Seriously Bad

            Craig Winter glanced at the screen, holding a finger over the mute button. “Is this guy for real?”

            Suppressing a chuckle, Ryan Cross replied, “I think so. He thinks so, anyway.” He’s unable to hold in his laughter, and dissolves into a giggling mess.

            Craig sighed, then flicked the screen off. “Guess I’ll gather the men, make the arrest.” He turned a critical eye to his partner, “Get yourself together, would you?” Without another word, he left the room, leaving his partner wiping his eyes and gathering his senses.

            Meanwhile, the perpetrator of the crime the two officers had just witnessed was eating cold pizza on the floor of his mother’s basement. The dryer tumbled in the background, and the smell of softener covered the usual odor of mold. Buzz was fuming. How could he have gotten it so wrong again? All he wanted in life was to be taken seriously. A sauce covered hand clenched into a fist, and he waved it at the wall.

            “D****t!”
            “Cut out your swearing!” His mother called down the stairs.

            He grumbled something in reply that he would never dare to say to her face.

            “What did you say?”

            His mother’s hearing was uncanny. “Nothing Mother! Just talking to myself.”

            “Don’t forget to wash your underwear!”

            Buzz sighed and got to his feet, back aching and knees cracking from holding such an uncomfortable position so long. He tossed the pizza box in the corner and debated his next move. Overlooking the security camera had been an enormous mistake, one that very well could have compromised his identity. He needed to go into hiding. A scowl dashed across his face, hiding would considerably delay his next great crime. The one that would make him infamous, and make all those losers on the police force and that stupid backwoods newspaper swallow their words. “World’s Most Ridiculous Criminal…” He’d show them all. Yes, yes he would. Right after he washed his underwear.

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

            “Oh… my…. God. Stacy, come check out this video!” Dylan sat on the edge of his computer chair, soda in one hand and hair clutched in the other. “Brilliant!”

            Stacy came up behind him and rested a slender hand on the back of the chair. “What is it this time? Not another husky video.” She rolled her eyes.

            “No, just watch.” With a grin, he pressed play. Torn between his desire to watch the video again and to catch his sister’s reaction, his head twisted between the two of them.

            “Wow… Just wow. Is this guy serious?”

            Dylan was laughing too hard to respond.

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

            Buzz was just finishing up the laundry when he heard the roar of his mother’s laughter. He felt his ears turn pink, somehow he just knew that he was the butt of the joke. Taking the stairs two at a time, he bounded upward to defend his honor.

            He found his mother seated at his computer watching some sort of fuzzy black and white video. It looked like… no… his face turned pale. A security feed.

            Dashing up to her, he snatched at the mouse and scrolled through the page. A YouTube video with over three hundred thousand views, a YouTube video of him.

            “Shoo, I wasn’t finished watching that.” His mother pushed him from the screen.

            Horrified, Buzz backed away slowly. This couldn’t be happening. He was being immortalized as the world’s most idiotic criminal, not as the most devious as he’d always dreamt of. What a nightmare! But he’d show them. He dashed back down stairs to retrieve his pants. Ideas already percolated through his brilliant mind.

            A few hours later, he was cruising along the freeway in his mother’s gray Cadillac, hovering just above the speed limit to avoid standing out. Golden oldies bumped from the surprisingly good speakers. By the time he reached his destination, the tiny flashes of insight he’d started with had grown into the flames of a truly diabolical plan. This time would be different.

            Abandoning the car on a sparsely traveled back street, he walked the rest of the way, cutting through the woods, to the old flour mill he and his brother had played in as a child. It was the perfect hideaway, just far enough from civilization but not so far that he didn’t have access to Wi-Fi.

            The main house was boarded up and grown over with long grasses and vines. Yanking on a loose plank, he was able to slip inside. His small stature sometimes proved to be an asset… just not the other night. Pushing the thought away, he took stock of his surroundings. Thick layers of dust covered the floor. The paint peeled in great swathes from the walls, and the remaining glass window panes were broken and scattered across the floor. There was evidence of a sizable rodent population and a faint smell of kerosene.

            He’d brought a pack full of essential supplies, which he shrugged off his back and set in the center of the floor. Moving aside a box of animal crackers and a roll of toilet paper, he pulled his laptop from the pack. He couldn’t help checking the video again, just to see the number of views. Almost five hundred thousand! His stomach gave a sick lurch and he closed the tab. This next act would be guaranteed to gather just as many, if not more views, and this time he’d be recording the show on purpose.

 

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

 

            Craig rapped on the front door of 603 Miller Road, his partner Ryan standing just behind him. A handful of police cruisers parked in a semi-circle blocking the otherwise empty drive. A middle aged woman with a thin mustache and purple spectacles opened the door, letting out a waft of baking apple pie.

            “We have a warrant for the arrest of one Buster Aaron Woodberry, of this residence.” Craig said in his most authoritative voice.

