THE BOLAN CHRONICLES: Reading #2

2. Approximate Minutes Reading (AMR): 12

Introduction to Characters:

Dean Palmer: Bridgeport (CT) Police Officer

THE BOLAN CHRONICLES

Chapter 1

Jake and Donna

**Officer Dean Palmer and the Ride-Alongs**

“Occupations Day” was an 8^th grade standard in the Bridgeport school district. At Wooster, various adults had volunteered to report on their typical workday in a 30-minute presentation. When Jake heard his English teacher mention a police officer, he nearly came out of his chair. The officer was third on the list following a cook and a restaurant manager. Jake shot a short note to one of his friends seated in front of him. Why the hell would anyone want to become a cook? Probably ‘cause their fags! After reading the note, his friend leaned back and whispered, “You spelled ‘they’re’ wrong, Bolan.”  

Jake quickly replied, “So is it a teacher that you want to be, you and your spelling lesson? A cook. A teacher. No difference. Both prissy-fag jobs.” His friend rolled his eyes and chuckled. Jake was an expert name-caller. His ability to criticize anything and anyone with a clever and unique title almost always afforded him a laugh. 

He yawned his way through the cook’s discussion of walk-in boxes and culinary knives, and Jake couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his buddies as a Denny’s shift manager enthusiastically told the class about the feeling of accomplishment as he drove home every morning knowing that he’d helped to make someone’s night--a truck driver, an elderly man with insomnia--just a little bit better. “Lord god almighty.” Jake said under his breath. He covered his face and slouched in his chair.  

Officer Dean Palmer was next. He had been on the force for five years. He stood five foot ten. His short brown hair accentuated a rather large pair of ears. He was thin and gangly, but to Jake, he stood ten foot and ruled the city. To Jake, this man was the ultimate everything. To Jake, he had the kind of power that all boys with dreams of someday becoming real men aspire to. He was a kind of god. He was a kind of Pete Malloy of Adam-12 with his peaked cap and his nightstick and pistol.

And he had Jake’s rapt attention from the moment he walked into the room and began to speak. With an authoritative low tone he announced, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m officer Dean Palmer.” The students were frozen in their places, not a move from any of the young teens. “I’m a Bridgeport police officer, and I (thumb in his chest) look out (finger pointed at the crowd of students) for you.” Some of the students looked at one another and smiled. He informed the students of the hierarchy of police ranks and of the history of the police department in Bridgeport and of various standard procedures learned by all officers who first join the Department. With a slight grin he said, “I may administer a pop quiz when I’m finished here, so pay close attention.” 

Officer Palmer began to pace the front of the room, gazing into the eyes of one student, then another. Jake grinned and looked around. They’re amazed at his coolness. He thought. The more the officer spoke, the more enthralled the students became. He told stories ranging from the administering of moving violations to the chasing down of armed felons and everything in between. He emphasized things by standing high on his toes. “And if you think that being a police officer is a fun job, think again, boys and girls.” His volume had slowly increased to match the emphasis he sought to place on his importance. “I’m sure that by this age you have been told that Bridgeport is one of the most dangerous cities in Connecticut.” And here he quieted a bit, “Well, unfortunately, it’s true (now on his tippy toes). For an officer such as myself, being on the defensive is second nature (now flat-footed and low-toned). It’s not a job for everyone.” Jake was on the edge of his seat. He was watching a master. 

When it came time, Jake asked all the right questions. Officer Palmer was all too happy to detail the various times he’d had to tackle a fleeing criminal or to pull his pistol from its holster. One of the girls sitting in the front row raised her hand and asked if he’d ever actually had to shoot his gun. All eyes returned to Palmer. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that matter with children, young lady, but let’s just say, once again, that this is not a job for the weak at heart.” The girl nodded quickly, sat back, looked around at her peers, and thanked him. 

When he’d finished his presentation, the officer said, “Time for that pop quiz, boys and girls.” The students looked at one another. A boy in the back mumbled something, and a few students giggled. Jake looked at him in disapproval. When Officer Palmer asked what was funny, the mumbling boy replied that he was just nervous about the quiz. “Well, let’s just see if anyone can answer a few questions about rank in the police department.” 

It didn’t surprise Officer Palmer when Jake was the only one capable of answering the final pop quiz question about the order within the ranks of the police department. He rattled it off quickly and in perfect order, “Yes sir, that would be Officer, Detective, Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Inspector, and Chief of Police.”

The students were surprised at his knowledge. “Geez, Louise!” A fat boy in the back row shouted. “How’d you know that, Bolan?”  

Jake looked back at the boy and replied, “Because I’m gonna be a police officer someday, that’s why.” 

The class responded with a sarcastic, “Ooohhh!” 

Then Jake pointed at the fat one, “And I’m comin’ after you!” An eruption of laughter followed. Seeing that he’d captured his audience, he attempted to hold on with another snide comment, “And that’s a quick and easy catch, right big boy?” The sudden hush of the audience caught Jake off-guard. He didn’t quite know what to do to re-gain his audience, so he turned to the policeman and asked, “Am I the first kid that you’ve ever seen do that?”

The officer asked, “What’s that, young man?”

“You know,” Jake replied, “Tell all of the ranks?”

“Oh, yes you are, future police officer.”

It was the most impactful combination of words that Jake had ever heard. Here was a man who really knew about what Jake wanted. And he knew about what Jake wanted because he was living the life that Jake wanted to live, and it was clear that this police officer loved his job. It was not your typical nine-to-five, the same mundane monotony every day. It was a real man’s job, and Jake had no doubt that he would be a real man real soon. He smiled at the officer and replied, “Yep. That’s what I’m gonna be.” 

