My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center April fools
HPD Sgt. Mits Ah Sun picked up a photocopy of an old news story from the table beside his son Quinn's bed. Glancing at the paper, Mits saw that it was a Star-Bulletin police blotter item from 1981, about the disappearance of "popular entertainer Clarence 'Bobo' Ah Sun."
"What the hell is this?" Mits said, already knowing the answer. And the answer gave him a sore stomach.
"You got me," Quinn said. "The nurse, the one who just left, found it under the chair over there."
The nurse, he didn't add, who was able to make him feel better with her presence, her smile, her touch. Nina Ramones, the world's greatest nurse, had only been gone a minute, but already Quinn was missing her.
"I think somebody is playing games with you," his father said.
"Who?"
But no sooner had Quinn asked the question than the answer hit him in the heart. His cousin Lily, that's who. He'd asked her to research their family name at the State library, focusing on 21 years ago when their fathers quit speaking and tore the family apart. This lone piece of paper was apparently the result. And then just minutes ago he'd called her home and heard Lily telling her maid to tell Quinn he could "go straight to hell." Quinn could only guess that the mysterious Bobo had something to do with her dramatic reversal of affection.
Mits saw the doubt on his son's face, and was glad. That was his reason for sending Gwen Roselovich to visit Quinn, to interfere with Quinn and Lily's rekindled relationship. And it worked. Gwen had reported back to Mits with a stack of similar photocopies, which she'd gathered up after Lily threw them at Gwen when she found her here with Quinn. Obviously Gwen missed this crucial sheet. But on the upside, it only added further doubt to Quinn's mind. Mits was sorry for the hurt that he also saw in his son's eyes. But he was a big boy now, a cop himself. And the last thing Mits and his brother Sheets needed was their kids snooping around in ancient family history.
"Makes no sense," Mits said and crumpled the photocopy between his hands into a ball, then tossed it in the wastebasket.
"Three-pointer," Quinn said. "But, hey, Pops, who's Bobo Ah Sun? I never heard of him."
Mits paused a heartbeat too long before answering. "Me neither."
He's lying, Quinn thought. In that moment, he knew that his father had been lying for 21 years about why he and his brother Sheets quit speaking.
And Quinn was right.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com