Beast of Burden

Same Ol' Situation

    As Chief Goode was drowning in a sea of paperwork, there was a timid knock on his door.  His clock read 3:15, he was not expecting anybody until 3:45.  Thinking it was his new assistant pestering him again, he opened the door disgruntled and scowling.  When a young girl awaited him, dressed extremely professionally in a preppy plaid skirt suit and peering in curiously, he took a step back and changed his disposition.

"Why, hello," He attempted in a polite tone, slightly riddled with condescension, "Would you be a Ms. Jaqueline Gonzalez?"  

She nodded firmly, gripping her notebooks nervously, "Yes, sir."

"Ah, well you sure are early," He commented with slight irritation, still attempting to remain friendly and light with the young girl, "But that's alright.  Please, come in.  Take a seat."

She walked boldly into the cramped office and sat with a sense of achievement.  Chief Goode observed her young excitement and confidence as naivety and innocence, something he viewed with contempt but also jealousy.  He had watched many young, bright faces walk into this station and leave with dark circles and dull eyes.  Still, he relished in her eagerness.

"So," He began, clumsily pushing all of the papers on his desk to the side, "Tell me a bit about yourself, Jaqueline.  Why do you want to pursue this detective case?"

"Well, sir," She began evenly, "Detective work has always been of interest to me.  I excel in problem-solving, logistics, and inferencing.  I am the head of the debate club,  the Academic Decathlon, and a tutor in my free time.  What I really want is a challenge."

Chief Goode did all he could to hide the small smile playing on his lips.  She was so convinced by her own brilliance and superiority within the bubble she had been living in.  Hell, anyone could be deemed a genius in a small town in the middle of Utah.  Every year, they got kids like this.  Full of themselves and coddled by their loved one's ignorance.  He always stuck them with a pen and a notepad, told them that they solved the case, and sent them back on their way.  She would be no different, this would just be a footnote on her laundry list of insignificant awards.

Throwing on a phony smile and handing her a pamphlet, Chief Goode said, "Jacqueline, you are the exact candidate we are looking for the high school detective shadowing experience.  It will be a pleasure to work with you."

Her face shone with elation and relief.  There was something else buried deep within her expression that intrigued Chief Goode, something unsettlingly intelligent and dark, but he shrugged it off as his imagination.  Overall, she seemed satisfied with the interaction, which meant she would be leaving his office, therefore, out of his hair, soon enough.

"Thank you, sir!  It is an honor," She beamed.  Something about her tone was so respectful that it seemed exaggerated, even fake.  What did he care, anyway?  He was faking his own tone, as well.  This was how the interviews went, every year, and that was how the ritual repeated itself.  He subtly motioned for her to leave, thanked her again, and she was off on her way.  Chief Goode watched her walk away for a moment, slightly taken aback by her.  Again, he just shrugged and went back to paperwork.  He wasn't paid enough and certainly did not have enough hours in the day to worry about teenagers.

Unfortunately for him, the clock turned 3:55 and another knock scared him from his focused paperwork.  The other applicant of the shadowing experience had arrived, late of course.  He leaned back and gazed at the ceiling in irritation as if pleading for life's annoyances to go away.  In response, the door was knocked on again, very loudly and aggressively.  

"Mr. Goode?  Are you in there?"

Sighing, Chief Goode opened the door sullenly.

"Yes, yes.  Unfortunately, I am.  I am assuming you're Mike Schmidt."

The boy looked at him peculiarly, "Yes, sir."

Chief Goode analyzed him intensely for a moment as if he were a difficult specimen to understand.  The teenage boy just scowled up at him.  He was the polar opposite of the last girl, dressed in a ripped-up tank top, scuffed-up jeans, and covered in bandages.  While the girl was extremely bright-eyed and well-mannered, this boy was disgruntled and begrudgingly polite.  He spat his words bitterly as if they were poison on his tongue.  Needless to say, he was unlike anyone who applied for the shadowing experience before.  Perhaps he would be interesting to take in, just for the fun of it.

"Alright, well.  Come in.  Take a seat."

The boy lumbered into the cramped office, sat down tiredly, and stared at him resentfully.

"So, Mike.  Tell me about yourself.  Why do you want this detective experience?"

There was silence for a while, then the boy spoke up.

"If I'm being completely honest, sir, my father told me to sign up for this.  But," He took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically, "I am pretty good at Clue, so.  I think this would be pretty similar."

Chief Goode chuckled.

"Well, aren't you blunt?  I appreciate your honesty, Mike.  For that, I'll be honest with you, too.  We only take two applicants for these, usually.  And you happen to be one of the only two."

His half-lidded eyes opened slightly wider.  His interest was piqued, at least slightly.

"If you would actually take this seriously, somewhat, it's yours.  What do you say?"

Mike scrunched his lips in thought and looked around the room.  

"Sure.  Sounds good, sir."

Chief Goode smirked and handed him the pamphlet, "Alright, Mr. Schmidt.  You will meet your partner next Monday when we start the case.  Stay out of trouble, alright?"

The boy nodded affirmatively, "Yes, sir."

"Alright, go ahead."

The boy was already halfway out the door.  As with most things consistent in life, Chief Goode was left alone with his paperwork.  Of course, there was only a two-person motley crew of teenagers applying for the shadowing experience.  After all, who really wanted to give up their time to investigate a wrongful business claim on some crappy family diner down the road.