The Archangel Drones by Joe Nobody

management of life and family.
    While Dole was sure he wanted to be a peace officer, he definitely didn’t want to follow in his dad’s footsteps. The younger Kirkpatrick often found himself at odds with his old man, constantly questioning the methods, tactics, and results of the local precinct. More often than not, the son found himself on the opposite side of the issues discussed around the Kirkpatrick dinner table.
    Always an astute child, he’d watched his father struggle with checking the “my way or the hard way,” attitude at the door after arriving home. If he made it home at all. There had been countless nights sitting up with his mother, waiting for either the dreaded phone call or the old man’s footfalls climbing the tiny apartment’s stairs. As Dole grew and matured, there was a string of black marks in the follow-in-the-footsteps side of the ledger. Yet, pinning on a badge seemed part of his destiny.
    Then everything had changed without warning or discussion. In his early teens, Dole had come home one day and received urgent orders. “Pack your room; we’re moving.”
    He’d never found out why his father suddenly had to leave the NYPD. He’d overheard only partial conversations and half-baked rumors indicating father and son legacies were no longer vogue within the politically charged department. Other stories delved further into a dark innuendo of corruption and skullduggery where Dole didn’t want to explore… didn’t want to know.
    Seemingly unaware of the trauma they were invoking on their son, Officer Kirkpatrick and his high school sweetheart of 18 years had loaded the contents of their small Brooklyn apartment and headed west in a rented U-Haul. But they could only pack the physical things. There wasn’t room in the moving van for their son’s social circles, friends, and the comfort of familiar surroundings.
    The upheaval in Dole’s teenage life had been painful, his previous existence simply vanishing in the rearview mirror with the image of New York’s largest borough. Absent were his buddies, teachers, grandfather, and streets of his childhood. Soon those were replaced with a completely different cadence of living including tap water that harbored a foul taste, and strangers who ridiculed his accent.  
    Still, he tried to make the best of it, focusing his energies on making a fresh start in Dallas, Texas. That glimmer of a brighter future included visions of a closer, more open and honest relationship with his dad. Maybe the slower pace of the country would offer the two more time together. He envisioned baseball games, county fairs, hayrides, and rodeos that they might share.
    For a time, the Lone Star state had given Dole hope of a normal family life. The young Kirkpatrick’s dream was quickly dashed, however, his father immediately falling into the old routine of picking up as much overtime as possible. “We have to make ends meet,” his dad had explained after one especially late evening. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, son.”
    “Then why do you do it? You’re smart. You could get a job anywhere that pays more.”
    “What? And not be a cop? I can’t think of anything else I’d want to do with my life. Being a police officer is honorable. It’s the high ground. It represents the gratification of accepting a moral calling,” his dad had refuted.
    With age, Dole became more conservative in his politics, more in line with his father’s view of the world and law enforcement. But his dad had changed since leaving the NYPD, some chip constantly parked on the old man’s shoulder. Although it was due to a completely different reason, the senior Kirkpatrick was still firmly against his son following in the linage of law enforcement. “It’s not for you. I want you to do something better… have a happier life. Things aren’t the same for a cop anymore. The whole ball of wax has turned to shit, and I’d hate to see you neck deep in it like I am every day.”
    Dole had