[1] Roach Town

Roach Town

[1]

Rochester, Vermont isn't a good town. It isn't a bad town either. It is just a town. A typical Vermont town. In a typical New England style. There was a gazebo in the town square. A post office. A grocery store. A hardware store. There was a restaurant that did a doubler as the town watering hole. The town had a fire department. Volunteer based. There was a constable. A mayor. A town clerk. In the Summer there was a farmers market. In the Fall there was a harvest festival. In the Winter there was skiing. That was it. That was all the town had to offer. For the most part the people in town were not young people. They were older, grumpy. Resigned to the slow rural life that came with the territory. Mostly farmers. School teachers. People that worked at the hardware store. The grocery store. The restaurant. The post office. People that volunteered for the fire department. Ran for mayor, unopposed. Or for constable, unopposed. Or for town clerk, unopposed.

The town was in a valley. Inside the Green Mountains. Bisected by VT 100. Running North and South. For the most part it was a useless town. Neither producing something, nor consuming something. If you were in Rochester, Vermont, you were there for a reason. You either grew up there, or you were visiting. Nobody moved to Rochester just get their hands on the vibrant nightlife. Or to start some money making operation, like a carwash or a bakery. There was just no need for it. The people didn't want it. Those that lived there. Those that visited desired much more, but if they thought they were going to get it, they were sadly mistaken. Generations of inertia had put a stop to that. Anyone thinking they could change their ways was both a fool and an arrogant fool at that. The town was not a town for commerce, or even competition. There was just no need for it. It was, what it was, and everyone living there was more than fine with it. In fact, had someone tried to come into town and change things, these normally docile towns-folk would rise up with a violent vengeance that would surprise even the most cynical and jaded human being. The depths of the inertia that Rochester had was so deep, so profound, that even the people who lived there didn't know where it came from, or even when it started. It had always been that way.

For this reason, and this reason alone, a certain Captain Josh Nylon of the NYPD had liked to spend his vacation in Rochester. Taking his wife and two brat kids up to a rented house on the Townline Road for a week in July. When the City would become too much for him. When he would find himself drinking too much. And getting very short with his wife and his two brat kids. Every year, like clockwork, he would end up having such and epic blowout that he would scare himself. He would put in for time off. Pack up the rental car and drive five hours north to take the cure. To spend the days fishing and swimming. Driving here and there. Visiting farmers markets. Buying maple syrup and rhubarb that he would never put to use. Always planning to figure out how to bake a pie, but then giving up when he realized he didn't have the patience to bake. For nearly a decade he had come to Rochester. He would take the cure, and a week later he would lose that edge. The thing that drove him to succeed at his job. The indifference. The cynicism. The scab that grew on his heart. A week in the woods would do away with it all. For an entire week he wouldn't think about murder or rape or just bad human behavior. He would instead actually enjoy spending time with his family. His two brat kids. He would make tender love to his wife when the kids went to bed. Then in the morning he would get up and take the boys fishing, or swimming, or they would drive three towns over to visit a farmers market. Or even, sometimes they would just do nothing. Sit around making a puzzle or maybe going for a walk in the woods. And if it was raining, they would all just lounge around reading. Captain Nylon rather enjoyed his vacations. He would try to remind himself when they were over that another one was coming up in a year from now, but that never stuck. He would get back to work, feeling refreshed and ready to do his job again. And sometimes it would take a week, sometimes even two, but he would be back to his old self before too long. Drinking too much, being mean to his brat kids and his wife, hating his job.

