Getting Home

Getting Home Part 4

SEAN

"1-Adam-12, report your 20."

Sean keyed the microphone. "1-Adam-12 going 10-7B for about 20."

"10-4. Report when back."

Sean sighed heavily as he placed the microphone back in the holder. That had been a bad one, alright. He was still a rookie, and this was without a doubt the worst he had seen yet. Dead homeless guy in an alley off Henry Ave. But not just dead...

Torn apart.

By a big caliber gun? Who knew. That was for the CSI crew and coroner to figure out. But Sean was shook... bad.

Maybe you just aren't cut out for this, big guy.

He tried to shrug it off. His training officer, Officer Malloy, had told Sean to take the cruiser for a break while he stayed behind to finish cataloguing evidence. Sean knew he should have refused, should have stayed. Should have been tough. Not show weakness. Be a man.

But...

Sean knew he'd be seeing that headless pile of gore and meat in his dreams for the rest of his life.

His face burned hotly now, out of shame, embarrassment... but the worst part was he felt like he was about to start crying.

You weakling. You baby.

At least his father wasn't around to be ashamed of him.

The early morning sun was just cresting over the houses as Sean turned the cruiser onto his street, the yards covered in frost, the cars in driveways glittering and sparkling light orange from the rising sun hitting their ice-covered sheets. He figured he would stop by home real quick, see his mom one more time and say goodbye before she left for her trip.

Running home to mommy, huh baby?

Ava's car was in the driveway—but something was off. It took him a moment to realize what was different.

Part of the Civic wasn't sparkling and glittering in the sun.

Great job Ava, you left your window down all night.

He sighed. That girl's head was always in the clouds. Always singing, always dreaming, always talking about far-flung fantasies. Sean wished she'd pay more attention to what was going on around her—to reality. He couldn't imagine how Ava would ever survive out on her own.

But the last thing Dad would have ever wanted was somebody crushing her dreams.

Especially her own brother.

Sean pulled up next to the Civic in the driveway. He sighed again, opening his door and getting hit with the frosty, biting air as he stepped out, his breath instantly turning to steam. He took one step, glancing at the Civic, then—

Wait, is that a person—

A sudden flurry of small birds burst from the open car window, enveloping him in a cloud of fluttering and flapping wings, chirping and squawking frantically filling his ears. Sean crouched down, instinctively covering his head as the cyclone of feathers and beaks whirled around his head, and then they were gone as quickly as they had come.

Sean looked up to watch the small swarm of birds fly off. What the hell...?

Then he remembered there was guy sitting in—

Ava suddenly burst out of the front door, a blanket in her arms and envelope in her hand. She sprinted down the little cement path and around the front of the Civic and skidded up to Sean.

"Ava, what the hell are you—"

"Hey, big bro," she said, her voice high and... nervous? "What are you doing home so early? Oh, I see you've met my friend!" She tossed the blanket in his Sean's hands without waiting for a response.

Sean caught the blanket reflexively, his brain wrapped up in a pure confusion that was only growing. Dead homeless guy, strangers in his little sister's car, birds flying around his head, Ava acting super-weird with this crazy energy. He had always been complimented for his quick thinking, but that suddenly seemed like the farthest thing possible to achieve within his capabilities right now.

It felt like his brain had broken.

"I—um..." Sean had to concentrate for a moment. "I was stopping by to wish Mom a good trip, but what is going on here? Do you know what just came out of your—"

"Oh, I think Mom is still asleep!" Ava said, now sprinting around the rear of the car and back up to the driver's side. "That's okay, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, tell her I said 'bye' too, gotta get to school now!"

"Aren't you on Winter break? And why am I holding this damn blanket? Ava, wait—"

Ava was already in the driver's seat and putting the key in the ignition. Sean bent down to catch a look inside the open window and spied the broken tempered-glass shards scattered inside.

"Ava, the window is broke! What happened?"

"Oh nothing, probably just some punk kid hooligan," Ava said quickly, the old Civic sputtering to life. Sean had tried to convince Ava they could get her a new car, but she refused to listen. "Not a big deal, I'll have Jorge fix it for me, thanks and tell Mom I love her, love you too 'k byeeee!"

The transmission whined and whirred as she backed out of the driveway. Sean caught a glimpse of Ava's passenger—a gangly, skinny kid with blondish-brownish hair peering back at him, a face with sharp features and a little "edge" to it, open and friendly enough... but then...

The kid's eyes flashed silver.

Sean blinked, twice—to only see light blue eyes looking back at him. Maybe the morning light?

Or maybe just the craziness of this entire morning.

Sean looked down at the blanket he was holding, and sighed. It was going to be a loooong day.

The radio on Sean's shoulder chirped.

"1-Adam-12, you need to get back to the station... now."