Part V: 2012

The ending of the first book of Imperfect Perfection

Part V: 2012

Samson

Hey, it's me. So Greg took me to the VFW for a drink and introduced me to his friends. They were all in Vietnam, not in the same unit, but they all faced it. I looked around to see if I recognized anyone. I didn't, but noticed people around my age. Greg tells me about the people there. “Not everyone who comes here is here obviously, but everyone has their own spot. Over there are the Desert Storm vets, the three over there are the last World War II vet and the last two Korean vets. It’s sad, really. Over there is you guys, they’re Army and Navy. The branches tend to stick together at first, so they might be dicks about it. Besides, I want to introduce you to my buddies. This is John, Mark, and Bart.” He gestures to the group of older men who just grunt and nod at me. “Sorry, they’re sloshed. They’ll talk to you when we get here first thing tomorrow, then we can all drink and talk.” After we left the bar the next day, I passed out when I got home cause I drank too much trying to keep up with Greg and his buddies. I woke up somewhere around 6 and decided to go for a walk. During my walk, I see a homeless guy holding a ‘homeless veteran’ sign, and so I decided to talk to him.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask him.
“Huh? Are you- are you talking to me?” he asks.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Are- are you real?”
“Yeah...are you ok?”
“Wanna huff?” He offers me a brown paper bag with his hand keeping it closed.
“Yeah, no thanks. Here, put that down.” I walk over and sit down next to him and push his arm back. “What’s your name?”
“Name’s Scott.”
“Scott, I’m Samson. What war were you in, or is this just a sympathy ruse? You look around my age, so something bad must have happened for you to end up here.”
“I was in Iraq, but I wasn’’t even around that long. I was dishonorably discharged over a racist joke to a superior officer that I heard from one of my squad mates, name of Jon.”
“You were in my unit?”
“Maybe, I don’t remember you.”
“Maybe you were before my time, but then again, I didn’t know everyone in the unit. So what happened?”
“Because I got dishonorably discharged, I lost my benefits. Wife wasn’t too happy that I wasn’t gone long. That struck me as odd, considering you’d think a wife would be happy her marine husband is home instead of potentially dying out there. Then, I come to find out it’s because she’s having an affair behind my back while I was deployed, and then she divorced me and left me for him. I fell into a depression so deep that I drank all my money away. Eventually, I ended up here.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Tell you what, how about you room with me for a little while, you can look for a job, have a roof over your head, food, and you can come to therapy with me.”
“Why would you do something like that for me? We literally just met.”
“I’ve done so much bad in my life, that I need to make up for it. I accidentally got my unit killed, and that’s just the most recent example of why I need to do this.”
“So, it’s just to help you feel better?”
“I guess you could say that, but it’s a win-win. You got screwed over by life, and this is opportunity knocking.”
“Alright, I usually don’t like taking help from people, but I’m literally at the bottom. Thank you, Samson.”
“You’re welcome, get in the car.” We get in my car, and I put a tarp from the trunk on the passenger’s seat. “Don’t take it personally, the seats are white.”
“I understand.”
“So, here’s the deal. I come from a wealthy family, let’s go visit my dad, I’m uh, gonna ask him for money. I don’t have the amount needed for me to help you the way I want to.”
“I don’t feel comfortable taking a stranger’s money like this, I don’t know your dad.”
“Trust me, you’ll recognize him, haven’t you ever wanted to meet a celebrity?”
“what are you talking about?” We drive to the upper part of the city, and I get us to my dad’s house. “Nice place.”
“You know the band Kronyx State?”
“Yeah, they’ve got some good songs.”
“My dad is The Mutated Rivethead.”
“The lead singer/guitarist?”
“Yeah.”
“You must be loaded!”
“Not as loaded as we were in the 90’s. Plus, my mom took half in the divorce.”
“Still, pretty fancy.” I stop at the front door and park.
“Before we continue, do you want this?”
“What would I be getting?”
“A wardrobe and personal sundries. I’ll try to ask for a little pocket money for you for anything else you might need. Like, maybe for lunch at your new job?”
