Summer - 21. Streets of Fire

“Thanks for the ride, Papa.” CJ took off his helmet and secured it to the sissy bar, behind the passenger seat. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”

“You’re welcome. Hope you have a good first day.” Brett flipped down the visor on his helmet, took the motorcycle out of neutral, and turned the throttle a couple of times making the Harley roar. The bike surged forward as he released the clutch. His next stop was the Pentagon.

Once alone, CJ turned around and looked up at his new school with a smile on his face. Walls, located on the campus of George Washington University, consisted of two buildings: a nineteenth-century historic structure, and a twenty-first-century modern one. This was where he would be spending the next three years of his life.

“Bro! That’s a mad ride! Is that your dad? He’s a soldier?” CJ pulled his gaze away from the school and turned his head to look at the guy talking to him.

“Hell no! He’s a marine. And yeah, he’s my dad, and the bike is hot as hell. Are you into motorcycles? Hey, I’m CJ.” The boys bumped fists as CJ checked out his new acquaintance. A tall, slim, shirtless guy, wearing D&C kicks, and orange shorts, with the top band of his boxers showing. A green shirt stuck out of the back pocket of his cargo shorts. He had a ball cap on backward, headphones around his neck, and held a brightly colored skateboard. A bunch of fabric and leather bracelets on both wrists completed his attire.

“Hey, bro. Yeah! I grew up around motorcycles, love them things. I’m Harley. I don’t recognize you. You must be new. Where’d you come from? What are you, a junior or a senior? I’m a sophomore. This is my second year at Walls.” Harley was a bundle of energy. He moved around constantly as he talked; hands, arms, and legs were in motion at all times.

“Dude! Slow down!” CJ started laughing at motor-mouth, he liked this kid. “Yeah, I’m new here. I moved from Miami at the beginning of the summer, and I’m also a sophomore. How many energy drinks already?”

“You’re a sophomore? Bro, you look―”

“CJ! It’s so good to see you again. Welcome to Walls. And it’s nice to have you back, Harley.” Principal Edwards was out in front of the main entrance welcoming students, she squeezed CJ’s shoulder as she greeted him. The remainder of Harley’s comment was lost in the exuberance of the greeting by the African-American woman.

“Bro, you know the principal? How the hell you do that? And she knows your name already? I thought you just moved to Washington.” Harley had put on his shirt before entering the school and was now walking down the hallway, backward, looking at CJ.

“Yeah, I met her over the summer. Her husband is my dad’s boss. She convinced me to apply here.” CJ laughed as Harley ran into the back of a girl, and quickly started apologizing. The girl gave him a dismissive stare but then caught sight of CJ, looked him up and down, and smiled. She and her friends walked away giggling.

“Bro! You got connections! Dope!”

After his initial meeting with Harley, the rest of the day was tame. The two boys were in the same homeroom and the same English class. They ended up together at lunch and Harley introduced CJ to a bunch of his friends.

As he walked towards the bus stop for his ride home, CJ was smiling. He felt good about his first day at Walls. Harley was a fun guy; he was gonna make a good friend.

Adriano prepared the staff schedule for Labor Day weekend at Rogo’s so he would be off work on Friday and Saturday. He had rented a cottage in Ocean City, Maryland for the weekend, and was looking forward to spending two days playing in the sand and surf with his wife and their five-year-old twins. He’d return to Washington Sunday morning so he could be at the bar for the lunchtime crowd. His wife and kids would remain at the beach through Monday afternoon.

Spending time with his family was something Adriano treasured. Sometimes his job prevented him from being home to read the twins a story, before putting them to bed. It was something he planned on enjoying this weekend. Adriano’s compensation, as General Manager of Rogo’s, was extremely generous. The hours were sometimes long and kept him away from his family, but the high salary had allowed him and his wife to have children.

After four years of unsuccessful attempts, Adriano and his wife had turned to in-vitro fertilization. An expensive procedure, but worth it since they both wanted a large family. Their first attempt brought a boy and a girl. Now, five years later, his wife was expecting another boy. He couldn’t wait to hold his second son.

