The Big Guy Chapter 17

The Big Guy
Chapter 17

We’d told our guests to come around 4:00 for dinner at 6:30, so, of course, Daryl and Jasmine came at 4:15, Dan and Marie a few minutes later, and Lucy’s parents last at almost 4:45. I wondered silently how they’d feel if we made our announcement before they arrived. Jonathan was suitably embarrassed when they arrived. “I am so sorry, Lucille. Your mother was moving like mud going uphill.”

“Now, Jonathan,” she replied. “You know that isn’t true. My dress had a stain, and I had to change almost everything. I’m sorry we’re so late, Lucille…Matt.” I hugged her and told her it was no big deal. Then she continued with a wry smile on her face. “Is there some special reason why we’re all here?”

I couldn’t resist. “There’s no fooling you, Marylou. There is. I heard from my advisor at UNC, and with a few minor adjustments, my master’s thesis will be complete. It’s the final step for my degree in Criminology.” I looked at Lucy and could see she barely held back the giggles.

Then Jasmine said, “I thought we were celebrating my appointment to the City Council.”

“Not to mention,” Daryl said, “Jasmine and I are officially engaged.” Everyone agreed that was an excellent reason to celebrate, so there were hugs, kisses, and hearty handshakes as I stepped behind the bar to make a few drinks. Nobody said a word when Lucy and I opted for ginger ale.

“Aren’t you having a celebration drink, Lucille,” her mother asked.

“I can’t, Mother. I’m pregnant.” That announcement was met by stony silence for a few seconds while it sank in, and then there was as much commotion as six people could make. Jonathan jumped for joy as Marylou, Marie, and Jasmine hugged Lucy, doing that jumping thing that women seem to enjoy. Finally, Ingrid appeared with trays of cold-boiled shrimp and assorted canapés that featured several kinds of cheese, bacon, and caviar. I was sorely tempted to try them all, but instead, I opted to kiss my bride.

Finally, Daryl walked up to hug me. “Nice going, bro; you are one lucky man.”

“And you’re not? You got yourself a fine woman in Jasmine. I wish you all the luck in the world.”

“I think I’ve had my share. I have you as my best friend. I have a dream job in a beautiful community, and I have the love of an incredible woman.
All I need are a couple of kids and a dog, and I’ll be all set.”

“The dog I can help you with. The kids are your problem.” We shared a laugh at that as Lucy and Jasmine joined us. They must have been conspiring because they reached up to kiss us at the very same instant.

Just then, my mother-in-law hugged me for at least the fourth time. “Thank you daily for what you do for our town, Matt. Now I have an even better reason. I’ve always wanted to be a grandmother with two grandkids to spoil rotten.”

I knew she was kidding me, so I played along. “I told Lucy that I wanted a dozen, at least.” Marylou laughed as Lucy elbowed me in the ribs. I grunted in mock pain but leaned down to reassure Max that it was all fun.

We had a great time, and I did credit Daryl for coming up with the menu. My on-the-bone slice of prime rib was an inch thick yet so tender that I rarely had to use my knife to cut it. Whatever Lucy was paying Ingrid, it wasn’t anywhere near enough. She was an outstanding cook. There was excitement in our conversation, augmented by plenty of wine for Jonathan and three of the four wives. Lucy was pregnant, and Daryl, Dan, and I were on call whenever we were not officially on duty. That’s the reality of small-town police departments, so only Coke or ginger ale for us.

Eventually, Jonathan asked about Monday’s Council meeting. “It went extremely well, Daddy,” my bride answered. “Asshole Carl Haynes was suspended, as were the two police officers. Jeremy Haynes’ resignation was accepted. Jasmine was appointed to fill Carl’s term, and she’ll be with us for at least a year until Election Day. Matt gave us his budget requests for next year and his plans for the two city rec centers/police substations. I mentioned your generous offer of support. It turns out that two large parcels of land would be ideal for the centers. All we’d need is thirty acres for each.”

“Thirty acres? What the hell are you planning to put up there?”

“Besides the building, we were thinking of several outside basketball courts, and Mr. Ferguson suggested at least one field each for football, soccer, and baseball. You know we need these facilities.”

Jonathan just shook his head and then broke out laughing. “A warning, Matt: never underestimate my daughter, Lucille. Okay, have someone from the Planning Board contact Morton Stafford, and I’ll make it happen. Can I consider that my contribution to the project?”

“I think so, Daddy. Mr. Ferguson suggested prefab buildings that he thinks will cost us about $280,000 each, so we should have enough to clear and grade the land. There are no wetlands or endangered species there unless the possum or the grey squirrel suddenly go on the list, so I think we’ll be good to build once we get the permits.”

