SENT BY @tea-rcses ( Mary Ethel )…
a police station on edge during a blizzard
There were three things that had Bronx chewing on his inner cheek anxiously as the cops rushed from side to side with grunts and stress plaguing their faces:
1. The cops themselves, of course. Bronx had had his plenty of runs with the law throughout his life and he was no stranger to the police station and even to most of the cops working there. “Hey, Steve!” “How’s the family, Mr. Shen?” “Did your daughter have that recital already, Karla?” Bronx had become familiar with most of the people there to the point where he would make ( or try to make ) friendly conversation to most with both positive and negative response. Still, there were the triple of bodies in the place for whatever reason and some of them were clearly not fond of the dancers stranded in there with them; which takes us to the second point…
2. Mary Ethel. Anchorage’s very own Mary Magdalene. They were pretty, too pretty, plastic pure, artistically driven ( which led many patrons into the club ) and also played at Cy’s band. Jesus, they were basically anything Bronx had ever wanted to be and more, although the sadness behind their eyes made him wonder if maybe he saw them with rose and green colored lenses sometimes. He could not hate her, not one bit, because she was also a victim of life, of the crudest decisions taken by generations before them. They’re painfully similar and yet, awfully different in their reactions. Bronx hugged himself tighter not knowing if he felt more threatened by their presence or a police station full of angry people.
3. The blizzard. The very reason of why they are trapped here in first place. Emergency services entered and left the building constantly as some people came in to report situations and crimes that had happened in the last minutes. Everything seemed way too important at this point to pay attention to a couple of sad souls at the corner that had been brought in by a cop for some unknown reason and had been long forgotten since; and yet, dirty looks were sent his way every time he stared at the exit for too long.
“Would rather be freezing my ass to death out there rather than spending any more time here”, he mumbled with crossed arms and a glare at the old secretary at the desk that kept looking their way over her spectacles with judging looks. “Oi, Virgin Mary”, he called for his companion, “should we try to reach the door once and for all and risk a possible arrest or wait here until someone actually tells us why we’re here?”.
