Read Online First Avenue by Lowen Clausen - Free Book Online Page B

“End of the hall.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered.
    On the green tile floor a line of yellow tape led to another much larger counter that stretched the entire width of the wide hall. Behind it daylight poured in through a bank of windows. Slowly, with dread and anticipation, she followed the yellow line down the green hallway, past closed doors, past wooden benches, until she came to the counter. There, from a small speaker mounted on the wall, she heard police voices, like on television, with sharp piercing static coming after each voice. There were many voices, one after another—all different.
    Before her was a bell on top of the counter, but she didn’t ring it. A policeman sat at a desk not far from her. She carefully lifted her hands onto the counter and waited for him to see her.
    When the policeman looked up from his paperwork and noticed her, he pushed himself away from the desk. He removed his glasses and carried them in one hand as he walked toward her. He was older than she thought a policeman would be, and his white eyebrows stuck out in all directions. His face was not unkind.
    “What can I do for you, young lady?”
    She cleared her throat and wet her lips with her tongue. “I’m looking for
Officer
Wright
. I called the information office, and they said I should come here.”
    “I’ll check and see if he’s working this morning.”
    The policeman walked into the next office and came out carrying a long clipboard with many pages held in place beneath the clamp.
    “Yes, he’s working. What is it you would like to see him about?”
    “I’m a relative of his.”
    “A relative.”
    She could not tell if he was asking or merely repeating what she had said. She was sure, however, that he was looking at her black hair and her skin that must now be turning red. “A distant niece,” she said.
    “A distant niece. Explain to me now what that means.”
    “I came from Alaska .”
    “Oh, well, that is distant, isn’t it. What is your name?”
    “
Maria
.”
    He wrote
Maria
on a piece of scratch paper.
    “Last name?” he asked.
    “He won’t know me.”
    “That’s all right. I always like to know who I’m talking to.”
    “Simonson,”
Maria
said so that the policeman could finish his line.
    “All right,
Maria
. Why don’t you sit down there on the bench, and I’ll give
Officer
Wright
a call.”
    She went to the first bench and sat closest to the counter. The policeman returned to his desk and she heard his voice. She thought he was talking on the telephone.
    “Radio, have Officer Wright on David-4 return to the station and see the hole crew as soon as he can. Right. Thank you.”
    A moment later from the speaker on the wall, she heard the radio operator calling for 1-David-4. She listened intently for the return voice. There was none, and in the silence that followed she smoothed her dress across her lap with one hand while the other remained protectively on top of her purse. She sat straighter on the bench so that her backbone barely touched the wood. Again the voice on the radio called for 1-David-4, and again there was silence. She heard the telephone ring in the office beyond the counter, and the police officer answered it and spoke briefly. She heard his chair scraping on the floor, and he appeared at the counter.
    “
Officer
Wright
is out of the car right now, and we can’t raise him. He probably has his radio turned off. When he clears, I’ll call him again.”
    “Thank you.” She tried to smile.
    “Would you like a cup of coffee?” the policeman asked. “I’ve got some here.”
    “No thank you.”
    “It shouldn’t be too long. He told Radio he was going into the Donut Shop at First and Pike. He seems real fond of that place right now. I hear him logging out there a lot. You sure you wouldn’t like a cup of coffee?”
    “No thanks.”
    “All right. Sit tight, then. I’ll call him as soon as he clears.”
    Maria nodded and the policeman returned to his desk. She could