            The woman sighed, placing her hands on her thin hips. “You mean Buzz? He isn’t home.”

            “May we come in?”

            “Suit yourself. Just take off your shoes.” She fixed the officer with a matronly iron glare, and he found himself very naturally complying with her request. Ryan followed suit, mumbling under his breath until he received a glare of his own.

            The pair searched the premises, ending up in the basement where Buster, or Buzz as his mother had called him, obviously resided.

            It smelled of fabric softener, mold, and cheese pizza. Craig’s stomach gave a turn. A dark and heavily stained futon was shoved into a corner, next to a fun sized television that had bunny ears sticking up from the top. Along the other end of the basement, an impressive array of electronics competed with the washer and dryer for space. Several monitors lit up with colorful snakes, a screensaver Craig had on his own home computer. He pointed them out and Ryan tagged them for evidence. They’d get a tech guy down here and see what they could pull for information. The guy was inadvertently harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that his actions were highly illegal.

            Another sweep of the house and the police were satisfied that their suspect was not here. Ryan had the pleasure of interviewing the mother, and the only useful bits of information he gleaned were that Buzz had stolen her car and a killer apple pie recipe.

            “Let the forensics team take over, let’s get out of here. We’ll get a trace on the plates and see if the perp’s vehicle has been spotted,” Craig said.

            Back at the station for only a few minutes and a call came in. The vehicle had indeed been spotted in a small town a few hours north of the city. Craig rounded up Ryan and a handful of backup and hopped in his cruiser. He hoped the guy would come peacefully, he’d turned into some sort of internet sensation and to take him out in a violent manner would result in a PR nightmare.

            The police pulled up to the silver Cadillac at a quarter past nine that night. Craig and Ryan got out of the vehicle, ready for trouble but not expecting to find the perp just taking a nap in the backseat. As expected, the vehicle was indeed empty. It didn’t take long, however, to discover a handful of footprints leading off into the woods.

            Flashlights beaming through the trees and skittering across the ground, Craig led his officers into the woods, following what appeared to be a nature trail. Broken branches and the occasional foot print led them to believe that they were on the right path. He’d left behind two officers to watch the car, and had requested that they keep in radio contact just in case the advancing party flushed the perp out and back to his getaway vehicle. The officers entertained themselves by watching Buzz’s YouTube video on their phones and trying not to pee themselves with laughter.

            The night was cool, and the stars twinkled like friendly fairies in the dark sky. Mosquitos buzzed around their heads and danced in the beams of light. Nocturnal animals prowled around the officers, who, as clumsy humans, were making quite the racket trundling through the woods. Before long, Craig reached a long grass field and signaled a halt. He instructed them to extinguish their lights. They’d go the rest of the way utilizing the natural illumination of the moon and stars.

            Roughly in the middle of the field looked to be a handful of agricultural buildings, long out of use, surrounding a modest farm house. Craig felt sure that this was where his perp was hiding, and almost felt a little guilty that they’d found him so easily. Keeping low and moving slow, the officers traversed the field, fanning out in a wide semi-circle formation and eventually surrounding the cluster of buildings. They hunkered down and awaited further instruction from Craig.

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

 

            Buzz was absorbed in his plans, tapping away at his keyboard and making mental calculations. Yes, this was perfect. He couldn’t help but feel excited, though he chided himself at the premature feeling. The plan wasn’t finished yet.

            A noise outside made him freeze. Was it an animal? Closing the laptop, he snuck over to a boarded window and peeked through a gap. The moon cast a silver glow over the landscape, but the ephemeral light failed to illuminate the blackness of the woods. A gentle breeze swayed the long grass. Fireflies played in the silky night air. Buzz could see no other evidence of movement, animal or otherwise. His imagination had got the better of him. Backing away, Buzz heard the noise again, this time he felt sure it was closer. Hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end, what if he’d been discovered? It was stupid, he thought, to leave the car so close. Why didn’t he think of these things? But there was no time to bemoan his shortsightedness, he needed to get out of here and quickly. He couldn’t risk staying, though he’d feel stupid in the morning if it turned out a badger had run him off.

            Gathering his things and slinging them onto his back, he pushed open the same board that had allowed him entry and slid onto the ground with hardly a sound. The smell of fresh air tickled his nose, and he suppressed a sneeze. Picking his head a bit off the ground, he surveyed the field but could see nothing out of the ordinary. No sound but the mosquito’s incessant hum. Far too quiet. His heart quickened and his palms felt greasy. Why did everything always go wrong?

            There! A movement caught his eye, interrupting his lamentations. It seemed too big to be an animal, and it was far too close. The woods would provide a safe haven, but it was likely that he was surrounded. He wouldn’t have easy access. Just surrender, a small voice whispered in the back of his head, it’s not worth it. He scowled. No way.