“Don’t do anything until you have the money.”

“Daddy! I’m not a child, you know! I’ve been on the City Council for six years, and don’t forget that forty-five percent of that land is mine.”

“Here’s another warning, Matt,” Jonathan said while laughing. “Don’t ever let your daughter get an MBA. She’s been running me ragged for years.” Then he laughed some more, and all of us joined him. I leaned to my left to kiss my wife’s cheek, but she turned her head, bringing her sweet lips to mine.

The party moved into the library once dinner was done. It was a relatively small, cozy room compared to the rest of the house, at only four hundred square feet, with a large sectional in one corner and three upholstered armchairs around a long rectangular table with a granite top. Part of the sectional faced a large stone fireplace with partially filled bookcases on the other three walls. Also, here are photos of Lucy and her family. A large one from our wedding was prominently placed on the mantle. It was my third favorite room in the house after our bedroom (DUH!) and the kitchen. Our guests had taken the sectional, so Lucy pulled me into one of the chairs before settling into my lap with Max sprawled on the floor at our feet. My in-laws and the two wives had drinks or wine while the rest continued our celebration with soft drinks.

Of course, there was a spirited conversation about Lucy’s pregnancy, but there was also much about the city and how it had changed over the years.
Everyone agreed that my becoming Chief had had a positive impact on the community. I thanked everyone for their opinion but commented that any experienced law enforcement officer could have done the same after Wilson’s lack of leadership.

“Maybe, Matt,” Jonathan replied, “but what’s important is that you did what was needed, and all of us in town know it. You’ve also initiated efforts to integrate the force, which is only about seventy years overdue. I may own most of the town, but I haven’t been actively involved in its government for decades. I’ve found that, for the most part, it’s better that way.” I didn’t say anything, but I knew exactly what he meant.

The party broke up around ten, and I picked Lucy up once Max had been put out, carrying her to bed. She laughed, and Max woofed lowly as he capered up the stairs. Skipping the shower, I placed Lucy gently onto the bed. We removed our clothes and then fell onto the excellent sheet.

Neither of us needed much encouragement. I was hard, and she was thoroughly wet. My thick organ slid slowly into her tight opening until she pulled me into her womanly core. “Dear God, Matt, you’ve made a difference in my life over the past few months. You made me a wanton woman.
All I want to do is make the most delicious—intense—love with you all day.”

“I’m glad, but I don’t think you’re wanton. If you were, you’d want every cock in town, and I know that’s not true.”

“No—my darling…my love—all I want is you and only you. I can’t believe I’m going to be a mother. It’s what I’ve wanted for years. I’m so happy.”

“I’m glad. Making you happy is my number one goal in life.” Then I looked into Lucy’s eyes and saw it was time to be quiet and make love. Silently, I drove into her forcefully enough to drive her crazy with lust. She began to squirm uncontrollably as she gradually lost control of her movements, her pussy rather than her brain running her body. I was mid-thrust when she came hard in what I hoped would only be her first time.
Fortunately, my strength and weight held her in place until she was able to return my thrusts. Twice more, she came—the final just a whisper—as she whispered to me, “Please, Matt—you’re going to kill me if you don’t cum soon.”

That was all I needed to hear. I exploded as though someone had pulled my trigger, my cock erupting five times before my thrusts began to pump semen from her vault. I knew then that the bed would need changing before we drifted off to sleep. I leaned down to kiss Lucy, realizing she had passed out, so I pulled out and walked quickly to the bathroom, returning with a large bath sheet. I placed it on the floor near Max’s bed and carefully placed Lucy on top. Max tilted his head as if to ask what was happening, but he never moved as I covered my love, then stripped the bed and remade it. After placing her carefully, I joined her, chuckling as she snuggled closely onto my body. I kissed her head gently, then joined her in the soundest sleep.

The next six weeks were calm and as relaxed as police work could be. Almost all of our current officers had met the performance standards I’d set, even the marksmanship. Those who hadn’t had decided to retire. They were all older men with twenty or more years of service. Then, on a Monday morning, Paul McCormick phoned. “Matt, how’d you like to see how your students are doing in the Academy?”

“Why don’t you just tell me? That way, I’ll save at least half a day, and you won’t have to buy me lunch.”

“You always were funny. How’s the wife?”

“She’s about two months pregnant, and we’re thrilled about it. Thanks for asking. What’s the real reason for your call, Paul? You must have something better to do with your time.”

“Okay, you’re right—I do have another motive. Have you considered joining the National Association of Chiefs of Police? Wilson was a member.”

“That’s hardly much of a recommendation considering he’s likely to spend ten or more years in prison.”

