21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

The Dreaded Return of Russell Buckins: Tom's Version

Late February 1989
Tom's POV

I took the first flight out to San Francisco to have a conversation with my dear friend, Russel Buckins. I wanted to kill him.

I was suspended from Jump Street because of an article that he wrote which exposed my entire department. Everyone was livid with me, and my career was on the line. I was determined to bring him back with me so he can clear my name to the review board.

I had called Mickey from the airport when I landed at San Francisco with the request to pick me up later tonight. I didn't plan on spending more than a few hours here at the most. She was kind enough to agree, and I finally went to the hotel that I was told he was going to be at.

From the airport, I took a cab to the hotel. When we pulled up, I could barely believe how massive it was. From the outside, it looked like a castle. It was a beautiful building with great architecture.

The garden that surrounded the hotel was ravishing and the greenery was bountiful with colorful plants and flowers. The only trees I recognized were the Douglas firs, because they were the largest. I wished I had time to further explore the gardens, but I knew I didn't. I'd just have to come back someday soon.

The cab driver asked me if I was part of the wedding, because there was some big wedding that they have been having parties for at the hotel all week. I told him that I wasn't. I haven't even heard of the name of the girl getting married, but my mind was on one thing: finding Russell. I told the cab driver to keep the car running because I would be right back.

I was able to slip into the hotel, and it's as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. My mouth was agape as I admired the hotel, I've never seen anything like this in Metro. The interior was lavish with oak and rosewood panels, there was a baronial fireplace, teak floors, and glamorous lighting fixtures I've never seen before. I bet that they're original. Even the people were high class. Everyone was dressed like they were going to meet the Queen of England. I looked down at my drab jeans and felt completely underdressed.

As I was looking around, a man asked me, "may I help you?"

My focus snapped to him and I walked up to him. I lied and said, "I'm here for the party."

The older gentleman wearing a white tuxedo looked me up and down and said, "have you an invitation?"

I cleared my throat as I tried to think of an excuse. "Invitation? Hey, you know what, I left it in my hotel room."

I tried to walk past the man but he put his hand on my chest to stop me. "Most unfortunate. I could look through the guest list, Mister, uh?"

Before I could answer, an older man from the nearby staircase called out, "Robert Wendell, is that you, boy?"

His voice was high and excited as he came trotting down the stairs and over to us. "Oh, it must be fifteen years if it's a day. Come with me. We'll say hello to Elizabeth. She will be thrilled. It's absolutely uncanny how closely you resemble your grandfather."

Who is Elizabeth? You know what, I don't care. Thank God this senile old man thought he recognized me. Through the praise, I smiled cheekily at the man who was about to throw me out of the hotel. He did not look pleased.

"Yes, it's the same face," he said. His voice sounded like someone from a Disney movie.

"You know, I get that all the time," I said and followed the man. He was my ticket to finding Russell. As he dragged me away, I asked, "listen, by any chance have you run into a guy named Russell Buckins?"

He completely ignored my question and he stopped to point at a man who was wearing a black tuxedo, carrying a drink and talking to people as he walked past. "Oh, excuse me, Wendell, that's George Woodhouse."