Four Stories: Eric

The following is a work of fiction of my own invention, based on actual events. See notes on “Four Stories: Cassie” for more details.


Eric sighed and shook his head. These kids, he thought. They don’t understand at all.

“Open the door!” he repeated in his most commanding tones.

“We have demands!” the answer came again.

I’ll bet you do. I got demands, too: get off your lazy, whining asses and let people who want to learn get to class.

Eric turned away from the door to meet with the other officers. “We’re working on the basement windows,” the cop from the LAPD said quietly. LAPD generally looked down on college cops, but this one knew he was on Eric’s turf now, and was generally being respectful.

“Try to keep the property damage to a minimum,” Eric advised. “We’ll just wind up paying for it… we’d make the kids pay, but they’d probably claim they couldn’t afford it.”

The officer smiled. “Yeah, right.”

“These kids, they just don’t know how lucky they have it,” Eric said. “Luckier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

I put myself through school doing hard labor. And it wasn’t UCLA, neither, it was community college. I worked nights for starters, then extra shifts, anything. I worked my ass off for my degree. Built myself up from nothing, broke my back putting food on the table. Now here they are: world-class schooling available for them, and they’re throwing it away for a temper tantrum. Messing it up for everyone else, too. Typical white brat nonsense. Don’t they know the value of an education?

Another officer arrived, one of Jon’s UCLA police. “We’re in downstairs.”

Eric nodded. “We’re good, then. Let’s get things back in order.”

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