Page 90 of Making It Up

“Didn’t we all remember every time anyone got a different or lesser discipline than we did?” he asks with a chuckle. “Mom and Dad tried, but it was hard to keep things equal with four of us.”

We all laugh in agreement.

“Well, I got disciplined,” I say. “I just didn’t do chores at home. I ended up doing an entire project and spending a bunch of time with Scott.”

Charlie sits back in his chair. “Yeah, I remember that. A bunch of stuff about animals and plants, right?”

“Animals, plants, soil. He was all into what we had done and how it impacted the environment and natural habitats.”

Jack shrugs. “That sounds right up your alley.”

“Yeah, now,” I agree. “But not necessarily back then. I did end up loving it, but it’s weird that Scott knew that, don’t you think?”

Jack seems to consider that.

It’s always interesting to talk with my brothers and compare memories of the same incidents. We all have our own perspectives, and the way we each recall things that happened is slightly different, even if we were all there at exactly the same moment.

“So, you think he saw your interest in all of that before anyone else did?” Jack asks. “Even before you knew?”

I nod. “Yeah. Actually, that project and Scott’s interest impacted me a lot. It was when I first realized not only my own interest in those things, but that people like Scott can be really influential. People who are in authority positions can really steer people—in good ways or bad—depending on how they react to situations and circumstances.” I pause. “It was why I thought he was so great,” I admit.

“And then you started giving him a hard time.”

I look at Charlie. “I started giving him a hard time?”

“Well, okay, so you gave each other a hard time,” he says. “I mean, you were a wild child. You were always, if not breaking the rules, certainly bending them. Testing your boundaries, stepping over the lines. You went through a long stretch where you tested every single rule anyone gave you.”

I nod and slump down in my chair. “Yeah, and after yesterday with those kids, I realized that how Scott reacted when we were messing around with those four-wheelers must’ve sunk in even deeper than I thought. He was really mad at us. Because he was really concerned. We could’ve gotten seriously hurt. He also wanted us to care about what we were doing and how it affected the environment, the animals, and everything else. He helped me see that. So that was all great. I thought he was amazing for doing all of that and taking an interest. But he was worried about us too.”

Charlie and Jack both nod. “I agree,” Jack says.

I take a breath and confess, “And then I got older and was doing all kinds of stupid shit, but he didn’t seem to care and…I think that hurt. It had sunk in for me that this cool guy I looked up to really cared about me and then…I don’t know if he just gave up on me, or maybe I just completely hyped up how much he cared in the first place.”

Charlie and Jack are both frowning, but Charlie is the one who sits forward in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“I was partying, drinking, fighting, getting other kids into trouble. Scott would come and break the parties up, and haul me home. He held me downtown and had me sober up before he took me home a couple of times. But he never really pushed it hard. He never really disciplined me. Not like he did after that four-wheeler incident. He never did anything that really made my choices and consequences sink in.”

Charlie is frowning now. “Come on, David. You knew your choices were bad. Everyone knew you knew they were. Scott knew you were a smart guy.”

I shrug. “Yeah. Still. Why didn’t he try to stop me?”

“Aren’t you glad he didn’t actually arrest you or anything?” Jack asks. “Having that on your record would have limited your career choices in law enforcement, I’d think?”

I’ve actually thought of that before. I was glad when it came time to apply to my programs and jobs.

“Sure,” I say. “That did end up good for me.” I clear my throat. “But Scott was the one who told me I’d make a terrible cop.”

“No way,” Charlie says.

“Oh, yes.”

Jack frowns. “Did he tell you why he thought that?”

“He knew I was angry about Mom. He said angry cops are bad cops.”

Jack thinks about that for a moment. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?” But I know it does.