Scattered Pieces Of A Former Life:
Logan Struggles For A Way Out Of the Maze
Briscoe managed to get to Logan before the police and hospital staff from Bellevue. Unwilling to see his partner shuffled off to that disgusting and smelly looney bin, he vowed to take full responsibility for Mike. He knew full well that he was taking a huge chance, that Logan could even attack Lennie in his wild state, but he decided not to let fear guide him through this. After all, Logan would do the same thing for Briscoe, he was sure. What Logan needed was support and familiar surroundings. Phil Cerreta appeared to have a positive effect on Logan, so Lennie decided he'd call Mike's former partner as soon as he returned to his small apartment with his partner.
Fortunately, Mike hadn't gone very far before Lennie arrived on the scene. The television cameras were still there and it angered Lennie at the thought of the media turning this into an entertaining circus. Approaching a reporter for one of the local channel's news stations, he grasped the journalist and gave him a hard shove, harder than he'd intended.
"Hey, buddy! Just what the fuck are you doing? You want me to call a cop?" The man, straighening his tie and adjusting his camera, thought he was threatening Briscoe.
Lennie pulled out his badge and said, caustically, "Okay, call one. But I really don't think you'll get a whole lot of cooperation from them."
The reporter skulked away and then Lennie was able to reach Logan, who, by this time, had a coat wrapped around him in order that he not suffer hypothermia. It was an unusually cold November day. "Hey, kid, you want to come with me?" Briscoe asked, trying to find some glimmer of recognition in Logan's bloodshot eyes.
"Um, I---Do I know you?" Logan asked, a blank look creeping onto his handsome face. "Are you gonna take me away to that awful place?"
Lennie smiled and said in a voice laced with a combination of sadness and warmth, "No, I'm not taking you back to the hospital. I'm taking charge of you from here and if the doctors and nurses at Bellevue don't like it, they can just go to hell---right friend?" Briscoe found it so painful to be talking to Logan as if he were a small child.
Logan's face broke into a grin as he said, with a hint of excitement. "They're really mean. Can I come to your house?" Logan then stared at his shoes for a few moments before adding, "Oh, but you don't have to, you know. I can sleep on the bench in the park again---it's kind of comfortable." Then Logan began fiddling with a toy yoyo that Van Buren had given him when he'd gone to the precinct. His attention span was very short, as it was with most children and Mike Logan, for all intents and purposes, was an innocent, wide-eyed child.
When the two men reached Lennie's apartment, Mike was instructed to sit on the couch while Lennie went to fix them something to eat. While Logan waited, he looked around the living room with curiousity and a youthful sense of enthusiasm. "Lennie, is this all yours? All this stuff? You must be---you must have a lot of money."
Briscoe had to laugh. "Yeah, I got money to burn." He fixed the two of them a "gourmet" meal of hotdogs and salad, but after having had very little to eat in the past week or so, Logan dove right in. Briscoe watched him closely, hoping that somehow, in some way, Mike Logan would suddenly know who Lennie was and that he'd miraculously turn back into his old self. But, looking at him and seeing the childlike behaviour and manners, he had little hope of that happening anytime soon.
"You want some desert?" Lennie asked, before checking to see if he had any in the freezer. Fortunately, Logan declined and Lennie suggested they go over on the couch and watch some televison. "There's a Nicks game on---you used to love them. Even got us courtside seats one time---remember, Mikey?"
Logan still looked at Lennie as if he were a virtual stranger. Briscoe's heart was breaking, for never before in his life had he experienced such a serious loss, even though, bodily-speaking, Logan was right there beside him.
Finally, Lennie could no longer maintain his composure. He was so extremely upset that he couldn't unlock Mike's terrible prison that he cried out, "Dammit! I hate this---that you're my partner and now you don't even know what your name is or who I am. We've worked together for five freaking years! I'm sorry we live in such a rotten and crime-ridden city. I'm sorry that I wasn't there to help you when whatever it is happened to turn you into a zombie. And most of all, I'm sorry that you didn't get to die the normal and easy way---instead of having your spirit die and leave a shallow shell of a man behind." Briscoe, overcome with emotion, began to cry softly.
Logan put his arm around Briscoe's shoulder. "Hey, there friend. Don't cry like that. You sick or something? Need a--an aspririn?"
Briscoe shook his head and did his best to pull himself together. "No, I don't need anything, just for you to turn back into your old self. With that, Lennie began to watch the basketball game with Logan, just as if it were any other night of the week. What he wouldn't have given to have that be the truth.
* * * * *
To be continued.
In the next intallment, Logan is seen once more by Dr. Olivet, who manages to extract some garbled information from Mike Logan. There seemed to be something regarding a baby's crying, that Logan heard the wailings in his head, wherever he went. This would prove to be the key that would finally open Logan's closed and tortured mind. Keep checking in.
Much, Much Later On
To those of you who have been waiting for me to finally finish this story, well, matters in my personal and professional life took precidence over my online work, so that much time has Ii have written the next installment out in longhand when I was away from my computer, so I will be typing it here for the next few days. The story is complex, for Mike Logan's breakdown is a combination of emotional upheaval and elements from his past that are directly contributing to his fragile state of mind. The next installment will concern itself with flashbacks to Logan's troubled childhood, where the seeds of despair and psychosis were first planted. I hope you will enjoy this part of the story, if enjoy is the right word to use. Thanks to all who have accessed this site and have given me positive feedback about it. I feel I have let you down with my lengthy absence and hope that there will be no more of those in the future. See you on Monday morning, after I finish posting what I've written. I hope you will continue reading and enjoying this story, if "enjoy" is the right word. I have always seen detective Mike Logan as an extremely complex man who hides most of his feelings and has a good handle on his emotions most of the time. He likes to project the image of the "tough cop," sexually active to a fault, often almost abusive in his handling of perpetrators and always ready with a joke for Max, Phil and, finally, Lennie. We got a good look into Logan's psyche with "Indifference," "Confession" and "Bad Faith," but all three of those episodes left me wanting more than I got. Do any of you feel that way too? Well, for those who want to know exactly how traumatic the events in those episodes really were, just keep tuning in here and I'll do my best to show them to you.