The drive to the Maryland shore, from their home in Falls Church, Virginia, would take about three hours, most of it on US Route 50. Because of the different return times, they were taking both of their cars, Adriano was driving in front, while his wife followed with the twins in her car.

Detective Tom Kennedy was not happy to be working. With a three-day weekend ahead, he’d planned to take Friday off, so he could get the PP ready for the last outing of summer. He and JP, along with their friends, would sail again over the next two or three months, but Labor Day weekend was the traditional end of the season.

Yet, here he sat, in his partner, Walter’s car, headed to Chinatown. They had been working on a case for a few weeks, involving a fencing operation, run out of a Chinese laundry on Eighth Street. One of their sources had given them a lead concerning a truckload of computers being delivered to the laundry. The items described by the snitch, matched goods reported stolen in New Jersey the previous week. Tommy and Walter were on their way to the suspect business, hoping to observe an actual transfer of merchandise.

After the time together over the Fourth of July weekend, Doc and Sean had spent two days in Philadelphia, playing tourist, and enjoying amazing sex. Since then, Sean had been out in California working. The furry redhead was back in New York City and had invited Doc to spend Labor Day Weekend with him. They could catch a couple of shows on Broadway, go out to dinner, and spend their nights enjoying each other.

Doc took a cab from Georgetown to Union Station on Friday morning. The Acela Express would take him to Penn Station, in New York City, in three and a half hours. He wanted the time on the train to think. After the wedding, he and Walter had met for dinner during the week, and then again last weekend. Both men had a few drinks, relaxed, walked back to Doc’s place, and Walter ended up spending the night.

Doc needed to think about the two guys he’d dated since his breakup. He enjoyed his time with both men, who were similar in appearance, yet so different in personality. Walter promised good times and stability; Sean meant wild times and fireworks. Was he ready for a relationship with either one?

The Friday of Labor Day Weekend was designated as a Teacher’s Planning Day and students had the day off. CJ enjoyed his first four days at the new school and was looking forward to the remainder of the school year. Harley was fast becoming a friend. The boy was constantly at CJ’s side, introducing him to people, and showing him the ins and outs of the school campus.

CJ had slept in late and skipped his workout this morning. He’d told his dads he planned to run one of his five-mile circuits, after eating breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen. Following his run, the boy planned on going to the market, it was his turn to cook dinner tonight. He also had to pack an overnight bag; his fathers were taking him on a motorcycle trip along the entire length of Skyline Drive. CJ was looking forward to the trip, and to spending a night in a bed-and-breakfast in Virginia. He wrapped a rainbow print bandana, purchased during Pride, around his forehead, attached an iPod Nano to the waistband of his shorts, inserted earphones in his ears, and set off on his run.

Adriano knew that traffic, on the Friday of a holiday weekend, was always heavy around Washington. On the last such weekend of summer, it could turn into a virtual nightmare. Government offices, and businesses, seemed to empty earlier. People headed home for a weekend with the family, or out of town to the beach or the mountains. The number of vehicles on the road, before normal quitting time increased in proportion. The number of automobile accidents and fatalities was always higher at these times.

Just before crossing the Potomac, Adriano and his wife temporarily switched to the Interstate, to avoid the additional time it would take to drive US Route 50 / New York Avenue, through the District of Columbia. They planned on following I-395 until it split off, and for the next segment, they would drive on I-695. They would make another switch to travel on I-295, before finally rejoining US Route 50 in Maryland. The highways would still be crowded and have a large number of trucks, but it would be faster.

Walter parked his car in the Fire Lane in front of Chopstix. The little mom-and-pop restaurant had a limited menu, but it had good food and large portions. It was a favorite lunch spot for cops. The owners liked having so many police officers around; their neighborhood wasn’t the best area in town. Someone tried to hold up the restaurant one time and was confronted by half a dozen officers. The man was arrested, and meals were on the house that day.

The laundry store Tommy and his partner were interested in, was halfway down the block and across the street. It was easily visible from their position. According to their informant, the goods were being dropped off in a truck for a chemicals supply company. They were to be delivered through the front door, in rolling, canvas laundry bins, like those used in large institutions. The two cops just had to sit and wait.

