10-23-2020, 06:46 PM
As Johnny reached the middle of the street, a car sped by nearly clipping him.
A horn blasted as a voice could be heard yelling "What are you doin??"
Johnny caught himself just short of being hit. Two seconds to realize, then back to it.
He was trailing Delicato but not by much. Her sprint was enlivened by purpose, a strong
need to return Home. And that could only happen by catching this, Chester.
She was closing in when with a flash, she threw a heel and took a hard tumble to the pavement.
Johnny raced to her assistance.
"No, no, don't stop! Keep after him! Go! Go!" yelled the dazed Detective.
With no time to lose, Johnny had to make a snap decision. His mind said Go but all
other faculties said Stay. And that's what he did.
"Are you OK?" he questioned, kneeling beside her.
"Don't worry about me, GO, they're getting away!!" she exclaimed.
He took notice of her badly torn stockings and skinned knee.
"You're hurt" he said softly.
"I'm fine! It doesn't matter! What the Hell is wrong with you?" she said in a huff.
Johnny raised himself to a standing position, looking down upon the fallen beauty.
In all of her powerful glory, the all-business "Detective" who always got her man,
lay jarred and angry in the road. The abraded knee, the hair now in her face and
the broken high heel just feet away painted an entirely different picture of who this
lady really was. In the bar, she was Detective Delicato. But here, in this mess on the
street, she was Delia. Not an imposing figure to be reckoned with but a sweet gentle
girl, who for a brief few moments stepped down from her pedestal to join the rest of
us sorry souls in our Everdayhood. She didn't know it, but Johnny saw it all. And that's
when he knew this case was going to be more than he bargained for.
"Please" as he reached down to take her hand.
"I can get up myself!" Delicato barked.
Dusting herself off, she managed to pull herself together just a tad and walked over
to retrieve her lost heel.
"I can't believe you let him get away! This could've been open & shut, TONIGHT, but no
YOU had to stop!" she railed.
As she turned to walk away, Johnny stood staring.
"It wasn't our guy" he said calmly.
Delicato turned sharply to face him.
"And how exactly do you know that?" she puzzled with fury.
He broke a faint smile before answering.
"Because the guy who got away was a local drunk and petty B & E artist. Mitchell Mahoney" he said.
"Must've run him in two dozen times in the last six months. So it wasn't our guy." he continued.
Delicato stood in the dimly lit side street finding her thoughts. Anger melting into embarrassment.
"Well that only means that Chester is STILL out there!" said the Detective.
Johnny walked towards her smiling.
"So I guess that means we've still got work to do" he said coyly.
They walked side by side up the middle of the empty street in silence.
A horn blasted as a voice could be heard yelling "What are you doin??"
Johnny caught himself just short of being hit. Two seconds to realize, then back to it.
He was trailing Delicato but not by much. Her sprint was enlivened by purpose, a strong
need to return Home. And that could only happen by catching this, Chester.
She was closing in when with a flash, she threw a heel and took a hard tumble to the pavement.
Johnny raced to her assistance.
"No, no, don't stop! Keep after him! Go! Go!" yelled the dazed Detective.
With no time to lose, Johnny had to make a snap decision. His mind said Go but all
other faculties said Stay. And that's what he did.
"Are you OK?" he questioned, kneeling beside her.
"Don't worry about me, GO, they're getting away!!" she exclaimed.
He took notice of her badly torn stockings and skinned knee.
"You're hurt" he said softly.
"I'm fine! It doesn't matter! What the Hell is wrong with you?" she said in a huff.
Johnny raised himself to a standing position, looking down upon the fallen beauty.
In all of her powerful glory, the all-business "Detective" who always got her man,
lay jarred and angry in the road. The abraded knee, the hair now in her face and
the broken high heel just feet away painted an entirely different picture of who this
lady really was. In the bar, she was Detective Delicato. But here, in this mess on the
street, she was Delia. Not an imposing figure to be reckoned with but a sweet gentle
girl, who for a brief few moments stepped down from her pedestal to join the rest of
us sorry souls in our Everdayhood. She didn't know it, but Johnny saw it all. And that's
when he knew this case was going to be more than he bargained for.
"Please" as he reached down to take her hand.
"I can get up myself!" Delicato barked.
Dusting herself off, she managed to pull herself together just a tad and walked over
to retrieve her lost heel.
"I can't believe you let him get away! This could've been open & shut, TONIGHT, but no
YOU had to stop!" she railed.
As she turned to walk away, Johnny stood staring.
"It wasn't our guy" he said calmly.
Delicato turned sharply to face him.
"And how exactly do you know that?" she puzzled with fury.
He broke a faint smile before answering.
"Because the guy who got away was a local drunk and petty B & E artist. Mitchell Mahoney" he said.
"Must've run him in two dozen times in the last six months. So it wasn't our guy." he continued.
Delicato stood in the dimly lit side street finding her thoughts. Anger melting into embarrassment.
"Well that only means that Chester is STILL out there!" said the Detective.
Johnny walked towards her smiling.
"So I guess that means we've still got work to do" he said coyly.
They walked side by side up the middle of the empty street in silence.
