The Arrest

“No, Kyle, you don’t owe me anything outside of getting well so you can continue to go after the bad guys, and write speeding tickets for lonely guys like me.” He gripped my hand so hard it hurt. I wanted his arms around me, holding me that tight.

“Did they tell you about the injury?”

“No, they didn’t. But from what I saw, I was pretty sure it went through your left lung and possibly your heart.”

“It did go through my heart. The heart sealed itself as soon as the bullet passed through. Funny thing about hearts.”

“Mine would have been broken if you died.” I gripped his hand tight. “You owe me alright. I had to pay for your coffee.”

“Oh Jeez, I forgot about that. When I’m able, let’s go back to Michael’s and sit at the same table. I’ll buy the coffee and we can pick up where we left off. Deal?”

“Deal. It won’t be soon enough.”

“I’m going to be laid up for some time. There is so much more I want to know about you.”

“I have a dog named Max. He knows what your blood smells like. Do you like dogs?”

“Humm.” His eyes were fluttering.

“You’re tired. I’m going to leave now.”

“No, wait.” He held on to my hand. I had not realized how strong he was. “Still interested in finding that husband?”

I smiled, “I may have found him.” He smiled as his eyes fluttered shut. His grip on my hand relaxed as he fell asleep.

I met his family as they were returning to his room. They asked a lot of personal questions about my relationship with their son, and brother. Since I had only met him that one evening I had little to offer. I wasn’t sure if they knew he was gay or not. It didn’t matter since I wasn’t sure he and I would ever have any kind of a relationship. We had only spent minutes together before the robbery. I literally knew nothing about him. He would need the support of his family rather than any attention from me during his recovery, which might take several months – a guess on my part since I didn’t have any of the details of the injury or the surgical procedure they performed to save him. I chatted for a few minutes with these loving people before I returned home.

My loneliness seemed more acute, having come so close to a possible partner, only to have him snatched away by circumstances beyond my control. Besides, I don’t think I could have gotten past those braces. How do you suck face with someone who has braces? I decided life sucks, and I tried to forget Officer Krupke.

It must have been two weeks, possibly more, when my doorbell rang. Max sprang to the front door ahead of me, barking and wagging his tail furiously. It was Kyle’s sister whose name I had conveniently forgotten, “Hi, what a surprise . . . .”

“Brenda.” Her smile acknowledged my memory loss. “Hi, Clark. I should have called first, sorry. Is this convenient?”

“Yes, of course. Please, come in. The kettle is on for tea – care for some?”

“Sure.”

“How’s Kyle?”

“Oh, he’s fine.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“Sure there is. Why else would you be here?”

“Um, I see,” she paused a few seconds. “He’s not responding the way he should. He’s a strong man and should have been further along in recovering.”

“And you think I can help.”

“Well, yes. I’m hoping you will help.”

“Do you have anything against the English language?”

“No.”

“Well then, speak it plain.”

She was silent as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at me, “My parents don’t have a clue what’s going on. I do. Kyle and I are very close.”

“Is there more?” I asked.

“He’s depressed, and you’re all he can talk about.”

“Really?” I was somewhat surprised.

“Yes, really. Any chance you can spend some time with him until he’s on his own again?

“Why doesn’t he ask me himself? He knows my phone number.”

“He’s afraid he would be imposing on you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but I know him well enough.”

“I don’t know, Brenda. I’d like to help. I’m not sure it’s a good idea. He must have friends who can help. How about his fellow officers? They’re a tight group.”

“They have been helping. At least right after the shooting. They’re releasing him from hospital tomorrow.”

“Where’s he going?”

“My parents for the time being. Look, this probably is an imposition. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s not. I’m glad you came over. I’ll think about it.”

“He’s never had anyone close. At least he never said anything to me. You probably won’t believe this, but he’s shy.”

“No he’s not,” was my quick retort.

“Yes he is.” Brenda looked at me questioningly.

