Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

nearly ten years to Vivian’s junior. He was in great shape and had an even better tan. He was much better looking than I was, but he had about as much personality as a toadstool.

I checked his online social media accounts, and they mirrored nearly everyone else’s that lived in that part of the country.

Hates being inside.

Loves working out.

Loves organic foods.

Hates fossil fuels.

His voice was monotone in the background and all I could make out was, “we’re going to be late.”

Vivian spent most of the conversation invested in other things, so getting off the phone with me wasn’t a problem.

“John, something just came up and I have to go. Thanks for taking care of Cat for me.” She hung up.

Although I didn’t explicitly take care of Katherine for Vivian, I felt that I owed it to her. The years of hardship that led to the separation was all due to my inability to tell myself “stop.”

What transpired during our demise made me the culprit.

The part of the entire messy marriage escapade and misadventure that confused me most, was that she already had plans to move with Craig nearly one year before she officially moved out.

I didn’t know who Craig was other than “someone that can help me further my career in real estate.” She lied and quickly became romantically involved with him and forgot about me.

I was wasting away in my inability to survive on my own, and I knew it. I fell from the highest tower all the way to the ground, but at each floor I landed…just to jump off again.

The exhaustion crept up again, nearly as subtle as a sack of bricks knocking the wind out of me. I always felt physically tired after talking with Vivian, like I exerted some sort of unseen energy that was pertinent to my way of life.

I gathered my thoughts and washed up, letting the stale stench of alcohol flow down the drains of the shower. The clock already said 8:20 a.m., but I still wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

After opening the door, the neighbor’s door from across the hall had a family saying on it that read:

Home is where the heart is.

 

It felt insensitive for them to place that at eye level where I could see it every day.

***

The office was buzzing when I arrived. Everyone was moving in different directions. Uniformed officers were scouring through documents at their desks. Detectives were searching their computers, displaying pictures of the Henson crime scene.

I had a manila envelope on my desk that said CLOSED in large, red letters.

It was the Maise case.

Lieutenant Anderson closed it even though I wasn’t through investigating it. It was the ultimate slap in the face for any detective. It was seen as having your boss clean up after you messed up.

But, I didn’t mess up. In fact, I was being extremely thorough on a case that I never wanted in the first place. Something more important came along and it’s my job to carry as light of a load as possible so I can maximize my efforts.

He tried to help. Good for him.

My ears turned red as I stared at my blank computer screen. My blank reflection looked flat and uncaring, but my mind said something else.

Harlow gave me a glance from over her screen, but quickly looked back. She knew about the envelope and what it was.

My fingers raced through my hair several times and I took a deep breath before looking at LT’s office door.

“Why would he do this?” I asked. It was rhetorical, though I fully expected answers from several people.

“I think he just wanted you to move on to the Henson case. You’re overworked, John,” Harlow said. Her eyes never left her screen.

“Taking me into his office and talking to me about it is one thing, but to chastise me in front of my colleagues and partner,” I responded. “This is unacceptable.” My fist slammed down on my desk and I used the momentum to help me stand up. I grabbed the envelope and made my way to Anderson’s office.

“Hey, Trotter!” Abraham said. “Hey, wait a minute!”

I forcefully swung Anderson’s door open and slammed it shut behind me. He looked up in shock and answered the person on the phone. “Something just came up. I’ll have to call you back.”

He abruptly hung up without taking his eyes off me and I held up the envelope, making sure he could see the huge red letters.

“What the hell is this, Lieutenant?” I asked. My cheeks were on fire and my fingers were trembling.

“Now, just hold on a second…”

“No! I wasn’t finished with this case, sir!” The other officers and admins outside could definitely hear.

“You’re out of line, Trotter,” he said. “That case needed closed the moment it opened and you know it.”

“There was still work to be done. You weren’t in her room. You didn’t see what Abraham and I saw.”

“Regardless, John. Unless you think someone pushed her off that bridge, it’s over. It was a case like all the other cases, and this case is closed.”

I clenched my fist around the envelope, trying to remember what Dr. Allen used to tell me when the anger would rise within me. I closed my eyes and took three breaths and opened them.

The red that I saw when I entered the room was more of a pink. It was lightening up a bit and it felt appropriate to talk again.

My voice was more calm and collected as I found peace in the situation that wasn’t there before.

“That’s what was wrong with this entire situation. About all these cases, sir. This wasn’t just a case to me. It was a kid. A kid struggling so bad that she felt like the