Jake Slade

Ward

CHAPTER

1

Jake sat bolt upright in bed, with beads of sweat pouring down his unshaven face. His soaking wet bed sheets were a tangled mass of synthetic cloth bunched up in the middle of his bed, a mute testament to his restlessness in the night. Well, he’ll wash them later. A flash of lightning momentarily lit his reflection on the glass window leading out to his balcony, followed immediately by a crack of thunder that reverberated throughout his tiny two-bedroom flat and subsequently, rattled his teeth. His breathing was coming in short, raspy pants, so much so, that he had to consciously force himself to calm down and regain control of his breathing before he hyperventilated. After concentrating for a few moments, his breathing started to sound more normal and he began to catch his breath again. He began to think clearly again. He realized that he was holding his pistol in his shaky, sweaty hand. After carefully placing the laser pistol on his nightstand, and ensuring the safety was set, he began to calm down. He stared out into the semi-darkness of his bedroom, as his eyes slowly adjusted. He saw the shadowy outline of his grey, tiger-striped cat, Major Tom, and realized what had happened. He’s been having the same night-mare every night for the past two years. He scrubbed his face with his hands, hand combed his sweaty hair up out of his eyes, and got up out of bed. He slowly walked to the window on weak, shaky legs. The cold gleaming sweat on his body was causing him to have slight chills and was raising goose flesh on his exposed skin, but that was the least of his concerns. Gazing out into the stormy Chicago night, Jake clenched his fists tightly together, trying hard to keep his hands from shaking. He squeezed his hands so tight that he could feel his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He knew what he had to do and he despised it. He hated taking drugs, but he knew that his hands wouldn’t stop shaking until he took them, and by the time the shaking stopped, he would be too far out of it to remember anything, especially the nightmares.

Jake’s doctor recommended only taking one pill to help him sleep, but Jake knew that one wouldn’t keep him from dreaming so he took two of the little red pills out of the bottle and swigged them down with a swallow of tepid, stale water from a glass on his nightstand and waited. He made his way to an old, beat up recliner in the corner of the room. He couldn’t remember where he had gotten it from, but sat down and waited to fall into the oblivion of sleep. He stared out into the darkness and tried not to remember…

Seventeen years ago…

Jake, Jake, Frank yelled, where are you, you old son of a gun?

Jake looked at his partner from across the room, waved and yelled, I’m over here Frank. Jake knew that Frank was already way into his cups by this time, even though it was Jake’s time to celebrate. Jake wasn’t much of a drinker and would rather keep his wits about him at all times. They were celebrating Jake’s new promotion to Detective First Grade. Frank always knew how to have fun at a party.

Everyone, everyone listen, I’d like to make a toast. Here’s to the best partner a cop could ever have, slurred Frank. To the youngest detective in the history of the Chicago P.D. Well done pal, you deserve it. Everyone turned to Jake and applauded and gave the customary platitudes of great job and good going. He appreciated all of the accolades that his friends and co-workers heaped upon him, even though it made him a little self-conscience. Jake had been lucky and gotten a few good breaks on several high profile cases, which put him in the spotlight. Jake was always worried that his fellow cops were jealous of him, but he couldn’t help how they felt, his star was rising and tonight it was all about him.

Jake noticed that Frank was hanging all over a girl who worked down in the clerical office. Her name was Tina. Frank had been seeing Tina for about a week and swore she was the one. He always said that about his current fling, only to get hurt a few weeks or months later. He’d never learn.

Frank and Tina came over and Tina said, Jake, we are so proud of you. I want you to meet a friend of mine, her name is Barbara Gordon.

Jake was a little embarrassed, he told Frank not to try and hook him up with their friends but Tina never listened.

Jake stuck out his hand and shyly said, Hi, I’m Jake Slade.

Barbara giggled a little and replied, I know, I heard this was your party.

Jake looked down trying not to stare and make eye contact with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Barbara noticed Jake’s shyness and smiled. She reached out her hand and very lightly took his hand and gave it a firm shake. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Slade.

Fifteen years ago…

Barb, come on honey, we have to go meet Frank and his new girlfriend for dinner.

Why did he ever break up with Tina? she inquired, as she fixed her makeup in the mirror of the apartment.

Who knows, something about her wanting to go find herself or some garbage like that. She was your friend, didn’t she tell you? Jake asked.

She didn’t say, just one day she was getting on a boat to the Bahamas. I haven’t heard from her since. It might’ve had something to do with that ship’s captain she was raving about. She was always a little flighty anyway, Barbara said dismissively.

Ok, Jake said nervously, oh, and one more thing…

She came around the corner of the room and found Jake down on one knee, holding an open ring box. Her eyes went wide and she said in a surprised voice, Jake, what are you doing?