“Even if you don’t get anything, just the honor of meeting him and how grateful I am that you’d be willing to do this for me gives me hope that there’s still good people in the world, and not all the 1% are selfish.”
“Honestly? Before the war, I wouldn’t have even considered this, so don’t count your chickens.”
“Let’s go.”
“Alright.” I ring the doorbell, and Bimbleton, the butler answers the door.
“Ah, Master Samson, pleasure to see a fellow war hero.” he says in his British accent.
“I’m not a hero. Is dad home?”
“Yes sir, he’s in his study. Might I ask who your visitor is?”
“This is Scott, he’s also a fellow vet, just really down on his luck.”
“How admirable of you, sir. My, how war has changed you.”
“It changes all of us, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed it does, sir.”
“I hope you have many more years ahead of you, Bimbleton.”
“Sir, I’m 87.”
“You don’t look a day over 90, Bimbleton.” We follow him into the house and to my dad’s study. He knocks on the door.
“Sir, Master Samson and guest are here.” The door opens, and my dad looks at us.
“Come on in.” He says. Me and Scott walk in. “So what’s up, need some more money?”
“Kinda. But not for me.”
“I guessed as much, seeing as you brought a bum into my house.”
“I’m honored, TMR.” Scott says, bowing.
“Chill, man.” I say to Scott. This bum is actually a former marine from my old unit, all I’m asking for is to get him a wardrobe, some essentials, and possibly some pocket money.”
“This is the first unselfish thing I’ve ever seen you do.” dad says.
“Truth be told, I wanna repair all the damage I’ve done.”
“I hoped the experience would have an effect on you, but this is beyond my expectations. Is two grand enough?”
“It’s more than I was expecting, we’ll take it.”
“Here you go.” He gives me the money and I pocket it. “Good luck, Scott, I hope I’m making a good investment.”
“Thank you, sir! Is there any chance the band will ever return?”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the reporters: no.”
“Oh, sorry for asking, but Power Serge is one of my top favorite albums of all time, that solo you did on ‘Crispy, Fried, and Burnt’ gives me goosebumps.”
“Thanks, kid, and good luck.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“All right, a*s kiss, let’s go.” I say as we turn around and leave. “Later, dad. Thanks again.”
“Later, Samson.” dad calls back. We get back in my car, and head towards my house.
“I caught him while he was baked, that’s why it was so easy.” I tell him.
“Thanks again, Samson. That was so surreal.”
“No problem. So, here’s the deal. You can use my water, you can eat my food. You can use my electricity. I want you to focus on getting a job. When you get said job, you’re going to save your money so you can find a place on your own. Please don’t take advantage of my kindness, or you will find yourself back on the street. Do you understand me?”
“Wow, all serious all of a sudden?”
“I’m serious, I’ve never been this nice before, and I don’t take kindly to being taken advantage of. I can be quite the heartless dick, but I’m trying to change that. So please, don’t make me regret this.”
“Second chances don’t come every day, I promise I won’t.”
“You’d better not.” We get to my house and go in. “Alright, take a shower, fourth door on the left. I’ll try to find some clothes I can spare for you, they might be a little baggy on you, and you’ll have to freeball, I ain’t letting you use my underwear.” He goes into the bathroom and I look through my clothes to see what I don’t mind getting rid of. I pick a shirt and pants I haven’t worn in years, I won’t miss them. I never wear blue socks, why do I have blue socks? He can have those too. Now shoes might be a problem, mine are way too big. Eventually, he comes out of the shower, and he looked so much better.
“Thanks for the shower, man. I haven’t had one that good in a long time!”
“So, I don’t have a pair of shoes for you to wear.”
“I still have mine.”
“Yeah, but you’re clean... you know what? That will be our first stop.” I took him to the mall, and I gotta say, I spent way less than I thought we would. I’m so used to buying designer clothes, that I forgot poor people have cheaper tastes. We get back to the house, and I give him five hundred dollars. “Make it last. Tomorrow, you go job hunting.”
“I seriously don’t know how to thank you enough man, you’ve done so much for me!”
“You can thank me by getting a job and getting your own place.”