“Did he tell you how we met?”

“Not exactly. All I know is that something took place that got his attention.”

I laughed when I thought of what I said while he wrote that citation. “Did he tell you that he caught me speeding and gave me a ticket?”

“No, he didn’t. When did that happen?”

“The day of the robbery.” I hesitated, then decided to tell her. “Since you’re so close with Kyle, while he was writing the citation I asked him if he was married – he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“You didn’t.” Brenda was surprised.

“Oh yes I did. Then I told him I thought he was good looking, I was lonely, and looking for a husband.”

“Oh my God. Then what happened?” Brenda leaned forward.

“He said he could arrest me for soliciting. I apologized and thought that was the end of it – until he called me at home later that evening.” Brenda sat there staring at me, waiting for more. “You’ve probably guessed, I’m not shy.”

Brenda smiled her acknowledgment. Then, “He actually called you?”

“I swear to God. I almost fell over when I recognized his voice.”

“And?” she could hardly wait for more.

“We agreed to meet for coffee at Michael’s. We did. He mentioned that he was also looking for a husband and then he . . .”

“Wait a minute,” she interrupted, “What did he say?”

“He told me he was also looking for a husband.” I paused while Brenda processed that information. “Then he spotted the robbery in progress. And that was the end of our first date – if you can even call it that.”

Brenda’s jaw dropped open as she stared at me. “He actually said that to you?”

“Yes. Sounds like he didn’t mention it to you.”

“So, that’s the reason.”

I could tell she was putting some guesses and ideas together. Then she stared at me, “Were you serious about finding a partner?”

“Yes, I was.”

“So what’s stopping you from seeing him?”

“I don’t know. Circumstances I suppose.”

“Do you have something against the English language?” Brenda was delighted to shoot that back at me.

“No.”

“Well, then speak it plainly.”

I hadn’t come face to face with it before, but there it was, “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of not having it work out, and finding myself alone again.”

“That’s the most incredible reason for sidestepping a perfectly good relationship I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“But I . . .”

She interrupted again, “But nothing. You’re coming to dinner at my parent’s home next Sunday. And you better be there or I’ll come looking for you.”

“Hey, I dislike being hustled.” I gritted my teeth to keep from smiling.

“Dislike it if you must, just be there. Dinner is at 6 sharp.”

“What about your parents. I might let the cat out of the bag with my big mouth.”

“If they haven’t already figured it out, it’s about time they did. Thank you for tea. I’ll leave you to your own devices for the time being. Here’s the address. I’ll see you Sunday. Bring wine if you feel obligated, but it’s not necessary.”

Max and I escorted Brenda to the front door. “Are you always this bossy?”

“When it comes to Kyle, you bet I am.” She kissed my cheek, hugged me, and disappeared down the stairs.

I figured I had better attend dinner, fearing she might make good her threat.

It was 15 minutes to six when I parked in front of the Rodriguez home. There were three cars in the driveway, and two squad cars parked across the street. I got out of the car and felt like I was about to walk into the lion’s den, possibly the jaws of the lion.

The front door was ajar, I walked in without knocking or ringing the doorbell. The aroma of good food cooking was intoxicating, accented by animated conversation and laughter coming from the living room. I decided I was not one of the boys and turned around. I left the wine and flowers on the hall table and moved quietly toward the front door. Perhaps no one would notice.

“And where do you think you’re going?” It was Brenda.

I stopped and turned around. “Look, you folks are having such a good time. I’m not going to fit in.”

She gently took my hand and pulled me toward the archway of the living room. “You really are a pushy broad.”

“I know,” she smiled and put her arm through mine as we came into view of the other guests. There was a split second of silent recognition, then all hell broke loose. All I remember hearing was, ‘The hero has arrived.’ I spotted Kyle in his wheelchair. He had the biggest grin in the room. I was glad Brenda had stopped me from leaving.