Officer Palmer smiled and said, “Atta boy!” Then he pulled a small piece of paper from his vest pocket and announced, “Every year, one student from Wooster Middle School wins a ride-along with a Bridgeport police officer for one shift.” After explaining ‘shift,’ he raised the ticket above his head, “This is a ride-along ticket. This year, that police officer is me, and this year, that student is the young man who just answered a very difficult question with one hundred percent accuracy.”  

Jake looked around, “Yes!” He raised both hands, fingers splayed. And despite the lack of peer response, he blurted, “Yeah, baby!”

A tall, gangly boy who hadn’t said a word throughout the entire period, shouted, “Oh, geez! Give it a rest, little policeman!”  

Jake gazed at the boy and smirked. A couple of Jake’s friends lightly applauded him as he took the ticket from the officer and shook his hand. Fat boy in the back received a louder applause when he snorted, “Skinny little putz!” He had been waiting for his shoot-back moment. The comment had been on hold, and the moment it left his mouth, the fat one knew that it would be good. Jake barely noticed. He considered himself boy-hero at Wooster Middle. He had just won a ride-along with a real live policeman, and he was just sure that he had made an impression on his peers that would stay with them for a long time. 

His mom was standing in front of the television when Jake walked through the door. It wasn’t often that he had something to say to her about school, but today was different; a rare occasion, indeed.  

“Mom! I bet you won’t guess what happened today!”

His mom was surprised at his excitement, but she was immediately sure that this happening couldn’t have been anything good--probably a fight.

“Oh, my. What happened?”

“I’m going on a ride-along with a police officer. He came to our class today, and he asked a question about police stuff, and I got the question right. He’s gonna call you soon and tell you about it.”

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

A tad frustrated, Jake replied, “I just told you. I’m going on a ride-along with a police officer, and he’s calling you soon to tell you about it.”

“Well, sit down, Jake, and tell me all about…”  

Before she could finish, Jake bolted toward the kitchen, shouting, “Oh, just never mind! Watch your General Hospital show.” Jake had been less than respectful with his mother for most of his short life, but pubescence had set in, and sarcasm now reared its ugly head on a regular basis. 

“Jake, tell me more about this!” She implored.

Jake threw the refrigerator door open and replied, “You can talk to him about it when he calls you. I’m hungry.”

So his mother did turn back to her show. In fact, though she was surprised at this sudden announcement from her otherwise secretive young teenage son, she was also happy that she wouldn’t be missing more of the soap opera that she had adored for the past decade. And besides, she could ask all the questions she wanted when this police officer called, if, in fact, he actually did call, and if, in fact, this entire police ride-along thing was really to be.

When Mr. Bolan arrived home from work, Jake ran out of his room and greeted his dad with the same message that he had given his mother. His dad seemed somewhat disinterested, though he did ask a couple of questions about when and where, but that was the extent of his involvement. He patted Jake on the shoulder and said, “Well, good for you, Jake. Maybe you’ll change your mind about being a big, tough policeman when you find out what it’s really like.” He half-grinned and continued, “And to think that those poor stiffs don’t make much more than a toothy-grinned school teacher who watches snot-nosed kids all day long. A shame, to be sure.” Then he paused and looked down at Jake. “Not you, of course, Jake. You’re not snot-nosed; just a kid.”

Jake sat on his bed and thought about what his dad had just said. A police officer making not much more than a schoolteacher was hard to imagine, but he knew that it must be true. His father knew everything about money and who makes a lot of it and who doesn’t. “I don’t give a good god damn!” Jake mumbled.  

The Rookies poster was tacked on the wall just across from him. He looked at the brave faces of the three young cops who made, according to his father, about the same amount of money as his teachers. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He wondered how in the world a cop could be married and have kids without making lots of money. And then he realized that he could find out the truth when he rode along with his new police officer friend.

The three days that passed before the phone call finally arrived were long for Jake. He’d come through the front door each day and had disrupted his mother’s favorite television show, asking if she had received the call. When she’d said no, he’d slammed the door behind him after he’d entered his bedroom. With the arrival of the long-awaited phone call, Jake’s mom was apprised of the details of the school program and its connection with the police department. She was to sign a form indicating her understanding and acceptance of the risks involved in an officer ride-along. To keep Jake from hounding her over the matter, she drove to the department the next day and took care of the form. On the following Saturday, Officer Malloy pulled up in his police unit, introduced himself to Jake’s parents, and in short order, he and Jake were off.

 The ride-along wasn’t so much a life-changer as it was a career confirmation. And Officer Palmer was thoroughly impressed with the charisma and bravery of the thirteen-year-old throughout the evening shift. When Palmer was forced to increase his speed to nearly double the 30 MPH speed limit in order to gain the attention of a possible drunk driver, Jake simply looked over at his new hero and smiled. Palmer told Jake that even though ride-along’s were normally limited to one per year, he would make an exception for an “up-and-coming.” Jake was beside himself.

And Officer Palmer did make an exception…many exceptions, in fact. By high school, Jake had become a monthly passenger. Officer Dean Palmer the trainer, up-and-coming Jake Bolan, the enthusiastic trainee.  

The two had spent many hours together in the police car, and Jake had picked up on everything that he could. He listened carefully to every police dispatcher message. Officer Palmer sensed Jake’s natural inclination for police work, and he insisted that Jake ask any and all questions. So Jake did ask questions. He asked both simple and complicated questions, including questions about a police officer’s pay scale. His father had been nearly correct. A police officer made more than a teacher, though not enough to brag about. But the excitement of the job was more than compensation for a fat paycheck. 

“You’ll do well, Officer Bolan,” Palmer once commented. “You know the ranks well, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Aim high, Chief of Police, Bolan, and money will be the least of your worries.”

Jake turned his gaze from the police officer, stared out the window, and smiled. He knew that he would do well.