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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Fix It - 2. Chapter 2

“Oh, the crap I’ll have to eat for this,” Owen had left off. “It’ll be worse than frat hazing.”

Don laughed to himself, remembering a much younger Owen, miserably squirming on a block of ice. It wasn’t an image he’d share.

“Would they let us take our new stuff?” Ike quietly asked, as always practical.

“I’m sure they’d bargain for it,” Owen said unhappily. “But if we start a list of what we need...”

“And what would fit,” Elena considered. “Remember the building’s landmarked.”

“I’m gonna get my old desk back,” Ike nearly groaned. “It’s gonna come back like Scrooge.”

“It can be fixed,” Elena assured him. “Kris and I fixed mine.”

“And do we really want these new desks?” Jae asked. “Would they look right there?”

“Now she’s a decorator,” Rob cracked.

“Well, think about it.”

“I wasn’t arguing,” he quickly admitted. “Just being a goof.”

“Everything can be fixed,” Don took up. “We never considered that before. And if they’d given us two mil to restore the place, it’d probably be fine. We might even have some left over.”

“Not factoring contractors,” Owen mentioned. “But there’s no way we’re getting any help from the city – no way they’d ever get another bond through. Not in my career.” He grinned at Jae. “Or yours.”

She laughed, knowing she was the youngest.

“Which leaves us where?” Don asked. “Moving back to the building ourselves?”

“Pretty much,” Owen allowed. “But I bet they’d give us time. There shouldn’t be any hurry getting us out of here.”

“Would we have time to fix things up?” Elena asked.

Owen nodded. “As long as we don’t ask for help.”

“Can find volunteers?” Elena followed. “People who know what they’re doing. Or will we have to do everything ourselves?”

“I got dibs on your husband,” Ike joked, “if he fixed your desk.”

Elena laughed. “We fixed my desk. I’m not sure how Kris’d feel about fixing a dozen.”

“Still there are twenty-six of us,” Jae pointed out. “Day. Evening. Night. Weekends. Subs. We all know how to do something, and I’ll bet we know other people who do, too – even if it’s mainly as hobbies. And since this started with the people in town, Elena may be right – they might kick in.”

“Will they help with supplies?” Owen wondered. “Or will we have to raise money for those?”

“That’s a lot of paint,” Don admitted, “for twelve foot ceilings. At least, the conference rooms are higher than they’re wide.”

“But the floors need to be sanded,” Ike said, “and the windows repaned. And the heating system...”

“Needs to be trashed,” Rob cracked.

“We’ll have to compromise on a lot of things,” Owen cut through. “I’m sure we can make the place serviceable – maybe even pretty. But it’ll never look like this.” He glanced around their modern office. “And I’ll bet it takes a year.”

They thought about that.

“Do we really want this?” Owen asked again. “Or should we simply appreciate what we have and let people learn to find us?”

“That’s fine till there’s an emergency and someone dies,” Elena pointed out.

“How often does that happen?” Owen resisted.

“A car wreck on a Saturday night. The usual drunk racing on Mount Tom.”

“Or a drug overdose,” Ike added. “The lawsuit alone would pay for the renovation.”

Owen persisted. “OK – I’ll admit people have rushed into the station. But we know nearly everyone carries a phone.”

“And if someone’s been robbed, and it’s taken?” Elena asked.

“It’s a small town. You knock on the nearest door.”

“It still helps when we’re visible,” Ike went on. “It could save a life.”

Everyone thought again

“So you all want me begging for supplies?” Oven capped.

“Guess so, boss,” Jae said grinning.

“All right.” He sighed and then grinned along with them. “But if this blows up...”

“It won’t,” Elena insisted. “It’s what people want.”

Owen started with the mayor – scheduling a meeting simply to ask his permission.

“You want to do what?” the major yelled.

Owen quietly re-explained and then patiently added and waited – and waited – till the mayor finally began to see even the tiniest advantage. “Well, it would give my office more space.”

“And it’s a great location for you.”

Next, came the city council – who thought Owen was joking till he persisted.

“You’re jerk. You know that, Neland?” one councillor complained.

“I have my bad days,” Owen admitted.

“You have your bad lives. And the next one’s gonna be hell.”

But Owen had made his points and had gotten just enough support, so third came the state representatives and senators.

“This is gonna be a real howler in Boston,” he was warned. “And you’re gonna be the clown.”

