The Valley-Chapter 4

[William Bushman]

Mossier and Bond sat at one of the hard plastic tables on the Tommy's Burger patio. They dined on hot dogs and chili fries under the flickering fluorescent lights as the evening traffic rushed past.
“ Damn, I would seriously kill for one of these things.” Bond said as her teeth snapped into her chili dog.” The hairs are probably standing up on my parents' necks right about now.”
He looked up at her as he stabbed a mound of chili fries with a plastic fork.
“ What do you mean? “
“ My parents are total hippies. You know, all that touchy feely, shit. They don't eat meat, make their own clothes, I grew up on a freakin' commune up in Palmdale, for God's sake.”
“ Really? They have communes in Palmdale? “
“ Yeah. One. Way out in the middle of damned nowhere. Hot as balls half the time. My parents were lawyers, right? I don't know if they smoked too much pot or something one night, but before I was born, they decided that they needed a radical life change.”
She wiped her mouth with one of those cheap, paper towel napkins and took a long sip of Sprite.
“ They just decided that they didn't need to conform to society. They always complained about the “Man” and how they had to “fight the power”. They were rich kids from Woodland Hills. I love my parents, but they're out there, you know? My mom home schooled me. I swear, I didn't wear shoes until I was six.”
“ Sounds like fun.” Mossier replied, his mouth full.
“ Yeah. It was. Until I was 17 and I started making out with this kid who lived up the road and I realized how ass backwards my parents were. I got really pissed when I saw all of the stuff that we did without. Like microwaves and steady electricity and nail polish. So I ran away with this guy. He was a musician and he said he was gonna move to Hollywood and get a record deal and everything so I went with him when I turned 18. My parents let me, too.“
“ They let you run away with some scuzzy musician kid? “
“ He wasn't...okay, he was kinda scuzzy. But yeah, they thought it was great that I was a “free spirit”. I wasn't a free spirit, I was trying to piss them off and it didn't work. The little shit left me after we'd been here a month, so I got a couple of jobs waiting tables and stuff. I worked those kind of jobs until I was 20 and then I saw an ad on the side of a bus “JOIN LAPD”. And I figured that will really piss off my parents. They hated cops.”
Mossier bit into his hot dog.
“ Did it work? “
“ Oh hell yeah. They came down here and tried to drag me back home. We had a huge fight. I didn't go. I made it into the Academy and found out that I really liked it.”
“ So are your parents still mad at you? “
She wiped her mouth, leaving an orange greasy streak on the napkin.
“ No. They just want me to be happy. But they only tell their friends what I do if they really ask them. They live in Tarzana now. They both caught a parasite and decided that maybe they should move back to civilization. They're still total, granola eating tree huggers, though. They just live in a condo now.”
A black and white parked beside their unit and Hubbard and Reyes stepped out.
“ So why did they name you Willie? “ asked Mossier as he shoveled more fries into his mouth.
She leaned forward as the other officers approached.
“ It's short for Willow “ she whispered.” Figures, right? “
“ Andyyyy! “ Reyes called.” Thanks for hooking me up with that video game. My nephew loved it.”
“ Hey, I'm all about the giving.” Mossier smiled.
“ Howdy, Bond.” said Hubbard as he stopped at the table.” Mossier talked your ear off yet? “
“ Damn near.” Bond replied, picking at her fries.
A disheveled looking man sporting a stained trucker cap on top of his afro and wearing a dirty green Army jacket shuffled down the sidewalk and stopped when he saw the four police officers on the patio.
“ Hey, LAPD. I need y'all's help, man. For real.” he said, swaying slightly.
“ What can we do for you, sir? “ asked Hubbard.
“ I got robbed, man.”
“ Who robbed you? “ asked Reyes.” When? “
“ Couple minutes ago.” the man stared at the food on the table.” Damn fool jacked me.”
Hubbard's head dropped. He and his partner weren't going to be eating dinner any time soon.
“ Okay, what did he take? “ he asked, taking the note pad from his back pocket.
“ My weed.”
The four officers looked at him.
“ The guy stole your weed? “ asked Bond as chili dribbled off of her lip.
“ Hell yeah. Look...” the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a couple of crumpled pieces of paper.” Damn fool burned me. Slipped me some fake money for a dime bag. He copied a five at Kinko's. Look at that shit.”
Reyes and Hubbard exchanged glances. Reyes sighed and stretched on a pair of latex gloves.
“ Let me get this straight.” said Reyes.” You sold some knucklehead a dime sack and now, what? You want us to help you get your pot back? “
“ Hell yeah.” the man steadied himself against the wall.” Ask me all these damn questions that bastard's probably half way to Sylmar by now.”
Reyes stepped forward.
“ Sir, do me a favor. Turn around. Put your hands on the wall there, please.”
The grizzled old man grumbled as he turned and pressed his palms to the wall.
“ Ain't this about a bitch.”
Reyes quickly patted him down and pulled two small sandwich bags full of marijuana from the man's coat.
“ Y'all gonna arrest me, huh? “ the man sighed.
“ Yes sir.” Hubbard replied as his partner handcuffed the man.
“ Fine. But you guys gonna go after that asshole that took my weed? “
Hubbard laughed as they marched the man back to their unit.
“ I'll personally call SWAT and get the K-9 units out here.”
“ Shit man. You ain't gotta be a dick about it.” the man mumbled.
“ Hey thanks, guys.” Reyes called over his shoulder to the other officers.” You were a big help.”
“ Hey Code-7, brother.” Mossier replied, pointing to his food.” The most important meal of the day! “
Bond laughed as she picked at her fries.
“ Ya gotta love this division.”

To Be Continued...