Sitting in the dimly lit room of my home office with only the bitter glow of the monitor lighting my way I gazed out the window at the falling rain...my thoughts sliding into him. Chuckling to myself. I don't know how it began...but every time the rain begins to plummet from the heavens I think of him. The way he comes to me -- just appearing -- pulling me through to the other side. I get lost in the reality of him and the unknown. My thoughts anchored, harboring in my heart.
Looking down at the over sized Tag on my left wrist, 2200 hours...seems like just minutes ago instead of the hours, that I was walking through Digi-Cop-Land-Headquarters, pausing briefly outside Commander Stargirl's office to grab a cup of coffee, thicker then the vapor that roamed the city tonight, plopping myself down in a chair opposite her desk.
"Damn it La Fay," Star hissed "When was the last time you slept? You look like hell. Go home, eat something and for Christ sakes, and get some rest, I don't want to see you until 900 hours tomorrow - that's an order."
I left the wretched coffee on the edge of her desk, eased my way down the hall, hopped in to my unmarked vehicle, sunglasses covering the dark circles under my eyes, threw the car into gear and drove home.
Listening to the rain tapping down on the windows now, I pushed myself away from my desk, rubbing away at the sleep that called to me, crossing the room, Jersey my chocolate lab lifted her head briefly watching me, slipping into my worn leather jacket and headed outside to clear my head. Opting for my own car, I slipped behind the wheel of my Saab, cruised down the street in the direction of Syd's. Moments later I slowed the car down shifting into second...pausing, from the looks of the gathering of cars outside Syd's I could see all the regulars were there tonight, the heavy door swung open as more trickled inside, through the open door I could see Glenda behind the bar and Perky sauntering across the room with a tray of drinks in hand, Detective Logan's unmarked vehicle in his regular parking spot --- No Parking Zone.
Accelerating I shifted quickly into third, cruising down the street for a different comfort tonight. A few blocks away "Mother's" sat. An old family Irish pup. Parking my car outside I swung open the heavy oak door, rich smells hit me hard. I clutched at the rising ache in my stomach. Patrick O'Malley was busy at work behind the bar when he saw me.
"Well good heavens, look at you child! Joey!" He hollered through the adjoining kitchen door at his brother, "The Good Lieutenant is here to see us!" His rosy cheeks grinned at me, "How are you darlin?" A faint echo of his Irish accent swimming around me.
"I'm doing ok Patty," a wearisome smile flirted on my lips.
"Well love, you look like hell," he leaned back once more to yell through the door, "Joey! Bring a bowl of stew for Morgaine," pouring me a fresh cup of coffee, he placed it along side the steaming bowl, "there, you eat that now." His old eyes twinkling at me, he knew just what I had needed.
"Thanks Patty," I whispered, secretly wishing everyone would stop telling me I look like hell today...Absently I spooned at the rich broth full of vegetables, spices and meat - the rumble in the pit of my stomach growing silent after the first few bites.
Old-Blue-Eyes sang out from a little old fashioned radio positioned behind the bar. Joey and Patty were constantly arguing over who was better...Frank or Tony? It was a sure thing...you were going to listen to one of the greats while you were at Mother's. From my place at the cherry wood bar I could hear balls cracking and sinking from the pool tables in the back. At the far end of the bar regulars were parked in the same corner they had sat at for the last 30 years. Drinking their whiskey and beer and telling their fine tales. I laughed to myself, thinking on how those stories change just a little bit every time they were retold, but they were good ones all the same.
Finishing the last of the stew, I went behind the bar, placed a few bills in Patty's hand kissing him on the cheek, walking through the kitchen door to say good night to Joey and thank him for the hospitality.