Doc had enjoyed the two dates he had with Walter the previous week. And the night they spent together had been fun. They seemed to fit comfortably into each other and the sex was solid. But there were no fireworks, as there had been with Sean. Although new to being on the receiving end, he had definitely enjoyed being a catcher for the New York Irishman. The memory brought a smile to his face, made his butt twitch, and had him looking forward to the next few days.

But Sean was ten years younger and lived a couple of hundred miles away. Was Doc ready for a steady relationship so soon after his breakup? Were the muscle car and the muscle stud just signs of a mid-life crisis? And then there was the matter of Sean’s profession. Doc was being honest when he said he had no moral objections to it. But could he be seriously involved with someone in his line of work? As the train arrived in New York, he still had not decided about the future of his relationship with Sean.

About halfway through his run, as he passed the Watergate Complex, CJ whipped off his shirt, now soaked with sweat, and stuck it in the back of his shorts. While still running, he removed the bandanna from his head, wrung it out, and tied it around his head once again. It helped keep the sweat out of his eyes. The high temperature, combined with the high humidity, caused the air to shimmer in front of him. The asphalt and concrete beneath his feet were so hot he felt it through the shoes. It was as if he was running on streets of fire.

The heat and humidity reminded him of the worst days of summer in Miami―funny how he didn’t think of Florida as home anymore. His tanned body glistened in the sunlight due to the perspiration; his size, demeanor, scruffy face, and the hair sprouting on his chest made him look much older than his fifteen years, to anyone watching him run. He was still trying to get used to young kids calling him sir. It made him laugh when they did.

The Interstate’s traffic through Washington resembled a well-choreographed ballet of motorcycles, cars, and trucks. Every vehicle seemed to perform a passé, looking for its right spot, as they traveled east on the Southwest Freeway. Each attempting to move faster than the speed of traffic, or looking to position themselves so they could take their intended exit. Nearing the point where I-395 and I-695 split, Adriano and his wife were traveling on the right lane of the highway when he lost sight of her car. A trailer truck had cut into their lane, taking position between their two automobiles.

He tried slowing down, hoping the trucker would decide to pass him also. Adriano saw the driver attempt a switch to the left lane, where there was a second truck about to overtake him. The shrill horn of that second rig must have surprised the truck driver, he turned sharply to the right, his vehicle went into a skid, and the trailer began to overturn.

Adriano’s wife was unable to stop her car quickly enough; it ran into the overturned, skidding trailer. The screech of braking wheels competed with the noise of crunching metal. The driver’s side airbag deployed, exploded, and sent shrapnel flying, the front bumper and hood crumpled, absorbing some of the impact energy, as the car’s engine partially dropped to the ground after its breakaway mounts tore off as designed to do.

Tommy and Walter were tired of sitting in the car, they decided to get out and stretch their legs, and placed a POLICE DEPARTMENT card on the dashboard, not unusual for cars parked in front of Chopstix. Tommy opened the passenger side door and stepped to the curb while keeping an eye on the suspected fencing facility.

A man wearing a dark gray hoodie, running on the sidewalk, bumped into him and almost knocked him over. There were shouts of “Thief” and “My purse, my purse!” Tommy reached for his gun in the holster beneath his jacket and shouted at the running man. “Stop! Police Officer!”

“Fuck you asshole!” shouted back the man in the hoodie, as he turned with a gun in his hand, and fired two quick shots at the cop. The first bullet hit high, the impact pushing Tommy back against the car, even with most of its force being absorbed by his Kevlar vest. The second one hit his left thigh, as he fell to the sidewalk, hitting his head on the concrete.

As everything was going dark for Detective Kennedy, he heard Walter scream out: "Officer down! Officer down! Need EVAC. Eighth Street Northwest, Chopstix Restaurant."

Doc caught a cab outside Penn Station, for the drive to J. G. Melon. The restaurant, on the Upper East Side, was where a scene, between Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep, was filmed for the movie Kramer vs. Kramer. It was a favorite place for neighborhood residents, well known for its burgers, and three blocks away from Doc’s apartment on Seventy-Sixth Street.