My arrival seemed to be the signal for the other visitors to make their departure. Soon, there were just the five of us. I found myself admiring this family of four during dinner. They were so in tune with one another. They laughed, argued, and disagreed with one another while being bound together in love, understanding, and a mutual respect for each other. The prospect of a relationship with Kyle took on new meaning as did the possibility of being part of this loving family.

I kept a close watch on my big mouth that evening so the cat did not escape the proverbial bag. I suspect that if Kyle’s parents did not know of his orientation, and found out – I doubt they would have cared.

I spent a good deal of my free time with Kyle as his recovery progressed over the next several months. The day came when he was well enough to move back into his apartment. Then we really had a chance to get to know one another.

And finally, the day came when he was able to resume his duties as a police officer. It seemed as if I was relegated to the background of his life, I saw less of him. I felt left out, no longer necessary, no longer needed. Perhaps he had gotten to know me too well. I should have said something, but I didn’t.

Two weeks went by without hearing from Kyle. No one was at fault. It was just one of those things. He resumed his life and probably decided he didn’t need a husband after all. We never did go back to Michael’s Coffee Shop and take up where we left off. I would have liked that.

I didn’t think anything about the flashing blue lights coming up behind me. It was evening rush hour and drizzling rain. The traffic was slow and heavy. But I found it curious that those lights followed me when I turned the corner onto Geary Boulevard. They got closer. I wasn’t speeding, so why was I being tailed? I heard the bleep bleep coming from the squad car. I obediently pulled over and stopped. The blue lights were still whirling, along with the flashing head lights when I saw someone get out of the squad car and walk in my direction. This better be good, I thought to myself.

“Sir, please step out of your vehicle.”

“Kyle?” I looked around and saw him standing tall in the drizzling rain, feet apart, no hat, and those braces glittering at me. He had a small black box cupped in his left hand.

*** Epilogue

As you can imagine, Kyle got down on one knee in a puddle of water and proposed marriage, offering me a ring of engagement. I accepted. I don’t think he noticed the tears running down my rain-soaked face. The entire scene could not have taken more than five minutes, but in those five minutes, folks in the slow moving traffic on Geary Boulevard took photos of Kyle and me which ended up splashed across the front page of the San Francisco Examiner the next morning, with the headline: COP PROPOSES IN HEAVY TRAFFIC. How the paper got our names remains a mystery, but there they were in black and white.

My phone began ringing at 5:30 the next morning when the morning edition hit the streets. I was frantic, not knowing what the repercussions would be for Kyle’s position on the police force. I tried calling him but kept getting his message prompt. My concerns were needless.

The gay community in San Francisco came out in force, supporting us in every way possible. They made headlines with their support. One group was handing out flowers to every policeman they could find. It was a big positive boost for the Police Department. The evening news was filled with what I thought was a very private affair, albeit on a busy street, but nevertheless.

Kyle was decorated for bravery for his part during the robbery shootout. In his acceptance speech, he did not hesitate to mention Clark Kent, the man who saved his life. I was obligated to stand when he pointed his finger at me.

“Yes, his name really is Clark Kent, and he is my hero. I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for him. When I began to slip away he screamed at me, threatening to kick the livin’ crap out of me if I didn’t stay with him.” When the laughter subsided, he added, “I stayed with him and decided I never wanted to leave him, so I asked him to marry me.” The audience was silent.

Finally, someone piped up, “Did he accept?”

I took my cue and stood up, “Yes, I did.”

When the applause died down, Kyle added, “You’re all invited to Grace Cathedral a week from next Saturday for the ceremony.” The audience could not restrain themselves, they rushed forward and mobbed both of us with congratulations and best wishes. That little episode was on the news that evening. My phone never stopped ringing.

I laugh when I think of that traffic stop so long ago on Route 1 into San Francisco when that beautiful police officer stood next to my car door and arrested me – in more ways than one.

For what it’s worth, kissing someone with braces is no problem, no problem at all.

THE END.