Free Nothing to Report by Patrick Abbruzzi Page B

told, lighting one cigarette after another the entire night.
     
    As the silence surrounded them during their tour, Charlie thought about Terry, searching for an excuse to tell Annette why he wasn’t coming home right away when he got off work. After he and the lieutenant had signed out, he went directly upstairs and changed into his civilian clothes. As he listened to some of the guys talking about how they were going to stop at old man Harry’s bar on Van Duzer Street, Charlie had to purposely avoid looking at his family’s pictures that were taped to the inside of his locker. Although he was guilt ridden, it didn’t stop him from thinking with the head between his legs instead of the one on top of his body.

    Seven
     
    Old man Harry’s place opened early and the guys on the late tour liked to stop there once in a while to have a few brews before going home. Cops who did 4x12's stopped after work and so did the 12x8 crew. The beer they consumed always helped them sleep during the day.
    Charlie could have called Annette and explained to her that he was just going to stop off for a few with the guys but it meant he would have to come home smelling like a brewery. Instead, he decided to tell her he made a DWI arrest, which was a good excuse because the Staten Island Advance never published particulars about drunk driving arrests, unless there was a fatality involved.
    He called Annette and tried to be as nonchalant as he could but was still nervous. He thought he sensed that she perceived he was lying; at least his guilt led him to think she did.
    He finished his call as well as could be expected for a family man so laden with guilt, then decided to contact Terry to confirm their morning meeting. He called her from a phone booth located on the corner of Wall Street and Stuyvesant Place, directly behind the 120 th station house. As he approached the phone booth he suddenly recalled that he was in the same one Albert Finney had used when he was filming the movie Wolfen on Staten Island. He was amazed at what was going through his mind.
    He held his breath as the phone rang in his ear but it didn’t take long before he got lucky and she answered.
     
    “Hi, Terry. It’s Charlie. I’m just touching base to see if everything is okay? ” 
    “Oh, Charlie, you scared me! I thought you were going to tell me you couldn’t make it. I just took a bubble bath and can’t wait until I see you. My son is fine and went to school and my mom is already gone for the day,” she said.
    “Do you want me to stop and pick anything up? ” he asked.
    “No, but am I still your pretty lady?”
    “You know you are,” he cooed with excitement.
    “Then I just want you to come over, Charlie,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting.
    “I’m on my way,” he said, his tone husky. He wasn’t surprised to notice he was becoming aroused.
    He hung up, made his way to his car and began the drive fantasizing about her all the way to her house. He was quivering with desire as he wondered what she would be wearing.
    Traffic was quiet as he headed out to the other side of the island where Terry lived. Everybody was always headed to the Ferry or the Verrazano Narrows Bridge at morning rush. He pulled up to Terry’s house, forgetting to park in a less conspicuous spot. He tried to be casual as he walked up to her front door because he didn’t want nosy neighbors to think something mischievous was going to take place. Charlie rang the bell and Terry answered it almost immediately.
     
    The first thing he noticed was her hair. It was sparkling and still a little wet from her bath. She was wearing a white silk robe that was open just a bit, allowing an enticingly small amount of Terry’s cleavage to spill into view. Charlie took a step inside the house and before he could say anything, she placed her hand over his mouth, motioning for him not to speak. He wondered what in the hell was going on. Had her family returned?
    He did not make