Hi I got such good feedback from my first attempt I started a few more. I haad a block while writing 'Letting It Go', and took a night off. This story came about from A report I saw on the news, it shocked me, and had me wondering how I'd explain it to my little sister, She can ask the tough questions like only a little sis can ask. After that the muse started abashin' and went with the flow. Incidents started as a way to resolve my feelings, which turned into how would Blair resolve his, which turned into the confused mess that you see before you. Well, have fun and I would REALLY appreciate feedback on this one.
I'd like to thank Becky B, my ever faithful Beta-reader, for Betaing and words of encouragment.
Also Suzie B, my Super Nudge Extraordinaire, without her nudging and ego stroking, this story would probably still be lost in WP limbo.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. But do ya think they'd let me borrow them for a while? I'd give them back, Sooner or later.
Jen
God, this was a long day, Jim thought, as he made his way off the elevator and towards the loft. I hope this recipe of Sandburg's is as good as he says it is.
Jim unlocked the door and entered the loft, expecting to smell the delicious fragrance of fresh river caught trout and herbs, surprised at what greeted him instead. Papers were strewn all over one couch and the coffee table, Blair's books and empty backpack were all over the other, and a quick look to the kitchen confirmed the presence of dinner still in the sink, uncleaned and uncooked.
Jim paused for a minute, trying to locate Blair, and tilted his head to the side, listening for the heartbeat he knew he could pick out of a crowd. He found it quickly, and frowned at the slightly accelerated rate. He followed the sound, with his eyes, to the balcony, and saw his partner. He was slumped over in a chair, gazing out over the city, lost in thought.
Uh oh, this can't be good. He left the place a mess, without even trying to clean it up. No matter what he's doing, Blair tries to clean some of it up before I get home. He hasn't started dinner yet, and is sitting outside in the cold without his jacket. This definitely is not good.
Jim sighed as he went to the fridge, pulled out two beers, then got Blair's jacket from its hook. With a quick shake of his head, Jim went to confront his Guide out on the balcony. Jim went through the doors and waited a second so as not to startle Blair, before he made his presence known.
"What's up, Chief?" Jim inquired lightly, while offering Blair the coat and beer.
"Nothin' much," Blair replied sullenly, as he took the beer, then set it down while he shrugged into the coat, not once bothering to look up.
So that's how it's gonna be.
Jim sighed and pulled a chair up along Blair's and sat down.
"Come on Sandburg, don't gimme that. It's, what, 40 degrees with a wind chill of 35 and you're out here on the balcony without your jacket, and dinner is the sink untouched. I've got two problems with this. One, if the mercury drops below 75, you start to shiver, and two you've been raving since we got back on Sunday, about this fish recipe that you've got that I've just gotta try. So what gives, Chief?"
Blair sighed and sunk a little lower in his chair, staring at the beer in his hand, as if not sure what to do with it. Jim watched as a hundred things passed over his Guide's ever expressive face in the span of a minute, as he came to a decision.
"Jim, do you ever get up in the morning and wonder what the world is coming to? Realize that you can't understand it much anymore? Wonder if things are ever gonna change?"
Blair paused, took a deep breath and let it out, then began again.
"Do you ever wonder, if anything you do is really gonna make a difference?"
Jim glanced over at Blair, startled at the uncharacteristically melancholy tone of his partner's voice.
"Blair, I'm a cop. I have thoughts like that only about 10,000 times a day, and that's before lunch."
Jim paused, opening his beer, and taking a drink as he let his words sink in.
"So what's gotten you thinking such heavy thoughts today?"
Blair sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Oh nothin new, just my freshman intro class again. They just can't seem to remember the material I teach from one class to the next. I swear it goes in one ear and out the other. I've been grading their tests."
Blair jumped up from his chair and began to pace the small length of the balcony.
"Then I saw this."
Blair pulled a newspaper from his back pocket and tossed it to Jim without even pausing as he paced. Jim quickly scanned what turned out to be today's newspaper, frowning as he finally began to understand a little of what had disturbed his young friend so much.
"Chief,....."
"Nobody helped him Jim. Over a dozen people looked down from their morning coffee and the Sunday funnies, to see a man being beaten to death in the street, and no one did anything. No one helped."
"I know Chief..."
"Over a dozen people. All they had to do was pick up a phone and dial three little numbers. That's all it would've taken, you don't even need to leave your name. But they just sat there and watched the show, as a man was beaten to death right in front of them. Oh yeah, I'm sorry, one person did call 911. ONE PERSON! How could they just sit there and watch Jim? How?!"
Blair started to pace faster as he became more agitated, and Jim let him, knowing his partner needed to work this out, and that somehow the pacing helped.
"One person Jim, how could only one person call?"
Blair repeated and started to gesture wildly with his hands.