“Yeah, I guess so, that’s the goal, right?”
“Well, I’m heading to bed. There’s a bed in that room there.” I point. “That can be your room.”
“Good night, Sarge.”
“Don’t call me that, just call me roomie.” It took a few days, but eventually, Scott found himself working in some kind of office building as a janitor. Maybe I made the right choice in trying to do the right thing, I never thought it could feel this good. He’s actually a pretty cool dude. We got to talking, and we have similar music tastes, and even some of the same shows. Despite being a former bum, he’s actually pretty clean. Good, I don’t like conflict in my own house, I’m not an ‘Odd Roommates’ kind of guy.
Then, one night, I’m having this wonderful dream. It was about Christy, a girl I went to high school with and dated for awhile. In the dream, she had just came back from Paris from her modeling tour. She told me she missed me and wanted to see me again, and just as we’re about to kiss, I get woken up to the sound of hysterical screaming and a loud bang. I quickly hopped out of bed, my bedroom, and into the hallway. I step in a wet spot and turn on the light. And there was Scott, dead on the floor with my service rifle in his hand. I forgot it was on the shelf in the hallway, it didn’t occur to me that he’d use it. I call my brother and wash my foot off in the tub.
My brother and his partner showed up at my house. His partner looked like he’d been drinking, but I’m not surprised, it’s 10:30 at night. A uniformed officer was with them to take my statement and I don’t know why, I barely knew the guy, but I cried like a pansy. He told me he sometimes has flashback nightmares about the war. I thought he was kidding when he said that, but he said his first night deployed, they were immediately hit. I meant to take the gun and put it in my room and I forgot.
“I am sorry this happened Samson, but do not let this discourage you from continuing to do good deeds, it is admirable.” Luxor says.
“Thanks, bro. It figures I try to help someone get their life together, and they blow their brains out.”
“It was beyond your control.”
“Not if I had put the gun away like I meant to.”
“if it wasn’t that, it could have been something else. You really do not know this guy. You tried to help him, but it just did not go the way you expected.”
“He was doing so good, too. He-”
“Well.”
“Huh?”
“He was doing well, not good. Please continue.”
“A*s. Anyway, he’d found a job and was finally getting his life together. Now I’m wondering if he’d have been better off on the street.”
“Then he would have died in the street instead of a warm house with food in his stomach with a fellow vet who understood and cared about his cause and used his wealth to help better his life.”
“And help him get a bullet in his brain.”
“Yes, that is quite unfortunate. You should probably keep your gun locked away in a place only you can access to avoid future mishaps.”
“Gee, thanks a lot, genius.”
“Any time.” Dick. He’s lucky he’s my brother. Well, I guess this is another lesson I have to learn. Boy, life is full of all sorts of surprises, huh? The next day, I donated Scott’s clothes at a nearby shelter and gave dad his change back.
“Sorry it didn’t work out, son.” He tells me.
“I tried to fix a mistake, and caused a bigger one.”
“At least you tried to do the right thing, I commend you for that.”
“Just stop, dad, alright? I fucked up, I f**k up, it’s what I do, I’m a f**k up.”
“Look, just have a few drinks with your war buddies, ok? Maybe you’ll get another chance in the future, just don’t give up trying to be a good person. I never thought you could be, but you’ve definitely surprised me. And hey, if it helps alleviate your guilt, that’s just a bonus.”
“Whatever.” I say as I leave dad’s house. I get in my car, and head for the VFW. I’ll drink, but I don’t feel like talking.

Luxor

This was one case I did not think I would ever catch, it is not every day a local celebrity dies. Everybody knew his name, he was Bob Johnson, the hot tub king. His body washed up on the shore, some tourists found him.
“Who woulda known The Hot Tub King himself would end up dead so young?” Jones asks me.
“Not even I expected this, I agree. Fifty five is still relatively old.” I respond.
“F**k you, I’ll be sixty four soon.”
“My apologies.”
“What do you think it was?”
“Well first we have to find out if it is homicide or suicide.”
“Guess we’ll find out during the autopsy.”
“I concur.” We clear the body to be taken, and take a ride to talk to the wife. I knock on the door and she answers.
