Midday Clouds - The Charlie Swan Story

Chapter 7 (Twilight 7/11)

Jim nodded. "Got it, Charlie. I was just talking out my ass, is all. You know I ain't like that. Hell, I transferred here because I was sick of the corrupt ways of my last department." When he said that, the other deputies nodded their heads in agreement. I knew they'd seen the same mess in their own units before transferring.

"Yeah, well, it's a big problem that needs more than a few officers in Forks to fix," I said, sitting back down. "But until the whole damn system can get a much-needed reform, all we can do is be the best we can be out here in our own little corner of the state -- and that includes a no-harm, shoot-last approach."

My officers nodded. They were good men and women, though given that the training to become a police officer was pitifully lacking in this country, they'd all needed a few years of additional instruction to be able to make Forks safer by their presence, rather than more dangerous as is usually, and unfortunately, the case with US officers.

Even still, the guilt of participating in an inherently corrupt system had laid heavily on me for the past decade and a half, especially seeing the way that America's law enforcement was so quick to needlessly shoot the people -- disproportionately the Black people -- that they were supposed to be protecting. It was something all of us here in Forks, and any other reasonably-minded officer of the law, should have to bear with them, day in and day out.

I also knew that the increase in Washington homicides was weighing on them just as it was weighing on me. It was why I organized the fishing trip this Saturday, so that a few of the officers could take their mind off the troubles of the world, if only for a few hours.

The rest of the work day went by without much excitement. I diverted my usual patrol route to swing by the house after lunch, and saw that Bella's truck was gone. A quick drive over to the school found it parked in the lot. I wondered whether she had picked it up from home at lunch, or if maybe the Cullen boy had convinced her to skip class for one reason or another.

When I got home from work, Bella's truck was back in its designated spot in the driveway. She was in her room, but came down quickly to start on dinner. I wanted to ask her about Edward Cullen, but I couldn't think of a way to bring it up without freaking her out, so I just waited until she felt ready to talk about it.

"You know, Dad..." she said as we were tucking into our lasagnas.

"What's that, Bell?"

"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me."

"Oh," I said, pleasantly surprised. Maybe we could spend the day together after all -- or maybe she just wanted to stick around Forks to hang out with that Edward Cullen. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?" I asked, eager, but predicting the answer.

"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do... homework, laundry... I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I'll be in and out all day... you go and have fun."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish - we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply." Okay, so she didn't want to talk about the boy. That was fine. I shot her a smile anyway, thankful that she was at least communicating about the cancelled plans.

"You're sure easy to live with, Bella," I said.

"I could say the same thing about you," She said, laughing. Her laughter sounded a little off, and I was sure that it was from the secrets she was keeping from me. Well, all teenage daughters will keep secrets from their dads. It'd be weirder if they didn't.

---

I woke up bright and early the next morning to go fishing. It was just me, Jim, and Denise out on the river, seeing as at least a few officers had to stay on duty no matter what. We were quiet, for the most part, not wanting to disturb the fish, but I could tell that the stress was melting off of them just as it was off of me as the sun rose over the pine trees that Saturday morning.