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile and I think this is the right time to say, Barb, these last two years have been the greatest of my life. Ever since I met you, my life has been getting better and better. I can’t think of a single reason not to continue our relationship, but at a higher level. That sounded stupid, what I’m trying to say is, Barbara Gordon will you do me the honor of going through life with me and becoming my wife? Jake removed the ring from the box and held it up for her to see. It wasn’t a bad ring, barely one full carat on a setting of 18-carat gold. It was all Jake could afford right now.

Barbara stood there with her hands over her mouth. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she was speechless for once. In a squeaky, little voice overcome with emotion, she managed to say, Yes, oh Jake yes, yes, yes I will marry you. I love you so much.

Jake placed the ring on her finger, stood up, kissed and hugged her and said, I love you so much, too. I can’t imagine my life without you, I’d be lost.

Barbara said in a teary voice, Don’t worry, baby, you’ve got me for the long haul. You’re never going to lose me. She kissed him again.

Today…

Jakes eyes wandered around the room waiting for the pills to take effect. They finally settled on his dresser, as they always did, and stared at a picture frame standing in the corner. The frame held a photograph taken two years ago of his beloved wife and their best friend, Frank. He didn’t need to see the photo to know how she looked. He had memorized every detail of it. Barbara’s long red hair was pulled back with a hair tie, her bright blue eyes were shining in the sunlight. Blue shorts to match her beautiful eyes. Dark brown tan from too much sun, but it suited her. Frank on her left and Jake on her right, and all three wearing those gaudy Hawaiian shirts that Barbara made them buy. Frank had just made a comment that got all of them laughing and having a good time. They were on vacation in Key West, down on Mallory Square at the Sunset Festival. A passing tourist who was just being nice took the photo. It was Jake’s favorite photo. It reminded him of better times when the world was simpler and he was just a cop. Who could’ve guessed that a few days later would be the last time Jake would see her alive. Tears rolled down Jake’s face as he remembered her touch on that last day. The soft touch of her lips pressed against his. She smelled like sunshine and orange soap. He remembered her last words as she got on an airplane to go visit her family for a few days in Orlando, I love you Jake Slade. See you in the funny papers. That was an inside joke for them. They both loved reading the Sunday funnies to each other at the breakfast table. She turned around at the top of the entryway and smiled a dazzling smile and waved goodbye. Then she was gone. Jake and Frank had decided to stay a few more days to get in some fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. They got the news that day when they returned from a not so successful day of fishing. Barbara’s plane had crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. There were no survivors.

Jake was devastated. Frank was in shock, and neither man knew the reason why this tragedy had happened. The National Transportation and Safety Board (NTSB) said it was engine failure, but couldn’t explain how or why. No bodies were recovered.

Jake’s head lolled forward and rested on his chest as his eyes closed, the tears were drying on his face as Major Tom watched his master and quietly purred.

The next day Jake woke up about noon. The drugs he took for the nightmares made him feel as if he was on a five-day drinking binge. Normally that would be all right except for the fact that he hadn’t had a drink in nearly two years. Major Tom was in his usual spot at the foot of the bed. He looked up with only casual interest. He saw that his master was still alive after the rough night, gave him a good morning meow, and decided he needed a bath before breakfast.

Jake went into the bathroom and took the hottest shower he could stand. It wasn’t all that hot since his landlord wouldn’t fix the water heater in the basement. Jake wasn’t happy about the quality of the water either. Ever since the quake nothing had been as good as it used to be, but it was all he had. No use in griping about something you can’t do anything about, he thought. When he was finished he felt a little better. Looking into the mirror, he saw a face that had more battle lines on it than the fourth Gulf War. It just confirmed what he already knew: he still looked bad. He just smiled and said to himself, I don’t look so bad for 45, but I sure feel like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes. The self-affirmation didn’t help any. He picked up his old double-edged razor and started shaving across what looked like miles of wrinkles. Maybe it was a trick of the light in his eyes. He just shook his head, chuckled and continued shaving.

He got dressed in his usual working suit that had clearly seen too many days. It wasn’t his best outfit, but he wasn’t going to a fashion show, it was just work, and besides he left his best suit for his funeral.

He had his usual breakfast of black synthetic coffee with two pieces, of what was supposed to be, dry white toast. It was at that moment that Major Tom walked in and demanded, in not so subtle tones, to be fed his breakfast. The cat had belonged to Barbara and it was the last thing Jake had of hers. For some reason Major Tom had attached him-self to Jake and considered him to be his servant, as cats are inclined to do.

Jake saw him enter the