“Did you find him? Is he ok?” she asks through wet makeup stained eyes.
“Mrs-”
“Jen.” she interrupts.
“Jennifer, your husband was found on the shore. He was dead upon our arrival.” She breaks down and starts crying. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
“That damn w***e of his, Ella Simmons. She was pissed because he was going to leave her because I threatened to divorce him if he didn’t.”
“Love triangle?”
“Look, it’s not like I was happy about it, but I like nice things.”
“So, you were just married for money?”
“Not like I let him cheat, I just didn’t know when it was happening.”
“How did you come to find out about the affair?”
“Dumb b***h basically told me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, I walk in the store to look for my piece of s**t husband. You know this wasn’t even his first one? He’s been doing this for years. Anyway, I walk up to this new girl who’s dressed way too nice to be working there and compliment her look because up until that point, I loved it. So I said, ‘you look very nice, darling’, and she says, ‘thanks, my boss pays me really well here’, with this fake, s**t eating grin on her face. Then I knew immediately, he was screwing her too. So I said, ‘Do you know where my husband is?’ and her eyes widened and her face looked scared, confirming what I suspected. That’s how I caught most of the others too, they’re so dumb.” she chuckles. “She told me he was in the office, so I went over to his office, but he was with a client. So I wait, he finishes, they leave. I tell him this is the last straw and if he doesn’t stop, I was divorcing him.”
“Pardon me, but how would divorcing him be detrimental to him?”
“Because I get half and alimony, and he doesn’t know how take care of himself, I did like, everything for him.”
“Everything?”
“He doesn't know how to cook, clean, do laundry, the basics. He can’t even work the microwave. He’s had everything taken care of his whole life. First his mom, then his first wife, then me. That’s why I threatened to divorce him, he’d be lost without me.”
“How did he survive when his first wife left him?”
“Oh! Yeah, about that...”
“About what?”
“He was having an affair on his wife with me, and he looked so pathetic, all smelly and starving.”
“Starving?”
“Yeah, he was forty, and was told he couldn’t eat fast food, so his diet was homemade food, and even then he had a special diet.”
“I see, cholesterol?”
“Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to eat the bad stuff anymore. He took it seriously at first but I know he snuck it once in a while.”
“Ok, thank you, you have been very helpful Mrs.-”
“-please, just call me Jen.”
“Okay, Jennifer, we will be in contact if we get any leads.”
“Thank you, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tell the children.”
“We are sorry for your loss, he was well liked in this community.”
“That's cause you didn't know the real him.” She shuts the door.
“What do you think?” I ask Jones.
“She’s full of s**t.” He tells me.
“You think so?” I ask, puzzled. She seemed awfully distraught.
“She’s playin’ ya.”
“How do you know?”
“The eye makeup, it looked wet but was dry. A normal person woulda wiped it off when they were done crying. She was goin’ for sympathy.”
“Well, let us make sure and talk to the mistress.”
“Aight, let’s roll.” We head on down to King Bob’s Hot Tubs and walk up to the nicest dressed looking woman.
“Hello, Ella Simmons?” I ask as I flash my badge.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asks.
“Yes, we would like to talk to you about your boss. She gasps,
“Have they found him?”
”Yes, he was found on the shore, dead.
“Oh my God.” She collapses and begins crying.
”Now, that's real.” Jones says.
“Interesting.” I comment.
“How did he die?” she asks.
“We are still looking into it. So, you had an intimate relationship with your boss?” I ask.
“N-no, he was just my boss.”
“That is not what his wife said.”
“I swear, I’m not a bad person, I was doing it for my kids. My husband died in Iraq, and we were left with barely anything afterwards and I didn’t make enough so I got a second job.”
“Where you met the deceased...”
“Getting this job was super easy, I figured it out that day what he wanted from me and I knew I’d have to do what it took to make sure my boys are well taken care of, even if it meant sleeping with my creepy old rich boss.”
“My goodness.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m going to do now that he’s dead, this gig only works if he’s alive.”
“What was the case in the event of his death?”
“I don’t know, we never discussed it, I just assumed it went to his wife and kids.”
