Claire VanBurgen thought there’d be more riffraff surrounding this type of thing. The shows always made it look so dramatic. Being jostled and dragged into the police station, hands grabbed in the harshest manner, slammed on little pads of black ink for fingerprinting.
Maybe it was because she was pushing ninety-three but none of that happened.
The cops kindly arrived at her small apartment at nine in the morning, right after she had eaten breakfast. They helped her down the stairs and held her hand as she got in the back seat of the police vehicle.
There were two of them. A fella and a young lady. The fella was cute. Very cheerful to talk to. When this was over, she’d had to introduce him to her granddaughter, Monica. Maybe it would convince her that this whole little adventure wasn’t completely ridiculous after all.
The young lady constantly looked confused. Claire figured she wasn’t used to booking the elderly.
She asked Claire repeatedly, “Why did you do it?”
Claire continually told her the same thing, “Why do people do anything?”
When they reached the station, they escorted her into the building and brought her to a small conference room, telling her to wait.
“I’m not being put in a cell?” Claire asked, rather surprised.
“Not yet, we need your statement and to take your information.” The cheerful fella said.
She humphed when they left the room, hands folded petulantly on her lap. She had been hoping for an interesting story, something more “cool” as the youngins said.
They didn’t keep her waiting though. The cheerful fella returned and took her information and statement.
She recounted the story as best as she could. Her memory wasn’t quite what it used to be.
Her neighbor had been making quite a raucous. As has been their habit since the day they moved in. So Claire grabbed a bat, walked to the floor below her. And beat down the door, threatening the residents in there.
The officer asked her how many people were in the apartment.
Claire said, “Just one. A young lady by the name of Monica.”
The officer narrowed his eyes a little, in suspicion. But his only reply was, “My neighbors are noisy too. But alas, we can’t let people bully them with baseball bats.” He spoke in an exaggerated dismayed tone.
“Yes, I now realize I should have handled the situation differently,” Claire said. The cheerful officer chuckled.
Afterward, he escorted her to the mugshot room. Claire was excited about this part. No more nice Mrs. VanBurgen. She’ll soon have proof that she was not the kind, little old lady everyone thought she was.
He gave her a sign with numbers on it, and they took her picture. She had dressed up for this very occasion, smiling brightly. She wanted to look her best.
After that, they took her fingerprints and her possessions. Everyone handled her very gently as if they thought she’d shatter to pieces if they were too rough.
Finally, she was taken to the holding cells. Claire was so excited. She could finally say, “Yes, I have been to jail.”
The young lady officer walked in, just as the cheerful fella opened the cell door.
“There was no crime.” The lady said, hands on her hips, giving Claire quite a scolding look. “Her granddaughter confessed that ‘going to jail’ was on her grandmother’s bucket list and she was helping her cross it off.”
Oh, warts! Blast that girl! If she had just held out for a few more minutes!
The policeman looked at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. Then he laughed, rather heartily.
“Of course it was all made up. You couldn’t knock down a door.” He said.
Claire raised her head high, dignified, “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
The policeman chuckled, “I’m sorry Mrs. VanBurgen but we’re going to have to let you go.”
“Oh, warts!” She huffed. “Can I at least sit in the cell for a while. And have my mugshot.”
The officer laughed again. “Well�I don’t see why not.”
Claire beamed as he helped her walk inside. She took a seat on the cot. It was rather uncomfortable. As it should be.
“My granddaughter won’t be in trouble, will she?” Claire asked the policeman.
“No, ma’am. She’ll be fine.” He said, with a smile.
They didn’t let her stay for long. Only about ten minutes. Claire was a bit downhearted about that but at least she can say she’s been in jail before. And, after all, she did get to introduce the cheerful officer to her granddaughter.
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