At the end of this last vacation, he had exactly one day of peace before things went right back to normal. It was the end of July, the City was suffering a heat wave. And his two best detectives had clearly been on a bender for the entire time he was gone. When he got into work the Monday morning after his vacation he was confronted with a pile of paperwork concerning their behavior when he was gone. He sat down to read the reports. He could feel his face getting red. He pulled the bottom right drawer open. Looked at the bottle of whiskey he stashed there for times of duress. He shut it again. Thinking to himself, "Now relax, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Joshy boy." In his mind he called himself Joshy boy. Nobody else called him that. His wife called him Joshua. Even his parents didn't call him that growing up. He, himself, didn't know it, but it was a coping mechanism that he had created many years ago to give himself permission to be upset. Had he known what was happening, he would have surely just took that bottle of whiskey and drank straight from the bottle, because the coping mechanism did not, in fact, work. It was merely a delay tactic that had he been the kind of guy that admitted he had a problem, he would have spoken to a therapist about this, and they would have easily been able to diagnose a red flag the second he mentioned that this was how he dealt with stress. But Captain Nylon was old school. He would not be talking to anyone about his emotions. Even if they were the main thing that controlled his life. Captain Nylon got to work reading the reports.

Captain Nylon didn't get very far. He barely even skimmed the the things. He put the paperwork down and yelled:

"Zone and Gagger! Get your asses in here this minute!" The desks outside his office, where ten police officers sat and did their paper work when they were not on the beat, they all turned around and looked at him. Detective Zone and Detective Gagger stood up. They were both very tall. Very lanky. Detective Zone had a vulture-like quality to him. A long neck with a huge Adam's apple. He kind of stuck his head straight out. He even bounced a little when he was walking. He had thick black hair that was combed back and kind of a large nose. He really did seem like a vulture. He even kind of put his teeth out when his mouth was open. And he had a broken front tooth that he never got fixed. A thing from a drunken episode over a decade ago that just never got resolved. Detective Gagger was even taller than Detective Zone. But he was thicker. Harder to describe. He was, or used to be, very handsome. He had a broken front tooth as well. But his hair was blonde and curly-ish. He had something sexual about him that was different than Zone. But at the same time he was even weirder than Zone. Even if he could be charming.

The two detectives walked into Captain Nylon's office. They smelled like booze. Zone was clearly hungover. It was harder to tell with Gagger. He was hungover, but it didn't show as much. They were bleary eyed and sensitive. Detective Zone had nicotine stains on the fingers of his left hand. They both smelled, aside from the booze, they both smelled like they had slept in their clothes the night before. Captain Nylon didn't even give them a second to ask him about his vacation, or whatever they would have said. He went straight into it:

"Shut the door." Zone shut the door. "What the fuck, you fucking assholes! This god damned bullshit is bad, real bad, even for you dickwads! Care to explain yourselves?" Zone and Gagger mumbled something. Captain Nylon didn't listen. He dove deeper into his tirade, like a boner in spandex. "You are going to get all of us fired! I hope you know that! I really do. I can't. I can't fucking read these reports. You see this? You see this fucking stack of papers?" Captain Nylon was waving the papers in the air. He kind of wanted to stand up and beat the two detectives over the head with them. Roll them up and beat them over the head with them. Like a dog that just shit on the carpet. "Do you know what you have done? Look at this! Smelled like booze! Fired. Asked a witness for their number! Fired! Smelled like booze and then got a witnesses number and then sent a picture of their penis! Fired! Fired! All fired! It just goes on! Smelled like booze and then tried to get a free sandwich from the deli that had the robbery! Fired! Caught smoking weed in a cop car! Fired! Do you even know? You have to know! And it goes on! Caught going to the bathroom on the Williamsburg bridge! Fired! Caught taking photos of a corpse! Fired! What the fucking hell! I have only been gone a week and this is the bullshit I come back to? Are you fucking kidding me? And, my god! You guys smell like absolute shit! When was the last time you showered? Man, I can smell one of you motherfucker's feet! What the hell! I don't even know. I don't even know!"

The two detectives just stood there. It was all true. There was no denying it. The last week had been wild. With Captain Nylon out of the picture they kind of took it upon themselves to do whatever the hell they wanted to do. And it had been quite fun. Gagger kind of looked over and smirked at Zone. Trying to hide it. Captain Nylon said:

"I saw that! You fucking insubordinate mother fucker!" Gagger said:

"Wha'd I do?" Zone spoke. He sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. He also bit on his words like they were rocks themselves. Like the words came out after navigating the gravel and then travelled to the roof of his mouth and came down the backs of his teeth. And then they just bounced off of his lips. He said:

"It's not our fault, man, Cappy, we got bad press is all. Look, we can explain it, it's all just a misunderstanding."