“Okay, that was a bad example. There are lots of us who participate. I’m on the program committee for our next annual conference, and the committee asked me to talk to you about that big drug bust you led. They’d like you to be our keynote speaker, and before you say no, the conference will be in Vegas. You can leave the wife at home and have a ball with the boys.”

“If I decide to go, I’ll take the wife if she can travel. As for having a blast with the boys, I’ve never found that appealing—not even in the Navy, but I will meet with you to discuss it after I first talk about it with Lucy.”

“Fair enough; how’s next Tuesday for you? Say around ten at the Academy headquarters?” I agreed and returned to work. I had finished my budget meetings with the City Council, and they had given me almost everything I had requested. They did balk at buying a new Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle with a Leupold M4 scope at just over $9,600 state bid price. I had asked what would have happened at George’s Menswear if I hadn’t been available. My rifle and scope in my gun safe wouldn’t have helped.

“We don’t have many cases like that, Matt,” one of the Councilmen said. “That’s the only one I can even remember.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Don, but times change. We may have taken down a big drug ring, but they will be replaced within six months, and even if they’re not, drugs are still available in any big city. All we need is one drug-crazed loony with a gun, and we could have a big problem. How many lives are we willing to gamble with? You can’t build a house without a hammer, you know.”

He laughed. “I am a carpenter by trade, as you know.” I did know that, but my arguments went nowhere, so I retreated diplomatically. Of course, I knew I wouldn’t get everything I wanted. Lucy was sympathetic on the drive home, telling me she had tried her best, but there were limits to how much she could do. She wanted to make it up to me in the shower and later in bed, and she did an outstanding job, but I was always worried about public safety. That’s a police officer’s job.

Paul met me outside the Memphis Police Academy entrance with a firm handshake and a hug. We walked with Max into the building and out the back door to a small grandstand where we watched candidates take turns at what I always called the “shooting gallery,” in which figures appear suddenly in doorways and windows. Based on instant recognition, the cadet has to decide whether to shoot.

We watched six cadets go through the course, all making mistakes. Of course, the track changed every time, so each cadet had to be on their toes. I was pleased that Aimee Johnstone, Pastor Michaels’ niece, did very well on what Paul told me was her first experience. We retired then to the cafeteria for lunch, but only after I accused Paul of being a cheap bastard.

After lunch, we walked with the forty-eight cadets to the firing range where Paul had set up four fruits on a sawhorse at what he claimed was fifty yards. “You might think it’s impossible to hit these at fifty yards, but I’ve seen Chief Cahill do it dozens of times when we were U.S. Marshals together.”

I turned to face the potential officers. “I tell our officers that shooting is nothing more than practice and concentration. Of course, you must practice the right techniques, or you’ll fail repeatedly with no chance of improvement. You also need to know that the bullet will start to fall as soon as it’s out of the muzzle. How far it falls will depend on the target's distance and muzzle velocity.” Holding my pistol up, I explained, “This is a .44 Magnum—a Colt Python, what many shooters consider to be the best handgun ever made. It should be for what it cost me. It is not a pistol for everyone because it’s cumbersome and kicks like a mule, as you will soon see.” I loaded the cylinder and then laughed.

“My friend Chief McCormick is cheating here because I usually do this at fifty yards, and I can see that the targets here are at least seventy-five, but that’s okay. I need to make a slight adjustment. At fifty yards, the bullet from this gun will fall about an inch and a half. At seventy-five, it will be almost double because it’s a matter of acceleration, not steady speed.” I closed the cylinder and repeated, “Practice and concentration. Arms straight but relaxed. The red dot on the front is exactly at the bottom of the ‘V’ at the rear and aimed above the center of the fruit. Pull the trigger gently while exhaling, like this.” I fired, and the cantaloupe disintegrated. I followed in short order with the apple and the plum before asking Paul what the final fruit was.

“That’s a cherry tomato from my garden,” he said, laughing. I had holstered my weapon before speaking to him, so I drew quickly, and raised my gun, and pulled the hammer back to the fully cocked position. I had only aimed for a second when I pulled the trigger, and the fruit disappeared in a puff of red smoke.

“The trick here is to find a point beyond the target you can aim at. I did that when I was aiming at the apple and plum. Then, it was just a matter of finding the same spot again, relaxing, and firing.

“I hope you never have to fire your weapon, but you need to know that you can if necessary and have confidence that you’ll hit your target. Most of the time, your target will be fifty feet or less away, and you’ll hear your instructors tell you to aim at the body mass. That’s excellent advice. Aiming for the torso is your best bet. You’ll also be told to shoot at least three times. If someone is out there trying to kill you or some innocent person, forget all the bullshit about disarming or just wounding him. The only real choice is to kill the bastard before he kills you or some hostage.”


To be continued