Around an hour after dusk, the radio rang a disturbance rang in by the bible thumping freak of a woman next door to the Miss Robichauxâs Academy, who called in at least three or four times a week. The school fell in his district so he took the call, running solo as usual. After his last stint his sergeant gave him patrol in the least eventful neck of the woods to spend nights alone in the cruiser, since apparently sober Braxton had a hard time âgetting along with othersâ. Jokes on sergeant, Braxton had a pocket flask he would sip on all night listening to his favorite jams and smoking spliffs.
Driving past the academy it seemed pretty calm, as usual. The woman often blew things out of proportion, claiming screaming like âblood curdling screamsâ from the home at least three times a month, or have âsatanic activityâ. All nonsense really, they just were always required to at least drive by. It had grown into a huge joke within the station, when Braxton was able to comfortably hang around with the other officers. Biting the inside of his cheek, Braxton pulled his cruiser along the curb around the corner from the school, reclining his seat back. He couldnât figure out how long we would be iced out, not that he really minded. Had he really fucked up that bad that he had to be forced out on the edge of the department?
Admittedly, Braxton had gotten his hands dirty a few times, maybe made friends with the wrong kind of people or turned a blind eye at the wrong times - but nothing at the proportions that others had accused him of. As he pondered this, he broke down a fresh green nugget of delicious thc, mixing it with tobacco. If he was going to be treated like the bad cop, maybe he should live up to the punishment. His phone played the music over the speakers of his Mustang Charger, he remembered when these cruisers came out - the city was so pissed at the âwasted tax dollarsâ, the notion made him laugh. New Orleans was always a city where the law got their hands dirty and the working class suffered, european influence at itâs best.
He sparked the spliff, laying back looking out his window as he smoked the spliff down. The academy always had itâs intrigue about it, itâs exclusivity notorious among locals. The sizes of classes had yo-yoâd over the course of several decades, only allowing women into recent times according to the grape vine. He would drive past the school often and see gorgeous women of all sorts and ages, he even once caught a glimpse of that movie star Madison something or other. It would be a lie if he said he hadnât considered visiting the school under the guise of a call about a disturbance, just to get a glimpse inside.
Braxton straightened himself up, rolling down his windows and stepping outside of his cruiser to let it air out. If this was punishment, he shouldâve taken the cruiser through bourbon street drunk a long time ago. A loud crack cut the silence of neighborhood, placing his hand on his gun, Braxton remained poised and alert. When nothing followed, he took a few paces down the block toward the school, squinting past the trees. He could see the faint outline of smoke against the indigo smoke, curling up and out. He raced back to his cruiser, grabbing his radio. âDiane, this is cruiser 248 please send the fire department to my location immediately. On a follow up to a call about a disturbance on the premises I heard a loud crack, then seeing smoke rising from behind the house. I could do with a couple more bodies too, while youâre at it.â
He threw the radio at the seat beside him, regretting the spliff he had just gunned down. Timing wasnât ever in his favor, but he suppose the odds of him being inebriated in a time of crisis was more likely than otherwise. Cursing to himself, he pulled the cruiser around to the front of the building, standing at the gate and able to see the flames rise higher and higher. He knew he should run to the front door to try to alert someone or check it out himself, but he was unable to pass the gate into the premises. He couldnât even force himself to lift his foot to walk in, it wasnât fear but it was some strange thing within him that defied all reason and willed him to stand there, gun in hand and staring forward, waiting.