Traffic was good, by New York City standards; the ride took just over twenty minutes with the cabbie taking Madison Avenue up. As the taxi came to a stop, Doc paid the fare with his credit card, took the receipt, and grabbed his backpack. He saw the man waiting for him, and opened the door with a smile on his face.

“Hey handsome, how’s my favorite physician doing?” Sean was waiting outside the restaurant and enveloped Doc in a bear hug as soon as the man stepped out of the cab. The furry stud had a shoulder bag with him, he was spending the weekend with Doc, in his apartment.

“Well, that’s a welcome… You’re looking great as usual, Sean. Damn you’re a sexy fucker. I’ve been looking forward to this weekend.” The two men broke their embrace and stood for a minute, looking and smiling at each other.

“So have I, Doc.”

“Are you hungry? I’m ready for some lunch.” Doc had decided to enjoy his weekend with Sean and to have a serious conversation with the younger man before returning home to Washington.

“Hell yeah, I can always eat. I wasn’t sure what show you’d wanna see tomorrow night. We need to figure it out so I can make some calls to get us tickets.”

“I guess you have connections?”

“Let’s say there are quite a few theatre people who I’ve closely worked with in the past.”

“I bet!” They were walking towards their table, following the hostess, when Doc’s phone started ringing.

“That’s an attention-grabbing ringtone.” Sean smiled at the European-style, emergency vehicle siren, playing from the inside pocket of Doc’s coat.

“That’s my emergency tone. It means a call from the private number in the office. Excuse me a minute, Sean, I need to take this call.” Doc placed his black leather backpack on the floor next to his chair, pulled the phone out of his pocket, and stood by the table without taking a seat.

“Hello? Hi, buddy.” Doc moved the phone away from his mouth and whispered to Sean: “My office manager.” His mood suddenly turned serious, and he almost collapsed onto the chair next to him. “Fuck! When did it happen? He’s at GW Hospital? Is my partner there already? Okay, I’ll be there as soon as possible, I’m leaving now.”

“What’s going on, babe?” Sean showed concern at the agitation in his friend’s voice.

“I’m sorry, Sean, but I need to go back to Washington now. Tom Kennedy’s been shot.”

CJ ran, following the Rock Creek Park Trails, until he reached the Arlington Memorial Bridge. He slowed down as he crossed it, heading west into Virginia. Pedestrian traffic was heavy on the sidewalk, and the number of cars zooming by didn’t allow him to pass people by taking to the road. Once he was on the other side of the Potomac, he turned north in front of Arlington National Cemetery.

He followed Arlington Boulevard, heading towards the Iwo Jima Memorial, turning into the driveway which circled the imposing statue. As he rounded the monument, heading towards the wooded area behind it, he almost ran into a muscular Asian man, limping around, bent over, while holding his right calf.

“Hey, man, are you alright?” CJ jogged in place as he talked to the grimacing guy. He noticed the man’s shirt was not wet with sweat and assumed he’d just begun his run.

“Bad cramp, buddy.”

“You need any help?” CJ stopped moving and approached the other runner, wondering if there was anything he could do for the man.

“I just need to walk it off… Maybe I could lean on you so I don’t fall over?”

“Sure, here, put your arm around me.” CJ wrapped his left arm around the muscular man’s waist and leaned into him to support his weight.”

“GET THE CAR, WE GOT ANOTHER ONE!” The Asian man grabbed the arm encircling his waist, swiveled around, and twisted it upwards against CJ’s back. He used his foot to push on CJ’s knees from the back, making the boy stumble, fall to the sidewalk, and scrape his skin. The man put his knee in CJ’s back, brought the teen’s other hand around, and secured his wrists with a plastic tie he retrieved from his shorts.

“What’s going on, man? Let me go!”

“You’re not going anywhere but jail, faggot. Officer Xin Gray, and you just tried to molest a member of the Arlington Police Vice Squad. You’re under arrest.”

The End