified firing. She realized the unspoken truth that any Jove Foods strike foul-up would torpedo Jonas’s re-election, and the new sheriff would clean house. That happened in Pottstown.

      * * *

      Jonas expected minor grumbling with twelve-hour shifts. The three officers would be happier to vent without him. When the desk phone rang, Jonas arose to close his office door. He promised neighbor Mrs. Longstreet top priority for her barking dog complaint and he or an officer would drive by after dark. At breakfast sister Luann had clued him in on their across-the-street neighbor’s dog complaints. He knew it wasn’t Webster.

      With the earlier call from Melanie Stark, Luann’s words shoved into a mind recess. While petty complaints often irritated him, the tension of an upcoming strike made him appreciate everyday commonplace diversions. He didn’t require voter polls to tell him to be accessible and visible. Rising from desk, he informed the dispatcher he’d be on Main Street, back in minutes.

      Jonas unlocked cruiser to retrieve a jacket. It’s warmth radiated across shoulders as he began long, easy strides. When anxiety gripped him, he fantasized the badge pinned to chest said FBI. While private college grades averaged a B+, six law schools denied admission applications. The state police academy didn’t. He graduated in top ten percent, which salved not earning FBI agent glory.

      “Aye, Sheriff.”

      The shout captured Jonas’s attention. “Reggie, what’s happening?” He greeted Kanosh’s sole grocer and dad’s longtime friend. The Scots and Irish historically on and off friends. The two nationalities probably immigrated to America from Queenstown in the same steerage hold.

      “I’d be thinkin’ you could tell me.” Reggie appeared jittery every time he left store.

      “Looks peaceful. That’s how I like it.” Jonas stopped arms-length from Reggie.

      “I not be a Jove Food store, but they supply me because I’m here. They СКАЧАТЬ