"Oh, yeah, Zone, is that it, really? Just a misunderstanding? You two are the very worst. You really are. I don't know what to do here. I really don't. If the papers get ahold of this shit all of our gooses are cooked. We are fucked. I really, I don't even know. I am speechless. No, that is wrong, I am not speechless, I am fucking livid. This will not stand. You will not continue with this nonsense. Give me your badges and your guns." Detective Zone and Detective Gagger stood there. They were not ready to just hand in their guns and badges. They would at least argue first.

That moment. The brief moment when Zone and Gagger refused to hand in their guns an epiphany came down from our savior, the lord, Jesus Christ. Right into Captain Nylon's brain. All this time. All the hours and hours he spent dealing with these donkeys. All the suffering they had caused him. All the hours of stress and worry. Even though they were his best detectives, it could just go away. They obviously needed help. The obviously needed to clean up. They needed the cure. The same cure that Nylon himself had just taken. Suddenly, in his mind, in his epiphanic mind, Captain Nylon knew the answer. He would send Detective Zone and Detective Gagger up to Rochester, Vermont, to take the cure. There was nothing there for them. Not a single thing. The newspapers could do what they did, but these jack-asses wouldn't be around to make things worse. They would take the cure and come back ready to do their jobs. That golden feeling that Captain Nylon had when he got back from vacation returned. He would not do a slug from the whiskey bottle in his desk. He would arrange for these morons to go up North and take the cure. He even had a good idea about how to do it. He said:

"Yeah, okay, forget what I said." Zone and Gagger let out a collective sigh. Which wafted over to Captain Nylon. He blinked. He said, "Nope, never mind. Hand me your badges and guns, you are on leave, effective immediately. But don't go anywhere. You idiots are taking the cure. Stay at your desks until further notice."

"But, Cappy!" Detective Zone said.

"There is no argument. Do as I say, or you will be terminated, effective immediately." Detective Zone and Detective Gagger took their badges and guns and put them on Captain Nylon's desk. They slunk back to their own desks. Glad to not be yelled at anymore, but also a little nervous about what the Captain was up to. They sat down. Gagger, who was now looking hungover, said:

"Dude, what the hell was that?" He was whispering. The other police officers were looking at them, but trying to do it without the detectives noticing. Zone said, very loud for everyone to hear:

"Don't you fuckers worry, we are still here! You can't rid of us that easy. Choo-choo, I am looking at you!"

"Please don't call me Choo-choo." Choo-choo said.

"Everyone knows you run trains, buddy." Zone said. Choo-choo pretended to go back to work. He really didn't like Zone. But Zone was right, he did, actually, enjoy running trains. Zone whispered to Gagger with his mouth full of marbles:

"I think the Cappy is up to something, man, I think we might be taking a road trip."

"No," Gagger whispered. "He's just going to give us some time off. You saw him waver on the gun stuff, right? The badges, man, he is up to something for sure, but there is no way he is sending us away, that doesn't jibe, man, that doesn't jibe at all."

"You'll see." Zone whispered. He was sobering up now. He was getting a headache and he wished he could take a nap. "Coffee? I got a turd burning a hole in my butthole, but that damn turkey sandwich from yesterday is roosting like a pool cue. If I don't hydrate, I might corner pocket my dairy air, dog."

"Stop being so negative, man. You really think we are going to have to take the cure?

"And then some. Dude, you saw his face. Our gooses are well done, man. We'll be lucky if we don't end up spitting on somebodies farm by tomorrow."

"Fuck, really?"

"Yeah, really. I am getting some coffee, you want some?"

"Nah, I'm good."