“I can stand that,” Owen said quietly. “But will they let us go ahead?”

“Sure – as they play Pin the Tail on your Donkey.”

“We’ll take it,” Owen said smiling.

The reps and senators shook their heads, but mumbled among themselves, “Well, what can you do with civil servants?”

Finally, Owen met with the federal folks, who’d contributed the bulk of funding.

“We put our reputations out there for you,” he was rebuked. “And you crapped all over them.”

“We made an unfortunate decision,” Owen sucked up. “Maybe too quickly after waiting for so many years. And we’d appreciate your giving us a chance to correct it. You can’t imagine how much.”

“Well, we see how little you respect our hard work...”

Owen groveled further. “Unfortunately, you know cops have a long reputation for not being very bright,” he began.

“Don’t be a fool, Neland,” he was brought up sharply. You’ve got a Master’s degree from a good university. Don’t piss on that, too.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Owen replied, all but squaring his shoulders and saluting. But he took it all, and took it further, and when he finally worked his way home from that last meeting, he was beat.

“Was it that bad?” Don asked him privately.

“Diplomacy ain’t my field,” was all Owen allowed. “Especially when I have to take responsibility.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Everyone made me feel that way. They needed someone to blame and pretty much told me to brace against the wall and take my two million whacks.”

“One for each buck?”

“You got it,” and he soon told that to the group, along with, “You really don’t know what you put me through,”.

“Anyone in particular?” Ike asked. “Who we might get to ease back?

“Everyone,” Owen replied. “Anyone who’s ever run for office and been elected. Plus, the fire department – who claimed we made them look like fools – and every minor official from Northampton to Springfield.”

“Why is it their business?” Rob asked.

Owen grinned. “It’s not, really – if this were just about our office. But it’s about future funding. They claim that if voters can say, ‘Look how the Waldron cops wasted two million bucks,’ they’ll be unlikely to give anyone more support. And some of it’s just gossip – something to joke about. ‘Hey! Someone messed up worse than we ever have. Let’s dump on them.”

“Did they give you any backing?” Elena asked. “Or guidelines?”

“Yeah. ‘Never spend another cent again. EVER.’”

Everyone laughed.

“Still, that’s what we expected,” Jae put in. “Or at least hoped for.”

“So we absolutely can’t botch this renovation,” Owen warned.

“But we have permission?” Ike asked.

Owen nodded.

“Look at all the new things we’ll be learning,” Rob quickly cracked. “We can all get side jobs.”

“Easy for you to say,” Don joked back. “Some of you’re good with tools. How you gonna feel about an eight-fingered detective?” He held up his fingers, minus his thumbs.

“They’re doing amazing things with surgery,” Owen also joked, and as the meeting was ending, he added one more thing, “I’ll tell you something else though – something that works in our favor though no one’ll ever admit it. As the mayor realized and finally told me, they’re all secretly happy to have our offices. You know how tight space is. And they’re already fighting for ours, room by room. And for everything in it.”

“So we can’t take our furniture?” Ike asked.

“If we make a very good case – which should be easy for the electronics. Most of it was custom programmed.”

“Once we get the power to turn it on.”

Owen glanced around the room. “It’s not like any of this is special.”

“But it works,” Ike protested, smoothly gliding a drawer open and closed. At least, Elena laughed. “What next?” she pushed on.

“What else?” Owen grinned. “We make plans.”

“Our usual?”

“Yep.”

And so they did.

Copyright © 2022 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

I can see the bureaucrats' arguments.   Whoever made the decision to move (if it was the entire department) now owns the mistake...so it will be good they do the work to make things better.  Lesson hopefully learned.

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You'd have to have seen the offices in the almost 150-year-old building to understand why the police department needed something contemporary.  And the new police department offices really weren't that far away -- as Owen said, "Only four blocks."  But the officers couldn't have accounted for the preference of the townspeople, who liked the station just where it always had been.  So it really isn't the officers' faults.

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Owen sure had to deal with a lot of pissed off bureaucrats. He also had to take a lot of the blame for something he probably didn't have much say or responsibility.  I do wonder how the police force is going to motivate the citizens to support their plan.

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Well, since it's the people who live in Waldron who are disappointed by the move, it shouldn't be hard to gently point out that they're the reason the department is trying to move back.  Though it was years of diplomatic pushing by the police to replace its aging headquarters, and the new station is really nice.  It's just in a place other people suddenly find inconvenient.

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