“So you would not benefit in any way?”
“You think I did it?”
“It is still a possibility.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet, but do not leave town.”
“Fine.”
“Good day.” We leave the store. “What do you think?” I ask Jones.
“Honestly? Could be either of them.”
“I have to admit, it is a bit perplexing. I do not want to put the wrong woman in jail.”
“So it’s definitely one of them?”
“Oh yes, definitely. See if we can discover the contents of his will, that may give us a clue towards motive.”
“We’d have to ask the wife.”
“If I were her, I may not be willing to give us that information.”
“Exactly, which makes it the perfect test. If she’s innocent, it won’t be a problem. If she’s guilty, she’ll say no, possibly get defensive. Don’t press the issue, we’ll get a warrant.”
“What if after all that she is still innocent?”
“Then we apologize and explain we were just following protocol. Most people understand, a few will be dicks about it, but most people understand.”
“So, back to the wife. Do you think she may be the culprit? My logic based on the data suggests she is the culprit, but also, I feel confident in that assessment.”
“That’s your gut kid, some people call it a hunch.”
“So that is what that expression means.”
“Yeah, see, you’re still learning.”
“My hunch tells me the wife did it, and our answer will be in that will.”
“So you’re absolutely sure that the will has something to do with it?”
“Money is usually almost always the reason in these types of cases.”
“Not gonna argue with you there.”
“Well, here goes nothing.” We head back to the victim’s mansion and I knock on the door and Jennifer answers.
“Can I help you, officers?” she asks.
“Just a few more things we need to look into, can we please see his will?”
“Sure, follow me!” Not the reaction I had expected, the human mind is truly puzzling, perhaps it is a deception. We follow her into the house to what I can only assume was his study. She opens a filing cabinet and begins sifting through the papers. “Huh. Can’t seem to find it. Hold on, I’ll call our lawyer, maybe he has it.” She picks up the receiver of the telephone with one hand and dials with the other. “Hello? Yeah, it’s me. Yeah, do you have- what do you mean you were about to call me? Yeah, that’s actually why I was calling, the cops need to look at it too. Of course I’m ok with it, I finally get to see what Bob left me and the kids. Ugh, does this mean I have to see HER? Either. Ugh, both? Who else? Just wives and kids? Ugh, and her? Fine, whatever. When do you want us down there? Now? Fine, see you soon.” she hangs up. “I’m sure you got the gist of that, you can follow me. I have to pick up the kids from school on the way though.” We arrive at the lawyer’s office and Jennifer, her children, Ella and her children and who I can only is assume is Bob’s first family all gathered.
“Hello, and welcome to the reading of Bob’s will.” the lawyer begins. “Bob requested you all be here simultaneously so you could see where you all stood in his life. I apologize for what I’m about to read. ‘To Martha, f**k off. To Bob Jr., since you have my name, you get the store, check your bank account. To Jennifer, your jokes have been getting dark as of late, so I made this addendum that in the case you’re not joking, you get nothing. If I am in fact paranoid, then you have nothing to worry about, you and the kids will be fine. To Ella Simmons, if my wife is, in fact, a murderous b***h, you and your kids get my fortune. If not, you split it sixty-forty.”
“That's bullshit!” Jennifer yells.
“What are you complaining about? At least he left you something!” Martha responds.
“Because- because I have to share with his w***e!”
“Yeah? And the w***e he left me for gets more than half his fortune, I think I’m a little more pissed off than you.”
“Don’t worry mom, I’ll take care of you.” Bob jr. Says to Martha.
“Why thank you, but that’s not the point. The point is that even in death, your father can be an absolute dickhead.”
“I’m out of here, come on, kids.” Jennifer says as she leaves the building with her kids in tow. The other two families leave as well.
“Might I have this?” I ask the lawyer. He hands me the will.
“The autopsy will tell you how she killed him, you gonna wait for her to slip or can you do it once you find out?” he asks.
“We have to prove it was her first unless she slips. What makes you think she did it?” I ask.
“She’s had it out for him ever since she found out about Ella. I hung out with Bob, and whenever she was around, she’d make dark jokes about killing him, and telling him that accidents happen.”
