(That's how we greet each other...it gives you the warm fuzzies.)
John: "Do you have Erins address?"
Me: "No. Why?"
John: (He's a psychiatrist and my favorite Uncle) It has recently dawned on me that your sister, Erin, has put her ducks in a row. Assembled, if you will, a trail of blame by calling everyone the night your cousin Michael shot himself.
Me: I know, that's why I called you. Call Briana, she has it.
Briana: John called. He told me to call the police. They said they would call back in 30 minutes. That was 40 minutes ago.
Me: Call them and ask what happened.
Briana: I can't, I don't have the number.
Me: His number must be in your cell phone. Give it to me.
Briana: You're right. It's xxx-xxxx.
Me: Hi, is this officer Rick?
Officer Rick: Yes it is indeed. (I heard the smile on his face.)
Me: Hi, I'm Charmaine. You were called to visit my sister because we, my sister and I, were afraid she attemped suicide.
Officer Rick: Oh....yes of course. I was just there. You're sister is not dead. I mean, she didn't answer the door but neighbours saw her earlier today.
Then it got weird. The man seemed to know my sister too well. (I've always suspected my sister was an escort or something like that...to pay the bills.) He said he lived in her neighbourhood. He said things like, "Can I talk to you off the record?" "Yes," I lied. (There is no off the record with me.) He said he'd arrested her before for stabbing some guy. "What?" I said. "If she stabbed someone isn't that attempted murder? Shouldn't she be in jail?"
Officer Rick: "Well your sister was an attorney. She knows how to work the system. The neighbours want her out, she does things like put speakers in the window sill and blast music at 2:00AM to piss them off... her house is in forclosure. She smokes meth by the way.
Me: "Huh? I wonder how she meets her mortgage payment." (I was secretly, bizarrely proud of my sister for blasting her stereo.)
Officer Rick: "She doesn't pay the mortgage. In the interim there are men...alot of men."
Me: "How do you know?"
There was something smarmy about him. He was too familiar with me. I felt something may have "occured" between them. Call me crazy.
To my sister: You are still a member of this family. You have a million apologies to make Still, none of us want to see you dead. I remember when we were young. You were smart, clever, beautiful and as ambitious as you were cruel. I can see you, ...back then. You're wearing a poncho with ridiculous dangly things. Look, there we are...rushing toward the slip and slide shrieking with laughter. There is only one way back... tell the truth and resist feeling sorry for yourself. Stop taking drugs and...uh...stop stabbing people.
Find your way back...homeward. I'm waiting.