The chief laughed. There goes my appetite.
Not too desensitized, after all, I guess. Thank God for that.
Part Two
I have been lucky — I have never actually seen someone right after they died.
But I've come damn close. Same job as above, same police department. There was a report of a head-on collision on the highway. I drive as far as I can before I hit gridlock and then pull into a driveway and walk the rest of the way.
The ambulance was just taking off so I made my way over to the cop on duty.
What happened? He gave me a rough outline and said he'd give me the particulars later by phone. Anyone injured? "Nope," he said.
I start to leave and hear him say, "Watch your step."
I looked down. It's a blanket. It's covering something. Something, um, body-like. Aw, shit. He's watching me and says he doesn't have the person's name yet, but she was the driver.
I began trembling. I was just glad the blanket was there. While I was walking back to my car, several people shouted out an inquiry about what happened but I ignored them.
One guy stopped me, though, and asked if it was a fatal accident. I nodded and continued walking away, shaken by yet another fatal accident I had to cover. Was it the person driving the truck? I nodded again.
And then I stopped. He was now the one shaking. Ah, hell. I walked back to him. Seeing the question in my eyes he said, "That's my wife. She was just going to the store and when she didn't come back I came over here." He gave me his name.
I felt like crap. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I'd actually appreciated that I don't usually deal with the relatives until the news has been broken by someone else.
I walked him down towards the accident and the officer on duty, watching all this impassively, began walking towards him. I wanted to hug the new widower but all I could do was mumble something about how sad and sorry I was and head back to work.
"Was it a fatal?" my editor asked.
"Yup."
"Do you have the name of the victim?"
"Well, it's complicated," I said. I went and threw up before explaining the situation.
Sometimes I miss the police beat. Sometimes I don't.
Article comments
1 - green man
i dont get it !!!
2 - duane
Well, green man, Scott wrote an essay, based on his own experiences, describing circumstances that created an inner struggle that pitted his need to preserve and protect his feelings of humanity against desensitization in the face of situations where desensitization can, and maybe should, play a vital role in maintaining an even keel. He hints at the emotional toughness of men and women who witness death and mayhem on an almost daily basis, but seems to express some gratified relief that he got out before he abandoned his sympathy and empathy. It also hints at our perverse, but all too human, proclivity to be fascinated by the misfortunes of others, sometimes at the expense of the victims and their loved ones.
The essay was written with a, let's say, 'staccato' string of understated sentences, and a sense of immediacy was conveyed by writing in the present tense, although tenses do get mixed here and there. The vocabulary was by intention kept simple. There was no omniscient narrator to explicate the proceedings from a detached point of view, which allows the reader to more easily insert himself into the scenes presented.
Quite effective.
3 - Scott Butki
Thanks a lot, Duane. I think you put it better than I did.
4 - Scott Butki
I think I'm going to ask Duane to follow me around to explain all of my pieces.