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I drove my cruiser slowly up the main street, watching for tourists doing something stupid. I appreciated that tourism drove our town’s economy, but I didn’t appreciate the side effects: pickpockets, drunken college students, and people who didn’t respect the ocean.
The Pacific Ocean could be dangerous, between mostly cold temperatures and the huge sneaker waves that seemed to come out of nowhere and drag you under. I had seen more than one tourist come close to having their day at the beach end in tragedy. Dumbasses.
I shook my head and wondered about my mood. Today I felt off – kind of cranky. It wasn’t like me to be cranky. I was usually a pretty even-tempered guy, as long as people followed the rules. My career in the Navy had instilled in me a deep sense of duty and order. Some people thought I was a bit inflexible, but they also knew I was fair and reliable, slow to anger and good in a crisis.
It had been a no brainer to go into police work after my discharge from the Navy, where I most recently had done a stint with the military police. I worked as a rank and file officer with the police in Portland for a few years, but when a position came up in my hometown of Diamond Bay I had jumped at the chance to go back to my roots after so many years. The pay wasn’t as good, but the quality of life definitely was. And I didn’t have to worry about getting shot on a daily basis.
I headed towards the residential side of town. As the sheriff I didn’t actually need to patrol; I had deputies for that. But I liked patrolling, it was one of my favorite parts of the job. I liked being out in the community talking to people, seeing what was happening on the ground, looking for trouble. Like over there, that lady hanging from the roof.
“What the hell?”
I stopped quickly and jumped out of my squad car, my eyes quickly assessing the situation. After years of training, it happened automatically. I categorized what I saw: woman on roof, waving at me frantically, one hand clutching the satellite dish to keep her from sliding off the roof. A tall metal ladder on ground, crushing the bushes below.
I sprang into action, running at full speed towards the house. “Hold on ma’am,” I called, making my voice calm. “I’m coming.”
I reached the ladder and carefully set it up against the side of the house, directly below the woman, and tested it for stability. I noted there was a shallow hole in the ground, which was probably what had made the ladder go off balance. I moved the ladder over a couple of inches.
“I’ve got the ladder back ma’am, it’s right below your feet,” I called up. “You should be able to come down now.”
There was a long moment of silence as I watched the woman look down at the ladder, then back up the satellite dish. A long moment passed.
“Um, I can’t seem to let go,” she said, her voice relatively calm despite her precarious situation. “I think my hand is cramped up around the satellite dish from holding on.”
I sighed deeply. Foolish woman, playing around the roof with no one else around. She was lucky she hadn’t slipped all the way off and broken her neck. I knew I should probably call Fire and Rescue, but that would take another ten minutes. I could see the woman’s arm shaking with the effort of holding on and knew that she probably wouldn’t last much longer before her arm muscles gave out.
Testing the ladder for stability one more time, I put my foot on the bottom rung and began to climb, talking as I made my way up to the roof.
“I’m coming up,” I called, my voice calm and cool. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to hold onto your waist, and then you’re going to let go, and I’ll slide you down to the ladder so you can reach the rungs and climb down.”
She laughed nervously. “Well, that sounds like it might work,” she answered.
“There’s no ‘might’ about it, it will work,” I said firmly.
I reached the top of the ladder and moved to stand on the second rung from the top, leaning my torso against the slant of the roof. I ignored the gutter digging into my abdomen and reached for the woman. Stretching up I grabbed onto the woman’s waist, my hands digging firmly into her sides, and ignoring the tempting site of her round bottom in my vision. I loved a woman with curves, but I needed to focus.
“OK I’ve got you,” I said encouragingly, subtly tugging her waist to encourage her to slide down.
“Yeah, I can feel that,” she answered drily. She continued to hold on.
“Let go of the satellite dish now,” I ordered, lowering my voice to make it more authoritative.
There was a long pause. “I can’t seem to let go,” she finally said casually, as if she were talking about the price of vegetables in the market.
We stood there for a few minutes, her grasping the satellite dish and clearly trying to psych herself up to let go, me grasping her waist from the ladder. Ticked slowly by. I didn’t know how much was because her muscles were cramping and how much was fear of falling, but we couldn’t hang out on the roof forever. She needed to let go. I loosened my hold one hip.
“What are you.....ow!”
The woman jumped as I pinched her side, causing her to finally lose her grip on the base of the satellite dish. She shrieked as she slid down toward me, but she was a little thing compared to me and I caught her easily, stopping her slide. I eased myself down one rung on the ladder and maneuvered her feet onto the top rung.
“There you go, you’re on the ladder now,” I told her calmly. “You just need to step down. I’m right behind you.”
She started moving down the ladder and I stayed a couple of rungs below her, just enough so my chest was level with that delicious backside so I could easily catch her if she slipped or fell backward.
“Did you really pinch me?” she asked quizzically as we climbed down, as if she thought she had imagined it.
“I had to get you to let go somehow,” I said reasonably. “You were too focused on falling.”
She shook her head as I reached the bottom of the ladder and set my feet back on the ground. I held the ladder for her as she descended the bottom rung onto the ground below. She plopped down on the ground as if her legs had given out. The woman stared at her lap, breathing heavily. I stood over her, assessing if she looked hurt in any way.
“Thanks for rescuing me, Officer.....” she paused questioningly.
“Sheriff, “ I corrected. “Sheriff Erickson.”
She looked up quickly and green eyes that looked familiar widened. “Mitch?” she gasped.
I stepped back in shock as I saw her face for the first time. Even though it had been twenty years, she still had the same heart-shaped face, stick straight brown hair, and beautiful green eyes, the color of a Sprite can.
“Penny?” I said incredulously. “What are you doing in Diamond Bay? And what the hell are you doing on a ladder all alone?”