The Day of James Ellison’s Demise
By EJKatz
“Tonight, we
bring you distressing news. We have
just received word that Cascade’s Officer of the Year, Detective James Ellison
is missing and presumed dead off the coast of Cascade. Detective Ellison was in pursuit of three
armed criminal’s who had taken to the water in order to effect their
escape. Ellison was following when a
bullet hit the engine of his boat and it exploded on contact. Rescue efforts are under way. More on this story as it unfolds. This is Don Hass, live at the Cascade
Pier. Back to you in the studio...”
~*~*~*~
The sun’s rising was obscured by a thick layer of
hostile gray cloud cover. There was no
indication of sunlight other than the slight lessening of the overcast hues,
which lay over the city. It was a
dreary day but it suited the mood of the inhabitants that morning.
The
night before had brought not only the end to a major crime wave but also an
unfortunate loss of one of the city’s greatest Detectives. A tragic accident they say though the
investigation into his death and the cause thereof was still underway. No body had been recovered as yet but the
explosion had not left much to be found.
While the city mourned and yet prayed that the
investigators were wrong, one man wept in silence for the lost of his friend
and his reason for continuation. His
countenance once full of life and exuberance was now gaunt with a sadness by
which all who witnessed it were consumed.
Blair Sandburg stood on the pier watching the dive
boats as the rescuers worked to bring up the wreckage and attempted to recover
the body of one Detective James Ellison.
Simon Banks stood off to one side and kept one weary
eye on his observer and the other on the rescue efforts. He felt the loss also, though not as
intensely as the young student did. Jim
had been his good friend also though to be honest, much had been due to the
young man’s positive influence on the brooding detective.
The three men that Ellison had been chasing had
taken off in a small speedboat towards the open sea. Gunfire had erupted and one stray bullet had caught the engine of
Ellison’s own mode of transport causing an immense explosion. Back up arrived in time to witness the ball
of flame and to capture the three gunmen but unfortunately not soon enough to
save the life of their comrade in arms.
They too felt a heavy loss.
“Blair?” A
quiet voice asked. Mechanically, the
observer turned ever so slightly to acknowledge Simon’s secretary. Rhonda had come out on Simon’s call to look
out for the young man who was beyond distraught. She handed him a cup of steaming broth.
“I thought this might be better than coffee. Get something more nourishing into you. It is just chicken broth.”
Blair accepted the cup, knowing it was easier than
arguing. He sipped the broth slowly;
oblivious to what he drank. His mind
too lost in its tormented grief and too focused on not thinking about what was
to come next.
As he watched through tear soaked eyes the coast guard
divers brought up another piece of what had once been the boat that had
destroyed his life. It was the bow
piece almost completely intact yet disconnected from the rest of the boat by
jagged black tears. Evidence of the
explosion.
It seemed so beyond hope. Beyond finding anything to restore the hope that had died so
violent a death less than twelve hours before.
Twelve hours.
That was all the time that was needed to send him from
life to death himself. It no longer
mattered if and when they found the body.
Blair knew in his heart that his best friend was dead. Whether they located the mortal remains of
Detective James Ellison or not was of little consequence at this point. All he wanted to do now was curl up in a
ball and follow. There was nothing left
that would keep him grounded in this life and the worst part was that he'd
never had the opportunity to tell Jim how he truly felt.
He knew that most people who thought they knew him,
Jim included, thought that his friendship with Jim was merely for his dissertation
but little did any of them really know that Jim Ellison, Man and Friend, he was
Blair’s life and the only person he'd ever really loved.
*****
Simon watched as the cup of once hot broth hit the
ground. He watched as more tears filled
and fell from his young friend’s eyes.
He knew well the despair he read within the watery depths. He’d both seen it and experienced it himself
on far too many occasions, though he would admit, never to this extent.
Here, now, he was faced with the true depths of
friendship experienced by two such different men. So diverse in personality and yet the same in what mattered
most. Their hearts were the same. In more ways than one.
Simon had envied the relationship between the two men
until this moment. He couldn’t imagine
losing anyone that close. Mind you he
hadn’t anyone that close other than his son and to think of losing him tore his
very soul to shreds and if it was any indication of what Blair was going
through he didn’t envy the young man.
Simon’s own heart broke to hear the heart-wrenching
sounds of sobs desperately trying to be restrained. It hurt him to know that he was unable to do anything to comfort
the young man and Simon feared for Blair's life. If the body turned up it confirmed that Jim was indeed dead and
in no time at all, Blair would waste away until he followed Jim. If no body turned up then Blair would never
know for sure what happened and that would just as surely kill him, just more
slowly.
Hours into recovery and no body had yet been found. No trace that anyone had been on board the
boat. Of course, the ocean water would
wash away any traces of blood but there should still be something, anything. Perhaps now the daylight, such that it was,
would reveal more.
Simon had heard the call of the accident come over the
police scanner at the same time that his cell phone had rung. By the time he had arrived at the pier,
reporters had begun to gather. They were a subdued crowd who watched and waited
in silent respect for the man’s partner.
They seemed to sense the solemn air and the tense anxiety of all the
officers who also waited for word.
Simon turned slightly to acknowledge Rhonda’s presence
once more at his side. He could see her
carefully tuned awareness on the police observer, tears of her own streaking
her face.
“What’ll happen to Blair, Simon? If Jim is really dead, how will Blair
survive?” The pain of recognition in
her voice was brutally obvious to the Police Captain. In a way it was a good thing too because he had no idea how to
really answer her question. He was
positive that Blair would die too but how could he tell Rhonda that without it
sounding harsh and unfeeling.
Several hours later the Captain of the salvage
operation approached Banks.
“Captain Banks?”
He approached cautiously. “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve recovered most of the boat. The wreckage has covered more miles than we had anticipated due
to the unusually strong currents this time of year. Your Detective’s body could be already out to deep sea by
now. Coast Guard is going to look
further out but they aren’t holding out much hope. I am sorry.”
Simon nodded his thanks at the man as Rhonda turned to
him with a sob. He wrapped his arms
around her in a futile attempt to offer solace.
Over her head Simon caught Blair’s flat gaze. He’d heard the news. That much was obvious from the slightly
glazed look in his eyes and the sudden loss of all colour in his face. The emotions that he hadn’t been able to
hold back before now flooded through him but were too intense to come out. They were merely reflected back at Simon
through the most expressive blue eyes.
Those same eyes that rolled back into his head as
Blair collapsed in a heap.
~*~*~*~
“How’s he doing?”
A voice queried.
“Still out of it.”
A whispered voice replied over his head as consciousness slowly leaked
back. He tried to open his eyes but
memory flooded back and he bit back a groan of anguish.
Too late, the voices had heard.
“Blair. Take
it easy, son. Are you awake?” Simon’s gruff voice asked. A large hand reached out and pushed away
some hair that had fallen over his eyes.
Blair could feel the silken strands as they whispered across his face. The gesture was so like Jim that the tears
began to well again and he knew if he opened his eyes he wouldn’t be able to
see anyway, so he shook his head against the request.
‘It’s over.”
He thought, “Jim’s gone and everything is over.”
“What was that, Sandburg.” Simon asked and Blair realized he’d spoken out loud.
“Jim’s gone.”
He murmured a little louder for Simon’s benefit. The words slashed through him once more,
bringing the overwhelming agony of loss.
His heart felt mutilated by the knowledge that his best friend was gone,
never to be seen or heard from or argued with again. His very soul was gone, and he felt bereft, a barren vessel with
nothing to fill it.
With that thought giving him no comfort, he let the
sorrow and tears take him back to the dark places of oblivion.
~*~*~*~