Around and Around we go.

     Britney's been acting weird lately.  She bought herself a bicycle with one of those baby seats attached to the back.  She says she needs the exercise and wants to get out of the house more.  I've also caught her spending an awful lot of time messing with her hair in the mirror and humming to herself.

     This isn't bad, exactly.  I'm glad she's out of the funk she was in a few weeks ago.  There's just something odd about it is all.  She says she's just finally feeling settled in.

     The job's about the same as always.  Things are slow.  I do speed traps sometimes.  Even those are pretty uneventful.  All I get is the occasional hyperactive teenager or spaced out trucker pulling a 20 hour shift.  Britney keeps hinting about me getting a promotion.  She doesn't seem to get how these places work.  First of all, I've been in town less than a year.  Everyone else was pretty much bred and born right in this town.  I get the feeling that everyone in positions higher than me is there for life.  There's already a detective. Sure, he's 75 years old, but he's a healthy guy.  Hell, I think he could bench more than me.  He smokes a lot, but it just doesn't seem to affect him.

     People don't leave here, and they don't change.  Ameslayne's a stagnant pool.  It just sits.

Jessie's Big Day

     "Hey, Jessie!"  Harold was waving frantically, beaming.  Jessie smiled and beckoned him over.

     "Sit on down, Harold."  Jessie patted the bar stool next to him.  Harold sat down and tapped his fingers on the counter happily.   "Hey bartender, get me a rum and coke, alright?"  The bartender nodded.  Jessie watched Harold and couldn't help but smile.  "Had a good day today, Harold?"

"Oh, Jessie, the best!  I got a new place to crash at, got me a new woman.  If I could get a job I'd be doing awesome!"  Jessie waited until the bartender had served Harold then leaned close.  "I might have a job for you."  Harold, in the middle of a gulp of his drink, started to cough.  Jessie patted him on the back and continued.  "I think I found a mark."

Harold's eyes widened.  He finished coughing and then hissed at Jessie. "Shh are you crazy man?  Over here."

He grabbed Jessie's arm and dragged him toward a table.  Jessie rolled his eyes and followed.  That was Harold.  He ran on pure paranoia.

"Okay," Harold said, "continue your story."

"Listen, I found a dumb chick with cash to spend.  I think she has the hots for me, too!"

Harold's eyes narrowed. "But you have a woman, man!  What about Maria?  She'll skin your hide!"

Jessie chuckled. "Man, Maria's not the only bitch I've been with lately."

"Goddamit Jessie, you're crazed."

"Yeah, I got another lady at my place.  She even cooks sometimes.  I think I mighta got her knocked up, though."

Harold frowned.  "So tell me about this new broad.  The one with cash."

"Oh, I guess she just moved to town a few months back.  Married with a kid but you can tell she'd give it up in a heartbeat.  She bought some girl scout cookies from me."

"What's her name, loverboy?"

"Uhhhh.. Britney.  Britney.. Vanilla... something." Jessie felt slightly embarrassed.  "Hold on a sec."  He patted his pockets and then pulled out a card.  "Britney Valhalla."

"Oh shit, Jessie. You dumb son of a bitch.  Valhalla?  That's the new cop's wife!"

Jessie just winked.  "Hey, what he doesn't know won't hurt me, right?"

Harold sighed and shook his head.  "I want no part of this.  How in the hell do you think you're going to get away with ripping off a cop?"

"I don't!  I'm just gonna milk the babe for a bit.  Maybe get some free meals and some company.  Maybe if she likes me I get some presents.  It's not illegal to have a lady give me things, Harold."

Harold shook his head slowly.  "Man, Jessie, it's your funeral.  You're already playing two women.  Maria's Mexican  too, dude.  If she finds out what you're up to she'll nail you to the wall by your cojones."

Jessie winked and stood up.  "I got to bail.  Good luck with being all broke and moral and shit."

The Chaos that Boredom Brings.

     So I was doing scales on my flute while Paul had his tummy time in front of the tv.  He's crawling a little bit, but the lazy little bugger would rather stare at his hands and drool.  Anyway, I was practicing my scales, getting ready to break out in some Scarborough Fair, when somebody knocked on the door.

     I opened the door and it was this guy wearing a hat with a really big nose.  It was a nice nose though, sort of roman looking I guess?

"Hello, miss." he said.

"Hey there."

"My daughter has the flu, so I've been helping her out with selling her girl scout cookies.  Could you spare a few dollars, miss?"

"Sure.  Hey, I've got to get my purse, would you like to come in for a bit?"

"Yes ma'am."

He sat on the couch while I went to the bedroom and grabbed a few bucks.  When I came out, he pointed at Paul.  "That your little guy?"

"Yeah, that's my baby."

"Real cute."

Paul gurgled obliviously.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Jessie."

"Well Jessie, I'm Britney.  Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, not far actually."

I mentally kicked myself. Of course he did.  How far was he going to travel to sell girl scout cookies?

I sat down next to him on the couch and we both watched Paul grunt and squirm on the floor.

For some reason I started telling this guy all about my stupid boring life.  I started out just babbling nervously about my flute, then I was talking about my old band, how we used to dress up in costume and play at Renaissance Fairs and weddings.  I told him about my tarot cards.

