Hey, Joe, know anything about this guy?
Kelley? Devin? No. Wait, let me see that form again. Dishonorable? One-year sentence?
That’s what it says. Beat up his wife and kid. The kid died. Skull fracture.
Well. His life’s finished now. With a dishonorable he’s going to be looking a long time to find a job. He’ll wind up like all the others — working under the table for peanuts. No benefits. No pension. A lot of them go for the bottle. Or something stronger. End up on the street, sleeping on a piece of cardboard. He’ll need a lot of luck.
Shame, in a way. Sometimes I hate this job. Couldn’t the Air Force have found something less mean for me to do? One moment of anger and he’s finished. Surely he didn’t mean to kill the kid. Just flipped. A few seconds out of control and his whole life is ruined. Do you ever stop to think how many lives we are ruining? There are well over a hundred DDs issued every day of the year. It may be just paperwork to you and me, but it’s life and death for the people who get them. Now where are those notification sheets for the NCIC* database? Got to let them know to put his name on the no gun buy list.
Should be right here, but the slot’s empty.
We do use ‘em up fast. Maybe something about the Air Corps attracts people with short fuses. I’ll call Supply for some more.
OK. Put his file on the table; we’ll finish it after lunch. Still seems like a pretty heavy hit. Still young and his future’s already gone — just like that.
[Later]
Joe, where’s that Kelley file? I thought I left it right here.
Some eager beaver must have grabbed it and sent it on down the line. I’ll go track it down.
Y’know what? Never mind. Maybe someone’s sending us a message. “Charity begins at home” or something like that. Tough enough for him to be getting a DD without us piling it on. Let it go. Who’s to know? Mistakes happen. No system is perfect. We’re supposed to be the country of second chances. Who you got next?
________________
[The FBI’s National Crime Information Center.]
Vance Weaver 