Conversation · Esprit de Corps

You know what it is. It's like the two of you know each other. Just ask him.

"Tell me the truth, do you know me from somewhere?"

"Oh, I definitely know you from somewhere."

Another life...

"From where? From another life?"

"Yes. From another life. A different life. Maybe the life of a police officer belonging to the ranks of the..." He pauses.

"To what station do you think you would belong in this alternate and totally fictional reality?"

"Never mind, this is stupid."

"Stupid is a gross understatement." You feel his eyes behind the shades mapping you out.

"How about 41? How does 41st sound?" He shakes his head. "Never mind, I'm not going along with this..."

"Forty-first?"

"Okay, okay!" The man sounds genuinely excited. "That's plausible. That's entirely plausible. Now we're really getting somewhere..." He gives you a long, meaningful look and adds:

"...somewhere good."

"99,999,999.9th?"

"That's..." The man looks extremely surprised. "...exactly right! Down to a fraction."

"Really?"

"No, not really." He let's the silence drag out.

"Sixty-nine."

He seems to be observing you through the reflective glass of his eye-wear. There's no reply. Perhaps repeat it?

"Sixty-nine."

Repeating it gets no reaction from the man with sunglasses. Suddenly the world is very quiet. Even the howling wind outside sounds a bit embarrassed.

"Fifty-seventh?"

"I think even in this fictional reality, the 57th would still be my station." The lieutenant makes a little nod towards the man with sunglasses.

"My condolences," the man with sunglasses replies dryly.

"Go ahead," he nods. "Have another guess."

"Good job, that was very close." He now speaks with the tone of a mother helping her kid take first steps. "Maybe try again?"

"No need for the sarcasm."

"I don't even know what to say to that..." he shakes his head. "What is your god damn station?"

There's something that binds you to him. Some kind of an outfit maybe...? A uniform!

A firefighters uniform?

Exactomundo!

I don't think he's a firefighter. I'm not gonna ask that.

Of course, you don't have to. You can talk about anything you want.

"I'm going to ask you straight: are you or have you ever been a firefighter?"

"Well that depends," the man with sunglasses says tilting his head. "Define fire."

"Stop it, Jean..." she says quietly and turns to you. "No, he has never been a firefighter. No one here is a firefighter."

An animal control uniform?

The police of animals, yes!

That doesn't sound right. I don't wanna say it.

Of course, you don't have to. You can talk about anything you want.

"Listen, don't make anything out of it, but do you work for Animal Control?"

"Well, I am interacting with the most dangerous animal of them all -- you -- I'd say yes. I'm animal control."

"You think I'm dangerous?"

"To yourself -- yes, extremely."

She sighs and looks at you with something akin to compassion in her eyes. "Can we help you with something?"

"You're making fun of me."

"Oh you know me... always the joker -- just can't but see the bright side." He's doing a weird dance imitation with his elbows. "Guess I'm just pathologically a glass is half-full kind of guy."

"Whatever works for you."

"Nothing works for me, that's the problem, buddy." He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "Whatever, I don't really care."

"Oh, you're still here," he says, opening his eyes. "Must have had something really important for me?"

"Weren't you depressed or something?"

"Seven years and going strong!" He nods enthusiastically. "The head doctors are now calling it a medical marvel... no, wait, anomaly was the word they used."

"But as you're still staring at me like a calf stares at a freshly made gate... I assume there was something else."

This guy is suffering from clinical depression. And it's been going on awhile.

I understand, the uniform is metaphorical -- I'm actually seeing the working class, right?

Uh... I want to say... yes? I think.

"Level with me here for a second... are you working class?"

"Fucking politics again... You know what I'm more interested in?"

"Me solving the case of the hanged man?"

"You solving the case you're on." He takes a quick breath. "I'm passionate about that. So maybe -- get to it?"