My day started off the same as any other day when I went to work. I drag myself out of bed in the dark, trip over whatever is on the floor on my way to the bathroom, usually shoes. Today it was my badge and i.d. It was a cold, dark, and sleepy, winter morning and not exactly being a morning person I was lucky and I didn’t fall and crack my head on the night table. I hop in the shower, skip washing my hair because it takes too long to dry, and get dressed with one eye open. I was always running late, rushing out the door forgetting my case files, gulping down my breakfast, and now I had to remember to pick up my badge off the floor. Then I sit in traffic on the LIE on the way into New York City and curse the cars, in front of me, that wouldn't get out of my way so I could go fight crime.
I was a detective solving narcotics cases at the 18th precinct on the lower west side for the past 16 years. I mostly worked on cases busting big time drug pushers. Dangerous work, but someone had to do it. The only problem was I was done doing it and ready for a change. I had four years left until I retired so I wanted to take my career in a different direction and work towards becoming a child psychologist. I realized a transfer to Special Victims Unit (SVU) would help me get a foot in.
Since the politics at the 18th were getting in the way of doing actual police work, I put in my transfer, much to my boss' dismay, “What are you doing that for, you know if you don’t like it, you’re not comin’ back here.” “Yeah, thanks for your support, boss, good riddance.” Then I headed further up town to Harlem, 125th Street, SVU. I left behind my old neighborhood and headed for the department that solves crimes kids are involved in as either the victim or the perpetrator.
The new precinct was cleaner and much nicer than my old precinct. The office was like a real office, professional and everything was in order. It had a lush carpet, central air-conditioning, office supplies, neat desks and fresh air blowing through the vents. There were computers and printers as well. Compared to my office on the lower west side, which was run down and grey, this was a nice environment conducive to working.
The dread that began to fill me at the 18th subsided when I finally committed to changing precincts. The challenge I immediately faced, was being attracted to my boss, Sergeant Lance. He was tall, dark and looked like he didn't play by the rules. I liked his rough exterior and commanding tone. “Hey you, rookie, yeah I’m talking to you. This is Jules, show her around and make sure she has whatever she needs.” A total bad ass. I was completely mesmerized by his piercing dark yellowish-brown eyes and rough-around-the-edges exterior. Despite all of this, I managed to keep my composure and did not give myself away, but for a first meeting my feelings surprised me. I am not the head-over- heels type of woman, so I vowed I would talk myself out of this instant attraction.
The last thing I would want to do is hurt my impeccable reputation. When you mostly work with men it's easy to get messed up by being attracted to the wrong guy. And the sergeant was definitely the wrong guy, since he was my boss. When that happens the gossiping that takes place is unrelenting, that it's so not worth acting on desires. On top of that, if any of the other guys had a clue the unmerciful teasing I would have to endure, would be unbearable at best. This was one of those times where I had to suppress any undeniable feelings I felt welling up inside of me. I ended up spending my first few months at SVU avoiding my boss, so I could concentrate on my work rather than be distracted by him.
The first few cases I had solved were easy as my new boss wanted to ease me into SVU. I thought, "Not so bad ass after all." I quickly found out that many of the kids reporting crimes are fibbers and most of them are afraid they will get into trouble with their parents for staying out too late or sleeping around so they create stories that don't hold up. Sifting through all of the crap is such a waste of time and so annoying because there are actually kids who are suffering and need help. There should be a sentence for lying to get out of being punished.
After I had been at SVU for a few months, one scorching summer day, when I'd rather be at the beach basking in the sun drinking cranberry and vodka cocktails, I received a call where a man reported seeing teenagers being abused. My partner was out that day, so I picked up the kids and interviewed them. Right away, I knew they were telling the truth about their twisted circumstances. Their situation caused emotions in me that I never thought I had. It was one of the most disturbing cases I ever worked on and the shock of hearing what happened to these children was the only reason I didn't have a complete melt down. By the time, I picked up and interviewed the perpetrator I was an emotional wreck inside. Death by torture would have been too good of a punishment for this excuse of a man.
The children were siblings who were given away by their mom and tortured by their captor. The girl, Skye, was 16 and her brother, Peter was 14 at the time their neighbor called the police to report an incident where he saw, who he thought was the boy's father, put his head in a bucket of water until he passed out while he made his sister watch. The neighbor happened to be fixing his leaky roof and witnessed the sick man hurt this boy, while Skye had to stand by and do nothing.
When I interviewed Skye and Peter, the bucket incident was the least of their torture. Skye had to deal with much worse and suffer in silence because she feared her captor would kill Peter if she told anybody anything. The girl had two children by this creep, who were sold to families willing to adopt them. Skye and Peter were so traumatized that their lack of emotion when describing their horrible lives made it all seem worse than it already was. The tales of beatings that went on for years were so gut-wrenching to hear, it was inconceivable that they survived at all. It was also very disconcerting that no one else in their neighborhood noticed these kids were so mistreated for so long.
My sergeant was listening and watching me interview these kids through the two-way glass. When he got a hold of the perpetrator he knocked a few of the sleaze's teeth out and broke his nose. If I didn't intervene he would have hurt him more, which I really didn't care about, I just didn't want the case to be tainted. This sicko got way with enough already. That was the first time he got caught and a witness picked him out of a line up. He was going down.
The violence that Skye and Peter had endured for most of their lives would cause me to have nightmares for a long time after the case ended. Their resilience was amazing and truly admirable as they had remained close through this entire ordeal. They looked out for each other and were slowly healing while they created a new life for themselves. The horror of this case caused me to re-evaluate my own life and I decided what I really desired.
These kids' circumstances gave me a new perspective and my focus had shifted from my sergeant to me. I knew it would be foolish to pursue feelings that I wasn't even sure about for a man who is my boss. There was very little upside that I could see in that scenario. He may not be interested and then the awkwardness would be ridiculous or we would have to hide our relationship until we were discovered. The downside was that it could ruin me professionally at SVU, he would survive it, the men always do; but I wouldn't be able to recover. I decided that what was important to me was to complete my degree in Child Psychology, while at SVU. My job experience fighting crime and working with children would enable me to help kids in a profound way. When I retire at 40 I will be starting over, but not really.
No comments:
Post a Comment