For the rest of the morning Detective Zone and Detective Gagger sat at their desks. Pretending to do paperwork. They mostly were hungover and were wishing they could dip out and get a drink around the corner from the precinct. A cordial, or something. Something to take the edge off. But they were in trouble. Waiting to be punished for their bad behavior. Zone was thinking they would be sent up-State somewhere to take the cure. Gagger was convinced that they would just get sent home for the week. To think about what they did, and how it was wrong. He spent the morning trying to meet up with the new female police officer that had just come from academy. Maybe she wanted to get a drink after work or something. Zone knew things were more serious. He really did want to take a nap. The day was going to be long. Periodically he looked into Captain Nylon's office. He was on the phone all morning. Just after noon the Captain got out from behind his desk and walked to the door. He opened it. He said:

"Zone, Gagger, please come in here." Zone and Gagger went in there. The Captain told them to shut the door. They stood there stinking. Now with a coffee smell from Zone. The Captain said:

"Okay, look, you two are my best guys, but you really are the worst. I can't deal with this shit anymore. You will either get us all fired, or worse. And as such, I have arranged for you two to go up to this nice town in Vermont to take the cure. You sons of bitches need to clean up. You do. And you have no choice. You either do this, or you are no longer police officers. The Union has agreed, and the HR department has agreed. But it is up to you. Your choice. Take it or leave it. But as your Captain, your friend, you idiot mother fuckers, you are about the stupidest mother fuckers in town, and I don't say that lightly, if you don't do this, you are done, and very done, and I hope that you choose the right thing, because you idiots need to clean up, and now, and if you don't the press is going to kill us. Do you understand?"

"But I don't want to go to Vermont." Gagger whined. "My girlfriend will be pissed."

"Sounds alright to me. Free food?" Zone marbled.

"Free food, free lodging, you just need to stay clean for a while. And then you idiots can come back, nothing different."

"Vermont, huh? That's like maple syrup or something?" Zone was thinking about pancakes. It had been a while since he had eaten any pancakes. The idea of some fresh air also sounded nice. He was into the idea. Detective Gagger was not into the idea. He said:

"Are there babes up there? Vermont seems like nothing but dogs." Captain Nylon said:

"There is a car waiting outside for you. It'll take you home so you can pack. Then drive you up to the town. I'm sorry, but you have no choice. They gave me permission to fire your asses. Or this."

"Sign me up!" Zone said. He could use some time off. Free food. Doing nothing but hanging around. Gagger was more skeptical, but then he realized that not having a job and trying to figure out where his next paycheck was coming from was not worth the fight. He said:

"Yeah, alright, Hannah will be fine. She has that thing already anyway."

And that was that. Detective Zone and Detective Gagger walked down to the street and got into the cruiser waiting for them. They drove first to Bed-Stuy where Gagger lived. He went upstairs and packed a bag. He came back down. He was half drunk because he had sucked down half a pint of vodka when he was up there. He put bottle in the bag. For later. After that they drove over to Brooklyn Heights so Zone could do the same. And he did the exact same. Drinking half a bottle of vodka before coming back down. Putting the bottle in his bag. After that the cruiser got on the BQE going North. Or East as it was. The two detectives were not comfortable. The seats were made of plastic in case people puked. The driver didn't say anything. There was a barrier anyway. Even if he had said something they wouldn't have heard it. After a while they both fell asleep. There were no seatbelts. This detail crept into Zone's mind as he was sleeping. He dreamed of the car crashing. Of going though the windshield. When he woke up they were no longer on the interstate. There were trees everywhere and the cruiser was not driving very fast. Zone knocked on the partition. The driver pulled the plastic window to the side. He said:

"Yeah?" Zone could see the guys eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Vermont?" Zone sighed.

"Yup."

The driver closed the plastic window again. Zone felt like shit. The double hangover combined with the plastic seats made his body ache. He looked over at Gagger, who was waking up. Zone was thirsty, but there was nothing to drink. He took the half filled bottle of vodka out of his bag and put it to his dry lips. He suddenly regretted agreeing to this plan. He tried to roll the window down, but the toggle thing didn't work. Gagger was now awake. He said:

"Where the hell are we?" Zone used the only information he had, he said:

"Vermont, I guess."

"Fuck, this sucks." Gagger sat up. Trying to stretch a little. The plastic seat digging into his body. The blood pooling where his legs met the seat. He was ready to get out of the car.

"Yeah. Whoops, right?"

"Stop being so negative, man."