            Crawling on his arms and legs, trying not to disturb the long grass too much, he started to circle around the building. He’d make his way to the edge of the buildings then book it to the woods. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had at the moment.

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

            Craig had spotted movement near the front house. The perp was on the move. Silently signaling to the nearest officers, he picked up the pace a little. Hopefully he could still get the element of surprise. It was likely that the perp didn’t realize he’d been spotted.

            Even after ten years on the force, nights like this exhilarated Craig and reminding him of why he’d joined his brothers in arms on the force. Every muscle taught with expectation, every nerve on alert, every sense utilized. It didn’t matter who was on the other end, tonight they were his prey and he would make sure they faced justice.

            Ryan had seen the same flutter of motion his partner had, but was not sharing the same sense of exhilaration. In fact, he’d been bitten so many times by mosquitos he felt like one giant bug bite, he was starving, and urgently needed to pee. He hoped this would go down quickly, but if it didn’t he considered sneaking off to relieve himself in the woods.

            Although the line had sped up, they still had a considerable distance to cover. The movement they were following was painfully slow as well. Ryan’s bladder protested, and forced him to a halt. A thin layer of sweat formed on his upper lip. He glanced to his left and right. He’d dropped back out of formation, without realizing. Neither Craig nor the other officer, Ryan didn’t know his name, would notice if Ryan backed off now. He turned and crab scuttled to the woods as quickly as he could, unaware that Buzz had caught this peculiar motion and realized that he now had an opening.

 

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

 

            Back in Buzz’s basement, his mother was folding his laundry and humming the M*A*S*H theme song out of tune. The older officer had put her in a peculiar mood, she hadn’t realized that she could still be aroused and was busily trying to put her mind off it.

            As she was folding a pair of faded blue jeans, a slip of paper fluttered out and landed on the floor. With a grunt, she leaned down and snatched it up. Almost immediately her heart gave a jolt, and she rested her free hand upon it. It was as if she’d seen a ghost, and in a way she had. It was Eric, Buzz’s older brother, now seven years gone. Wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye, she tucked the picture into her own pocket. Buzz had worshiped Eric, it was really too bad what had happened between them. And then the accident… Buzz had never been the same.

            During the planning stage of one of Eric’s famous heists, he’d let Buzz take charge on a practice run. Buzz had gotten the exercise horribly wrong, and to make matters worse, had turned his brother into a laughing stock among his gathered team. Eric had never forgiven Buzz, and bitterly tormented him without mercy.

            That same heist was executed without the involvement of Buzz, and things went perfect. Later on that evening, as Eric had been dividing the spoils, Buzz had confronted his brother on his poor treatment. A fight had ensued and in the disarray, a firearm was discharged. The bullet pierced Eric’s heart, killing him almost instantly mere feet from his younger brother.

            Ever since, Buzz had been trying without much success to fill his brother’s empty shoes and liberate himself from the reputation he’d earned as useless. No matter what she tried to say to him, Buzz was inconsolable. He needed to move on in his own way, and since she felt sure Buzz was incapable of hurting anyone, she’d let him flounder on his own.

            She hoped the police would go easy on him, and that the arrest would be noble, not an embarrassment. She didn’t think he could take further degradation.  With a silent prayer to whomever may be listening, she lugged the laundry up the stairs. She paused on the landing, wondering if she should make a phone call. Disgust battled with an intense love of her son. Could she face degradation herself, if it meant that Buzz might be spared?

 

 

*                                 *                                 *

 

 

            Buzz positioned himself to face the gap in the police line. They were coming closer and faster, he didn’t have much time. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, he shot up from the ground and ran as fast as he could to the tree line. A shout rang up, an officer to his left yelled at him to halt. He only ran faster, legs pistoning and heart thrumming. Snatching in breaths and praying that he wouldn’t feel a bullet rip through his flesh, he burst through the police line. 

            Almost there! Another shout and a warning that he’d be fired upon caused his heart to stutter. He launched himself into the sweet dark cover of the trees. Freedom was tangible! He’d lose the officers in the woods then follow the river to- all of the sudden the world turned upside down, the stars were below him and he could smell the earth beneath. He landed with a thud and air was forced from every available orifice. Someone cried out in pain, underneath him! The pair squirmed and thrashed, attempting to separate themselves.

            A beam of light blinding Buzz and a loud voice commanded that he put his hands up. He did so reluctantly, realizing that he’d been beat. Beside him, Officer Cross was pulling up his pants. As Craig felt his hands grabbed and forced behind his back and cuffs snapped on, he saw other officers appearing from the murk. A few congratulated Ryan, who looked sheepish even in the low light.

            “He wasn’t wearing pants! He wasn’t wearing pants!” Buzz cried, but no one listened. Officer Pollack had pulled out his phone and was documenting the arrest.

            “He wasn’t wearing pants!” garnered seven hundred thousand likes in just a few hours.