Who Is Willy?
Rachael
“Alright. I am going to patrol and do the 4:30PM eviction.” I turn to leave the room.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Jake asks as I head for my cruiser.
“No. I don’t want you to do anything with me.” I snark at him.
“Yes, I wonder why I am the only person in this town you haven’t dropped your pants for.”
“I’m sure you consider that an insult, but I consider it a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?” he asks snidely as I open my car door.
“Why I don’t like you.” I shut the car door and checked my radio. “10-11 #3668 on duty.”
“10-4 3668.” Dianne responds.
I pull my cruiser out of the parking lot and head out on patrol. The streets all look the same here. Red Ridge is an old mining town. The town itself has been steadily declining as the population becomes older, and the younger generation runs for the hills. There is a steady tourist season with the mountains being a few miles away. It is one patrol I enjoy doing.
An hour and a quarter of driving around later, I am at 1287 West Broadway getting ready to serve the judges notice to vacate the property immediately.
On a property that looks like it should be condemned.
“Hello, I am Officer Sinclair. I have the judges' order. Are you JoAnne Walford?”
“Yes, I am, and this is my husband. He is the one that spoke on the phone to you.”
“Yes, hello. I’m going to get this started. Please stay back here on the sidewalk.” I turn and walk up the sidewalk that you can barely see through the weeds.
This will be a nightmare.
I knocked three times. “Red Ridge PD, open up.” I stand back, waiting as I hear murmuring within the house. The door flies open and a man with a mullet stands in the doorway, holding a beer.
It is always the mullets that give you a hard time.
“Yeah, Yeah, we know…. We know, it’s time to go! Whoopty freaking doo doo…” He slurs his words before he tilts his can back and starts to chug it.
I reach back and flick my clasp off my taser.
I know if I tase Reggie, I will be drinking with him in a few days.
What a life.
“I have the final judge's order, Reggie. You must be out right now, you, Betty and your stuff.”
“We know. You see my bag is packed. Damn woman, I thought you were cool. You ain’t all right at all…You are a damn skank, That’s what you are, I’ll tell you what.” Reggie stumbles and slurs.
“Get your shit and get out now before you get thrown in cuffs.” I watch as Betty comes up to stand behind him, looking like she is going to have a coronary. However, my patience is hungover.
“FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT HUH…FOR WHAT?” Betty grabs hold of her husband’s arm as he leaves the house and steps into my space.
“BACK UP REGGIE OR GET TASED!” I yell but Reggie doesn’t listen, and now I have a shit ton of more paperwork to do.
Thanks Reggie.
I deploy my taser into his thigh after he advances on me again. Reggie’s body stiffens, and he falls hard, thudding against the ground as his wife screams in the background. “10-32 one unit needed to 1287 West Broadway. 10-15, with taser deployment. Intoxicated male, Reggie Walters.” I say into my radio as I straddle Reggie’s back, cuffing his while he yells and his wife screams.
I use my pliers and rip the tasers out of Reggie’s legs and pull him off the ground. “This is all your fault bitch. I’m suing you and your husband!” Reggie yells at the homeowners he was supposed to be paying rent to. “Keep walking Reggie.” I nudge him toward my car.
A few minutes later Jake pulls up and takes over the arrest as I finish the eviction process. “Public intoxication, obstruction,” I say as I pass him on. “Didn’t pat him down. I have to finish the eviction.”
“Thanks for the work.” Jake kicks Reggie’s legs apart and starts patting him down. “Do you have anything that will stick me, poke me, Reggie?” Jake asks, sliding his hands up and down Reggie’s legs.
“I’m going to sue this whole damn town you stupid spick…” I turn and leave Reggie with Jake. He thinks he is insulting me but using a racial slur when he does not even know what race I am.
Ignorant.
I walk pass JoAnne and her husband, back to Betty who is walking around the kitchen in circles. I entered the premises. “Betty, get the rest of your stuff, you need to leave. I have a copy of the judge’s order.”
“I don’t want it! I can’t find Willy!” Betty exclaims, looking under the table and pulling open one of her garbage bags.
“Who is Willy?” I ask, confused. There should not be any others living here, but it would not be the first time. On the reservation, some homes had occupants in double digits.
“My pet raccoon!” Betty yells at me, like I should have assumed.
“Pet racoon…. Of course. You need to find the raccoon before I do. You know I will have to call the DNR.”
“Haven’t you done enough? You tased my husband and kicked us out of our house!”
“You already knew this was coming. There are notices all over your door, and you have been served multiple court dates.” I would know, I double as a process server in this town.
A weird trilling sound startles me, and I turn to see a giant, plus-sized raccoon on top of the fridge, knocking shit down and causing it to break on the kitchen floor. This place is a dump. I don’t understand why they just don’t give it to Reggie and Betty to do themselves a favor.
“Grab your coon Betty and get out while I’m looking away, so I do not have to call the DNR.”
“Too bad it is on your body cam. I’m going to get that and sue you anyway!” Betty exclaims, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she pulls her raccoon off the fridge and grabs the red handle of a trash bag stuffed full, pulling it behind her.
“We don’t have body cams, Betty. Too small of a town. You can file a lawsuit against the police force. It is within your right.”
“It will just be your damn word against ours.”
“See you tonight, Betty. I will buy you a drink,” I say, giving her a practiced smile.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see ya later.” Betty leaves with her raccoon and I nod at the owners.
“The property and all that are within it are now yours.” I gesture back toward the house while Betty carries her raccoon down the sidewalk.
“Thank you, officer, Sinclair.” I smiled at them. A fake one I have perfected through the years. How it brings anybody comfort, I will never understand. I look like a soul-less troll with bags under my eyes and a pounding headache currently.
I need some water.
I climbed into my car, ready to finish patrol. I pressed my radio on my shoulder to let the dispatcher know I was finished with the eviction. “Officer 3668 is 10-98 and heading out on patrol.”
“10-4 3668.”
I drive along the streets of Red Ridge looking at the same houses and businesses and drive over the same potholes I do every day. The sun is starting to go down, which means that the day drinkers AKA day walkers, as I call them, should be winding down and becoming angry, old menaces soon.
I took the highway out of town to do our border patrol. The mountain range is close, as well as Cave State Park and Yellowstone. The smaller state parks have seen a drastic cut in their game warden and park ranger count due to budget cuts, and the state park within our county plot lines has no staff whatsoever.
So, it is up to us.
The sun starts to set when a group of elementary-aged kids are standing in the middle of the highway, holding sticks and waving their arms wildly, obviously wanting help. “This is #3668, I have a 10-23, possible 10-67 children on Highway 308.” I radio dispatch to let them know that I need them on standby. Hopefully it is a hurt animal and not a hurt kid.