"I mean how could living breathing human beings show such,...such apathy toward something like that? I remember being in school and reading about Kitty Genovese in history, I think I was maybe ten or twelve at the time. I remember trying to understand how thirty-eight people could just lie in bed, and listen, to a woman's screams as she was stabbed to death. So after school let out, I went home and asked Naomi why. Why could people do that? She said that there really wasn't an answer as to why. She said that sometimes when bad things happen people will sometimes react with indifference. She said that it's safer that way. That sometimes people just don't want to get involved. Then she told me not to worry about it because it was something that happened before I was born. It wouldn't happen again, and that it could never happen to me, so I should just let it go. Well Jim, it did happen again, and now it's 1998 not 1964. It didn't happen a continent away, only a few hundred miles. What's to stop something like that from happening here, in Cascade?"
Blair stopped his frenetic pacing and went to the railing, leaning wearily over it, with his arms dangling. Blair looked down to the street, and saw the Ford and the Volvo, sitting in their usual places in front of the loft.
"What if it was me Jim? What if this happened here?"
Blair looked over to Jim, questioning.
"What if a gang of guys started to beat me, here, right in the street? Would anyone do anything? Would any of our neighbors try to help, or even call 911? Was this just an isolated incident of indifference, or could the same thing happen here? I mean we're all quick to say, nah, it couldn't happen here. That these people are good people, that they'd help. Well those people were good people too, a few even knew the man being beaten. Yet they did nothing, and just let him die in the trunk of his car. What makes Cascade so different from anytown USA? What's to stop it from happening here?"
Blair shivered slightly. Jim got up and went to stand near Blair, letting their elbows touch. Standing there for a moment, silent, as he tried to control the feeling of horror that had decended at the thought of Blair lying, beaten to death, in the street.
"I don't know what to tell you Blair, I'd like to believe that it wouldn't happen here. But all I can truthfully promise you is that I wouldn't let it happen here. And I know you wouldn't let it happen here. It's not what you wanted to hear, I know, but I won't lie to you and that's all that I can promise. I can't control, or be sure, what anyone else will or won't do. I can only be sure of what I, what we would do, should anything like this ever happen here. I mean if I make a call, and you make a call....."
"Then that's one more call then they made."
"I know, it's not a solution, but it is a start. Blair, you can't expect to change everything all at once. You can only change one thing, one person at a time. OK?"
"Yeah, I guess. But, I still don't get it. I want to understand how this could happen. How people could do this. I mean, this is my job, my lifes work. Understanding people, and the what's and whys of the things they do. I'm an anthropologist, for Pete's sake, this is what I do. I can explain, no understand, why this tribe or that, in any of several foreign countries, do the things that they do. But I just can't seem to understand this, and it's my own tribe, in my own country. I just can't grasp how or why this would happen."
"Chief, this has nothing to do with your grasp of anthropology, and everything to do with your grasp of humanity."
Jim paused, and took a sip of his now warm beer, taking as minute to collect his thoughts and let his words sink in.
"Blair, you're a good man, with a kind and gentle soul. The reason you can't understand, or grasp, what happened is because you can't put yourself in their place. There is no way you could stand by and do nothing while a man was being beaten to death, right in front of you. That's why it's so hard for you to comprehend how someone else possibly could. You just don't have it in you. That's part of what makes you a good man and a great friend. But it also makes it hard for you to understand a senseless act of violence such as this. It isn't a failing in you Chief, it's a failing in them."
Blair turned to stare at Jim, as if trying to see the truth in his words. Blair turned back to the city before him and nodded, as though he finally figured out the answer to a really tough question.
"Thanks Jim. So, I'm a good man huh? I guess it takes one to know one. As for being gentle, you're one to talk. You can't seem to pass an animal without petting it. Like that dog in the park. You've given him what, four or five, hot dogs by now? I've pretty much accepted that lunch in the park with Jim means lunch in the park, with Jim, AND the dog."
"Well, he was lonely and hungry. What can I say Sandburg? I have a soft spot for small furry animals and wayward, trouble attracting anthropologists. It's just a weakness I'll have to learn to live with."
Blair and Jim laughed at that.
"So Chief, are you OK with this now?"
"No Jim, I'm not OK with this. I don't ever want to be OK with it. But I guess I'm OK with myself, all right?"
"Yeah Blair," Jim said as he laid a hand on Blair's shoulder and squeezed gently. "As long as you can be OK with yourself, then it's all right. Now let's go inside before you turn into a popsicle. By the way, what did you say is in this fish recipe of yours anyway, moss and twigs?"
Jim's voice trailed off, as he went back into the loft and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Blair on the balcony, alone with his thoughts.
Jim's right, he won't let it happen here. I won't let it happen here. An incident of indifference isn't a trend unless you let it be.
Blair stood up straight, as though having his mind at peace, finally lifted a weight off his shoulders.
"Sandburg, if you don't get your butt in here and start dinner right now, I'm gonna forget the fish and go to Wonder Burger."
Blair drew in one last deep breath, released it, and stepped back into the loft.
"Oh no you don't. That is SO unhealthy man. What you need is a little MORE fish and a little LESS Wonder Burger. That stuff is gonna clog your arteries like hair in a drain."
"Hey Chief, while we're on the subject of hair in the drain....."
"Uh um, hey Jim, do you know where I put the pine nuts?"
"SANDBURG......."
The End