Bob

I opened the door to a slew of cops. Did I use that word right? Slew? Sounds like a mushy stew. I opened the door to a mushy stew of cops. They'd been stewing in their own juices cuz they were mad. Sal, my dad's pal (I can't help it if their names rhyme and I'm so prolific.) I didn't open the door all the way though. I have three heavy duty stainless steel latches on the door. You never know when the bad guys are coming.

Sal the pal yelled, "Hey Bobby open up. We just wanna tawk wit cha."

I'm not sure what part of New York Sal's from. It's the thick accent area wherever it is. Or maybe they learn intimidating accents at NYPD school.

Slowly I unlocked each chain. The slew rushed at me demanding things. Coffee! Donuts! The head!
Once I get the officers settled and into a semi-carbohydrate induced coma I'm ready to talk.

"So Sal..." I ask, "Where are you from?"

"From Italy Bobby--come on!" He threw up his hands in disgust.

They begin lighting cigarettes in my apartment. It's against the bylaws. These cops don't care but I try. "Could you please step outside to smoke?"

Sal spoke with the cigarette dangling from his lips. "Sure ting little Bobby. Where's your balcony?"

I pointed to the window knowing full well we don't have a balcony.

My dad finally showed up. He was late to my birth, my graduation and now apparently my funeral.

"Bobby!" He hugged me. He never hugs me. Is this a show or is he trying to put me off guard? I'm already on guard. I'm like a fencer poised to pounce. "You're not in any trouble, sonny. However the FBI and HomeLand Security are looking for your little friends, If you don't disclose their whereabouts you could be brought in on any number of charges."

"Trumped up charges right Dad?"

Suddenly I remembered all the reasons why I didn't want to go into the family business. It could be summed up in two words: Crooked cops.

"Yo Sonny boy, there's no reason to trump up your hindering an investigation or aiding and abetting... How about harboring a fugitive?

"Dad, my friends are none of those things. They didn't break the law. If you continually change the laws, how will people know if they're breaking them in the first place?"

Pop slapped me on the back--hard. "My son, eh?" His posse laughed. "He dropped out of college. He woulda made a helluva lawyer."

That's when my pop the cop pulled me up by my collar and got all up in my face. "Listen Bobby boy, you're gonna tell me where your punk ass friends are or else--"

I pulled free. I wanted to call him a big fat bully but since I'm sorta chubby myself I let it slide. "I don't know where they are geez!"

That's when Detective Dad slapped me back handed across the face while his minions pretended not to notice. "Don't lie to me. I can't have my own flesh and blood treat me like the enemy." Then my dad changed personalities right before my eyes. If my cheek didn't sting so badly I might've applauded his performance. "We're family right son? Blood is thicker than water and love is thicker than blood. You've got my love flowing through your veins. All I wanna know is where the March sisters are hiding out."

I noticed a lump on the back of my dad's right hand. It seemed irritated after slapping me so hard. Poor Pop.  It looked as if something had been injected under my father's skin. Or maybe he'd gotten an IV on his hand and they left in a small piece of the needle. As I was about to ask him if the rumors on the Dark Web were true when Sarah popped in.

Sarah always had bad timing--or maybe it's so bad it's just that good. "Oh Bob, I didn't know you had company. Allie asked if I'd make her some tea." She noticed my dad and  the three police officers sitting on our sofa.  "Oh hello gentlemen. There's no smoking in the apartment." Immediately the men extinguished their butts on our coffee spool. How rude.

The color drained from my father's olive complexion. "Allie is in the next room? The sick girl the March sisters broke out of the hospital?" The men began gathering their phones and keys from the coffee table as if their lives depended on it. Maybe it did?

I wasn't sure what just happened but all four cops ran out of the apartment as if they were on the lam. Hold on... on the lamb? I know it means "on the run" but how? Why? Bob, focus.

Just before Officer Robert Sr, aka good ol' dad, slammed the door in my face he yelled, "Everyone in this apartment is under quarantine do you hear me?" We all nodded. "A hazmat team will be here to sort all of this out. In the meantime--stay put or you will be arrested and fined."

I yelled after them. "Should that be arrested and OR fined?" I turned to Sarah. "Usually they don't do both."

Twenty minutes later a hazmat team appeared in full hazmat regalia.  They didn't even knock but they knocked down everything. Maybe it's because they couldn't see through the plexiglass and the gas masks? I think they wanted to show off their jerkiness. 

After swabbing up our noses (I think the physician's assistant was hoping to get a bit of brain matter from my swab) we were informed we'd be taken to a detainment center.

"Where are you taking us?" I cried. My nose still stung. "Are we sick? Are we in some sort of trouble?" But the goons in white wouldn't answer. Their lips were as sealed as the silver duct tape around their wrists and ankles.

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