The Story Continues
The time seemed to crawl for Lennie, as he watched what was left of his partner. Finally, to his intense relief, Mike fell asleep on the couch. Lennie took note of how peaceful and painfree Mike appeared, lying there, slumped against two pillows. Lennie brought a blanket out from his bedroom and carefully laid it over the young man who seemed lost forever in a twisting, fog-encrusted maze. He then turned the television off and began engaging in an exercise he'd long ago abandoned for reasons of skepticism: He prayed. Hard.Afterward, Lennie drifted off to sleep himself and didn't awaken until after eight the next morning. "Geez, I gotta get to work!" He exclaimed, to no-one in particular. Then he glanced over to the couch where the still-slumbering Mike lay. Lennie knew that if he left Mke there at his place while he went to wor at the precinct, the results could and likely would, be disasterous. So, after gently shaking Mike until he was brought back into consciousnss, Lennie said quietly, "Hey, Mie. I think you should come with me to work. What do you say? We can get a cup of coffee and maybe you'll remember something. You must recall how much you love the stuff. Why, you used to drink twenty cups a day! It's a wonder you weren't stuck to the ceiing."
Mike, wiping sleep out of his clouded eyes, responded, "No. I don't like coffee. It keeps me up at night." He seemed disoriented and looked frantically about the apartment with a terrified look on his boyish face. "Where am I? Do I live here?" He frowned and appeared to be straining to remember.
Lennie sighed with the resignation of one who's learning to accept a depressing piece of reality. "No, Mike. You don't live here. You're staying with me for now. You want to grab a quick shower before we leave?"
Mike looked quizzically at his sad-eyed partner. "H-how, um----how do you "grab" a shower? You can't hold onto water, Lennie." For the first time since this nightmare began, Mike's tense face broke into an unabashed and totally spontaneous grin. Lennie wished, right at that moment, that he had his camera handy to capture the precious moment in time. In the next, however, Mike's expression reverted back to a blank and confused stare.
Mike's shower went by the boards, which was unfortunate, as he hadn't bathed in nearly a week and was quite ripe. Still, Lennie wanted Mike to go to the precinct with him,so he tossed his troubled partner a jacket and said, with mock cheeriness, "Ready to roll?" Then, when met with another confused look, he added, "And that doesn't mean we roll on the floor. It means, let's go, Mike." Lennie was beginning to catch on to the fact that he would have to speak quite literally around his young friend. Obviously, Mike wasn't processing colloquialisms and off-the-wall sayings. It was a lot like communicating with a small child.
Mike was sporting several days worth of whiskers, which gave him the appearance of one of those unfortunate street people who walk about in a haze of confusion, dirty, unshaven and uncared for. Lennie didn't want to upset Mike anymore than was necessary, so he simply ushered his friend toward the door, saying with forced bravado, "Time's wasting. Gotta get to work. Let's go."
Van Buren was already at her desk when the two men arrived at the two seven. She had been up most of the night, pouring over documents that would, hopefully, seal the fate of a murderous drug kingpin and put him away for twenty-five to life. She looked up briefly, then, upon taking note of the seedy Logan, did a double-take. "Lennie," she began, rising to her feet. "May I please speak to you in private?"
Briscoe followed Van Buren into the interrogation room, where he was told, "Look, Lennie. I feel just as badly as you do about Mike's condition, but you cannot bring him here. He's too sick to handle the pressure of what goes on in this precinct and I don't want anymore scenes here. Have I made myself clear?" Anita waited for Lennie's response.
Lennie sighed deeply and waved his hand in a gesture of annoyance. "Okay, okay. So, tell me, just what would you have me do with him? Put him on a bench in Central Park and let pigeons land on his head? Or maybe I should park him at the nearest bar. Would that satisy you?" Briscoe was angr and not afraid to show it.
Van Buren was fuming. "Listen, I'm not sitting here and listening to you give me a lot of attitude, Lennie. Take him back to Bellevue now. End of conversation!" With that, the livid leiutenant marched off, leaving a very flustered Lennie Briscoe and a distressed Mike Logan.
"Everybody wants me gone," Mike said, dejection and pain lacing his halting voic. I get everyone mad. I'm going to go for a walk, Lennie. Maybe try to go home." With that, Mie turned and ran at top speed out of the precinct, rushing headlong down the street and yelli to nobody in particular, "Hey! Show me the way home! I really need to go there!" Then, Logan came across a parked motor bike, sitting idly by the side of the road. Impulsively, he jumped on the shiny vehicle and discovered that the keys were in the ignition. Not knowing exactly how do operate the bike, Mike revved the motor and began laughing as he sped off, leaving a distraught Lennie looking on helplessly. The kid's gonna kill hiself," Lennie mumbled, making a beeline for the 27th to put in a call to apprehend his runaway partner. I just hope he doesn't kill himself.
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