Free Clouded Rainbow by Jonathan Sturak Page B

hoodlums all crawled out of the woodwork. Being low on the totem pole, Charlie sat near the front of the building, which was a frequently traveled path for entry by the front line police force to the rear of the cramped station. This was where the leadership hung their hats, but even their offices were not much bigger than a poor family’s broom closet.
    Charlie leaned in to the seclusion of his desk and confided, “Actually, we had the strangest thing happen. Saint Peters North had a Roger Belkin who was injured in the crash. He had some pretty bad head trauma. Well apparently, he just got up and walked right out of the hospital, nobody even stopped him. He stole a car from the lot, and was last seen at his home.”
    Det. Cleveland widened his eyes as his heart rate incited.
    “Oh, really. What’s his address?”
    Charlie knew Det. Cleveland was anxious to trek forward on the case. He focused on his computer screen and managed the mouse and keyboard like an artist using a brush and palette to paint his masterpiece. An incident report popped up on the screen with a plethora of investigative data. The title of the screen read “Belkin, Roger – Incident.” Charlie scrolled toward the bottom to find the needle in the haystack.
    “One Thirty Three Dietrich Road,” Charlie replied.
    Det. Cleveland marked the information in his notepad, and then thanked Charlie.
    Just as he was ready to close his phone, Charlie quickly interjected, “Anything for you, man. Mr. Workaholic. We gotta get you out on the town and hit the bar district.”
    The twenty-seven-year-old was always trying to break the focused detective’s seemingly impenetrable shell. Det. Cleveland thought about having a few drinks with Charlie and the crew from time to time. Maybe it would do him good. However, when he had finished a case or even part of a case, something else always arose which kept the detective incapable of finding any time to socialize, even if he contrived this something else.
    “Bye, Charlie,” Det. Cleveland responded as he shook his head smugly.
    “Call if you need anything,” Charlie responded.
    Det. Cleveland closed his cell phone and took a moment to collect his thoughts. He thought about this man named Roger Belkin, a man who just walked out of a hospital and took matters into his own hands to get home.
    Why did he do such a thing? he thought. Was it out of disregard for the law, complete arrogance, or a repercussion from the accident on the Pleasant Place Bridge? Det. Cleveland could not fathom how it must have been to experience the turmoil from the fiery crash last night. He could not answer these questions, even with all of his focused skills as a detective. The next step was clear to him—find the man with some answers.
    I wonder what this Belkin is up to, he pondered before he exited the hospital.
     
     
     
    10
     
     
    The sky was dark and the road was full of life. Lois’ big sister, Carol, drove her modest sedan toward the city. She was going to do some shopping at a quaint organic food store downtown. Carol was a homemaker. While some may have looked at the job as second-rate, she looked at it like a career. Carol enjoyed tending to the home, washing clothes, dusting, and preparing dinner. She liked a clean habitat and enjoyed sharing it with her husband, Robert, who respected Carol’s choice in their marriage. However, no lives were perfect. The one thing hers lacked was a child, a little person to care for, to teach, and to love. It was not by choice, as she and her husband had spent almost a year of old pregnancy wives’ tales, but she soon received the terrifying truth. Her doctor explained it was a genetic defect in her ovary and the bottom line was that she could not conceive a child. Even with modern medical science, drugs, or surgery, there was nothing possible to change nature. That was about ten years ago. Carol and Robert considered adopting, but after a long, hard discussion, they chose to adopt a newly