Grumpy Old Man

Ace looked at the hairs on his chin in a mirror. “These old whiskers are getting awfully white.” A lifetime of police service, and now he was a retired old fart.

He stretched his creaking joints and went downstairs. Even the stairs were getting harder for him. Soon he would have to consider abandoning the second-floor bedroom and sleeping on the living room couch.

How would his Deborah feel about him leaving the bed they shared for so many years? Oh, he missed her so much. He remembered when they were young and full of energy. His thoughts drifted to a time when they went for a hike in the woods. The trail was a loop, but they ventured away from the path and stumbled upon a waterfall. The day was hot, and the water was inviting. Without hesitation Ace jumped in.

Deborah didn’t find it funny and scolded his childish behavior. But he just smiled and splashed around enticing her to join him. Soon she was in the water too, clothes and all. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He could feel her embrace now, as if the memory was a blanket. He shook his head, “Come on, you old fool,” he told himself, “no time for daydreams.”

The spring sky was shining through his front windows. Ace smiled as the sunlight warmed his face. He looked at nature budding in his meticulous yard. His rising mood dropped when he spotted his neighbor walking that horrible dalmatian up the road.

That dog barked all hours of the day and night. 6 AM on a Saturday morning, assuring no one slept in on the weekends. Of course, everyday was the weekend now that Ace was forced to retire. That’s where he met his lovely Deborah. “She’s the best officer in the unit,” he would tell all the new recruits. And he meant it.

The dalmatian was coming closer to his yard, and Ace knew what was coming next. He had to get out there to stop it. He bustled out of the front door already in a rage. “You get away from my flowers!” he growled from within the white picket fence that lined his property.

His neighbor, surprised by the outburst, took a step back, but not the dalmatian. He went ahead and urinated right on the spring tulips. Ace’s fury spread through him as he looked at the now drooping flowers spilling piss from their petals. “Do you not see what your dog has done? Those tulips just bloomed and now they’re done for.” Ace couldn’t believe the audacity of his neighbor who gave a condescending smile and tugged his dog down the sidewalk to piss on someone else’s flowers, without so much as a muttered apology. “I tell you every day! Stay away from my garden!” he yelled after them. But the neighbor didn’t even look back.

Ace went back inside the house, his anger deflated to frustration. When did people start to look past him? It seemed like the older he got, the less his voice was heard. “No respect,” he grumbled to the empty room.

He took a sip of water, as he watched the dalmatian drag his owner down the block after a stray cat. Ace gave a half smirk, “Serves you right. Not training the dog better when he was a pup. Barking early morning and ruining my tulips. Now who is walking whom, I ask ya?” He turned from the window and repeated to no one in particular, “Serves you right.”

The day carried on and before he knew it, it was lunchtime. Somehow the days flew by and dragged on at the same time. He sat down in the armchair that looked out the front window. The tulips hadn’t recovered from their assault this morning. Deborah had planted those flowers years ago. Every year they returned to celebrate her.

The mail would arrive soon, and he had a bone to pick with their carrier. As a whole, he respected mail carriers. Especially their loyalty to deliver the mail in foul weather. Dedication to doing a job right was important to Ace. He scripted what he was going to say to her today. He had tried being nice, but she was clearly not understanding him. Today, he had to be firm.

She strode up the path to the mailbox, and he politely met her at the gate. He cleared his throat and began, “Megan, I know we have discussed this before, but you are still putting advertisement letters in my mailbox.”

Megan reached past the fence and patted Ace on the shoulder, “Hello to you too,” she said with a smile.

“Yes,” Ace was taken aback by her reminder to use his polite manners. “Good afternoon,” then he went on, “Back to the junk mail issue. I understand that it is addressed to the homeowner, but really it’s all rubbish.” She flicked through the stack of envelopes in her hand before plucking out his and showing it to him.

“Now you see?” he looked at the stack, “most of this is trash. What do I need with Invisible Fence advertising when I have this very useful wooden fence right here?”

“Oh, you are in a grumpy mood today, aren’t you?” Megan said as if talking to a toddler mid tantrum. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave a small wave as she moved onto the next house.

There it was again. Ace used to be a force that was heard. His voice shook fear in hard criminals. He took down drug deals and made grown men with neck tattoos weep like babies. Now he couldn’t even convince a civil service worker to listen to his requests to not fill his mailbox with letters meant for the garbage.

The frustration from the day was boiling inside him. When he saw the squirrel jump from the neighbor’s tree onto his roof, he exploded with rage. “Get off my roof. Disgusting vermin! Get off my house!” He walked around to the back of the house, watching where the squirrel went next. “Don’t you even think about squirming your way into my home. It’s My Home! Not yours!” He saw the squirrel checking the gutter for a hole, “Ha! That hole was fixed last summer. You’re not getting in, so go away.” The squirrel looked down as if noticing him for the first time. At least the squirrel could still hear him. Although it did not seem intimidated. It moved onto the next yard out of boredom, not fear.

Ace returned to his chair by the front window. He felt heavy with failure. He thought about his days as a police officer. He longed for the chase. But now he could barely get off the couch without aches and pains.

He longed for his younger days. Deborah and Ace were partners in the field and in life. They were the leading team on the most dangerous cases. When they gave orders, everyone obeyed. Deborah outranked Ace, and she led the command. Every time she advanced in the ranks, he felt so much pride, there wasn’t room for envy.

The sun lowered behind the trees, leaving the sky a muddy gray. His eyes were heavy and eventually he succumbed to exhaustion.

He woke to a bright light shining through the front window. It was dark outside. How long was he asleep? The light shown brighter and Ace felt a shock of hope. Could it be his beautiful Deborah coming home?

There was a jingle of keys at the back door. “Attention Furrst Sergeant?” She called into the house. “I’m home.”

Ace got down from the chair and rushed to the kitchen. He greeted his Deborah with kisses all over her face. “There’s my good boy,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. Long case. But don’t you worry, we got the bad guys. Are you hungry?” She scooped a cup of food and poured it into a bowl. “There you go.” She stroked her fingers through his fur, and he wagged his tail.

Everyday Deborah reports to the station, leaving Ace home alone. But every night she returns, and they reminisce about their years in the Canine Unit. It is his favorite time of day.