I started talking about Peter and his job as a cop when I noticed him squirming a bit.  Something clicked.

"You don't even have a daughter, do you?"

He blinked at me warily.

"Hey Jessie, it's okay.  I'm not the one who's a cop.  As far as I'm concerned, a cookie's a cookie. Hey do you want a beer?"

Mayberry was more exciting than this.

     I didn't come here thinking my job would be glamorous.  You don't come out to Mayberry and expect The Wire.  This town is something else, though.  It's not just quiet: it's stagnant.  There's crime, of course.  The odd drunken fight, maybe some domestic violence.  There was that time old Bill decided to dress up like  Spiderman and pepperspray the mailman in the face.

     I don't know.  You see the news.  There's untold horrors out there, everywhere.  Every town has its ugliness.  I know this town does too.  I can smell it, like the ozone stink before a thunderstorm.  I don't know if it's something that happened before I got here.  It could be something going on now.  My instincts tell me that something's waiting to just break loose.

    That's not the sort of thing you mention to the guys.  You don't want them questioning your mental stability.  Especially when you're new.  My partner Buck is pretty young himself.  He's lived in this town his whole life, though.  I think I make him nervous.  When you're small town, I guess you get used to the same faces, the same attitudes.  I'm an unknown element.

    So for now, I play it cool.  We go on patrol, we get slushies from the Keiser and we chat.  Sometimes we play a few hands of poker if it's really slow.  It's always really slow.

    The only other thing that worries me is Britney.  I don't know that she likes it here much.  I figure most of that has to do with staying home with the baby.  I wouldn't have thrown a fuss if she worked, but going on tour with her little band?  What kind of life would Paul have with his mother gone for months at a time and his  dad not around much more himself?

    Britney agreed with me about all of this in the beginning.  She seems worn now, though.  Sometimes she spaces out on me when we're talking.  I'll have to do something nice for her soon.  Maybe I'll bring her out to dinner somewhere nice, and get her something sparkly.  Women are into that sort of thing.

Britney

     I wish Peter would talk to me.  He claims he's sleeping fine these days, but it's a lie.  He wakes me up with these screams sometimes.  It's not like I needed anything else to mess with my sleep.  I already have a hyperactive six month old who thinks escaping his crib is an extreme sport.

     It's lonely being home all the time like this.  We decided it would be best for the baby.  I hate it.  You think your boss is bad?  Try a baby who thinks he's the lord and emperor of your existence.  Hate sucking up and going to stupid meetings?  Try 3 hours a day of Barney.  Yes, I let my son watch television.  I have to clean the house and shower somehow.

    Sometimes I even cook.  I admit, my repertoire's not great.  It's fucking stupid, though.  I'm supposed to be a maid, nanny AND a cook? Shit at least when I worked I only had to do the one job.  I was a musician, in case you wondered.  Hard to travel to gigs with a baby, though.  There was no way Peter was going to give up his job for me.  His job isn't just how he makes money, it's his sacred vocation or something.  It's his way of making the world a better place, blah blah blah.

    I wonder now and then if he's just being a narcissistic prick.  So he arrests people.  So what?  So then what happens?  They go to jail for a while, and then they get out.  They go right back to whatever illegal shit they were doing before, except now they have some great tips from their fellow criminals and a nice big grudge against the legal system.  That's just fantastic.

     I guess there's talk about making Peter a detective.  I hope this means a raise.  There better be some compensation for all of the self righteous bragging I'm going to have to suffer through.

Peter's Tale

     My name is Peter Valhalla.  My old head shrink told me I should keep a diary, so here I am.  My wife doesn't even know I used to have a shrink.  She didn't even know me that well when we got married.  She knew I loved her, and that I'd promised to be with her forever.  Promises are tricky things.  I do love her, though.  I love her laugh, and her beautiful hair.  I love how she insists on cooking for us, although all she seems to make is grilled cheese sandwiches.

     I'm a cop. It would seem a strange choice to anyone who knew the old me.  The thing is, I know the criminal mind.  I understand the dark road a man travels when he decides to leave the civilized world behind.  There's always a reason.  Sometimes it's just plain money.  Money is a useful thing to have, damned useful.  Only a fool or a wealthy man claims there's no need.  Tell me how great poverty is when your beloved sister is injured in a car crash and your family goes in debt for decades to care for her.  I've seen it.

    There's also the power trip.  These days, lots of people into power and control get into politics or business. Sometimes there's only a couple of degrees of separation between a mayor, a CEO, and a common crook.  Sometimes there's no separation at all

     So anyway, in the personal vein, I'm a dad now.  We just gave birth to a baby boy.  We named him Paul,  after my late grandfather.  He looks a little bit like my grandfather too, all scowling and wrinkled.

     Not much else to say.  I think I'm doing well.  I don't have the night terrors like I used to.  I go to bed at night, and I wake up and go about my day.  I don't even panic when I hear kids shrieking outdoors playing.  I think I'm gonna make it.  My old therapist would be proud of me.  She'd probably be a little upset with me for quitting therapy, though.  I promised I'd find a new therapist once I moved here, but I never did.  I just want to put the past behind me.  I want a new life.  I don't want anyone here judging me based on the man I once was.

    I'm not here to cause trouble.  I'm here to keep the people of this town safe from people like I used to be.