“Interesting, would you testify to that?”
“Damn right I will.”
“Excellent, now to prove it was in fact, her.”
“Good luck, go get her. Bob was like a brother to me, we grew up together. Between you and me, he should have stayed with Martha, she didn’t let him get away with the bullshit Jennifer did, which is why she divorced Bob after the first time he raised his hand to her. Bob verbally abused Jennifer which is probably what made her snap and begin resisting too. I’ve never seen him hit her though. He was losing control again till he met this new piece, then he focused all his attention to her, and Jennifer noticed.”
“It has been a pleasure, thank you.” We leave and head back to the station. “This has been an interesting case, Jones.”
“You end up learning a bunch of s**t about people you never knew before. Like how Bob supported three families and some of us never got one.”
“I am sorry, Jones.”
“It’s whatever, let’s head to the lab, see if they’ve got our results.” We get back to the station and head to the medical examiner’s office.
“Do you have our results?” I inquire.
“Poison.” the doctor tells us.
“Poison?” Jones asks.
“In his soup, he was dead before he hit the water.”
“How long ago?” I inquire.
“No later than nine.”
“She called us at five this morning saying he never came home. Bob’s closes at eight on Sundays, by the time he gets home, it is already eight thirty.”
“...changes, gets a drink, I found beer in his stomach too. Eats dinner...”
“...laced with the poison, he’s dead by nine.” Jones finishes. Our radios crackle.
“Alpha, Jones. Upstairs immediately.” we hear. We rush upstairs to my boss’ office. “We just got a call, head to Ella Simmons’ apartment immediately, she’s being attacked by a crazy woman with a knife.” We rush immediately over there, and there we see Jennifer making holes in the wood of the door, which is splintering and nearly broken.
“You b***h, you can’t have it if you’re dead!” Jennifer is shouting.
“Put the knife down, and surrender, Jennifer!” Jones calls.
“No, it’s not fair! I was the one married to him, why should she get any of it?”
“It’s too late, you did it to yourself.”
“Come Jennifer, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband Robert Johnson and the attempted murder of Miss Ella Simmons.” I tell her as I put the cuffs on.
“It’s just not fair!” She cries, as I put her in the back of the cruiser.
“I actually felt a little challenged on this case.” I tell Jones.
“If I hadn’t helped you, would you have figured it out?”
“Most likely; however, I must admit I would have been puzzled had you not pointed out the empathy factor. Just something to add to my already elaborate algorithm.”
“Ah, but you also trusted your gut.”
“Yes, I was unprepared for that. While I was unsure, a feeling I had that had nothing to do with data and logic brought me to the same conclusion. Perhaps I should ‘trust my gut’ more often.”
“You should, but remember, it is not a fact, you’re human, your gut could be wrong.”
“Hm, so use ‘my gut’ at first, and then use data and logic to confirm or not confirm if my feeling is correct?”
“That’s the way to do it.”
“Hm, intriguing.” Every case I do teaches me more and more about the human mind in a way that cannot be learned on paper. It is scientifically fascinating to come across so many variables. I have also come to learn that similar circumstances do not necessarily have similar outcomes. This job has taught me so much about empathy, one thing I lack. To be able to express it is another challenge. I have been practicing when I have the spare time, although I am going to try practicing with a real person eventually. I have tried showing what I have learned with Stanley, but he does not want to. Perhaps I will try things again with Emily, surely a female can teach me empathy, they are naturally more sensitive than us males are. I just hope that she will be willing to help me. I doubt my brother Samson will be of any help. He lacks empathy as I do, however I think it may affect me more. War has changed him, perhaps he learned empathy while performing his service. Watching your comrades die on a semi regular basis must have some kind of effect. Unless it has hardened him more, which is also a possibility. I see now that the world is full of variables, everyone, and all their actions are variables, and have variables themselves. I do hope that I get to the point where I can do this job with one hundred percent perfection, with all variables accounted for. I can only surmise what the future holds for me and my brother. This is Luxor Alpha, signing off.















To Be Continued…