The Shield

The bright auditorium lights reflected off the newly shined gold police shield carefully secured in the box where it had resided for the past four decades. Roland Kent Jr. glanced down at the gleaming parcel in his hand, remembering the last time it had been worn. Suddenly, the auditorium melted away, and instead of 2018, it was 1975. Roland was once more a young boy in his childhood home. The late afternoon autumn sunlight filled the comfortable kitchen with a warm glow as Roland observed his father, a New York City police officer, prepare for work later that evening. Officer Roland Kent straightened his uniform tie and adjusted his police shield. That was young Roland’s favorite aspect of his father’s uniform. Every day, he watched his father pin on the iconic symbol of law enforcement, just as his favorite marvel super heroes would quick change from their alter ego into their super hero persona. As much as Roland admired the superhuman characters that populated the Marvel universe, he admired his father more for going out and making their community, New York City’s ninth precinct, a better, safer place. This was not the first time that a sense of duty and service had guided Roland’s career choice. Both he and his partner / best friend, Mike, were veterans of the Vietnam War. After both men served their country together in the military, they decided to continue that service by joining the New York City Police Department.

“How was school today?” Roland asked his son as he put on his uniform hat and jacket.

“It was great! I checked a new Hardy Boys mystery out of the library and played baseball with Ted and Frank. Oh, and we read an awesome book about World War II!” Roland chatted happily with his father as he ate his after school snack. Harriet Kent was bustling around the kitchen, supervising Roland’s little brother, Stuart, as she checked that she had everything for dinner that evening. A soft smile crossed Harriet’s face as she stole a surreptitious glance at her husband and son. Nothing filled her motherly heart with more joy than witnessing her two favorite men form a close relationship with each other. Checking the clock, Harriet reluctantly interrupted her husband and son’s lively conversation.

“I hate to cut in, but if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late for your tour,” Harriet prompted her husband. “And you, little man, need to begin your homework before dinner,” she encouraged her son, catching Stuart before he grabbed a fistful of dog food.

“Bye, Dad!” Roland hugged his father good-bye before putting his snack dishes in the dishwasher and sitting at the kitchen table to begin his homework. Officer Roland kissed Harriet, with Stuart now gurgling happily in her arms, good-bye before walking out the door. The family briefly heard the restless symphony of the city that never sleeps before Roland shut the door behind him. Roland felt proud and safe, knowing his father and Uncle Mike were protecting the streets of the city he loved. The rest of the evening passed tranquilly over a supper of spaghetti and meatballs, Roland’s favorite. Roland completed his homework, brushed his teeth, and changed into his pajamas. Before settling down to sleep, Roland knelt by his bed and said nightly prayers.

“Dear God, please bless Mommy, Daddy, and Stuart. Please bless all my friends, teachers, and everyone who needs extra prayers tonight. And please keep Daddy safe,” Roland finished as he did every night. The moment his head touched his pillow, Roland drifted off to the innocent dreamland of childhood.

Rrring! Rrring! From somewhere in the distance, Roland heard a bell clamoring incessantly. At first he thought it was part of his dream. Roland blinked his bleary eyes open and the familiar surroundings of his room sharpened into focus. Immediately, Roland knew something wasn’t right. The clock next to his read 12:37 in a garish red glow. He heard two voices talking, a man’s and a woman’s. The latter Roland recognized as his mother’s voice, but its tone sent a chill down Roland’s spine. The male voice was unfamiliar to the small boy, and he crept out of his room to discover what was happening.

Tip toeing past his brother’s nursery, Roland crept down the first few stairs of the staircase then paused to listen to the conversation Harriet was having with the unfamiliar man standing next to her. Roland immediately recognized the man as a police office from the uniform he was wearing. His mother’s red, swollen eyes immediately told Roland she had been crying.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kent. There was nothing we could do. Your husband was a great cop and and even better man. He will be missed,” the officer consoled Harriet as she sobbed quietly. Roland’s mind froze, the officer’s words stuck in the forefront, swirling round and round. “Sorry for your loss … nothing we could do … was …” The officer must have made a mistake, Roland convinced himself. There was nothing wrong with his father. He had promised to spend the day with him on Saturday. They were going to play catch in the park, have lunch together, and see the new Superman movie. Suddenly, Roland’s brain jolted back to action. Emerging from his hiding spot at the top of the stairs, he descended the stair case. The office looked up and Harriet whirled around, trying to collect herself in front of her small son.

“What’s wrong, Mommy? Why are you crying?”

Harriet knelt down in front of her son and gently stroked his hair. The office turned away to give the mother and son privacy.

“Roland,” Harriet began, her voice shaking, “your father and Uncle Mike went to heaven to be with Jesus tonight.”

“Will they come back?” Roland asked, already suspecting the answer.

“No sweetheart. He can’t.”

The sorrow in his mother’s voice convinced Roland of the truth of the nightmare he had tried to deny since coming downstairs. Wordlessly, he folded himself into his mother’s open embrace, sobbing until he could cry no more.

The next several days passed in a blur of activity. An investigation revealed that Roland and Mike had been attacked and killed while on duty after responding to a domestic dispute. The Kent home was filled with a steady stream of visitors, casserole dishes, and sympathetic looks. Both officers’ funerals were held at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. For his father’s funeral, Roland insisted on wearing his father’s badge and police cap. When the police commissioner saluted the Kent family at the end of his eulogy, Roland broke everyone’s hearts by standing and returning the salute.

A few days after the funeral, Harriet found Roland sitting on his bed with his father’s shield, a pensive look on his small face.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you ok?” Harriet inquired, entering her son’s room.

“I guess,” Roland sighed. “I just don’t know what to do with Daddy’s shield.”

“Your father wanted you to have it. We’ll have to find a special place for it,” Harriet assured her son, sitting down beside him on his bed.

“I don’t want anything to happen to it. Do you think we could just put it in this box and keep it safe in my closet?”

“I think that’s a perfect idea,” Harriet agreed.

Roland carefully placed his father’s shield in the box next to him and tucked it in a secure spot in his closet.

Roland snapped out of his daydream as the ceremony emcee welcomed everyone to the police academy graduation. After several speakers, the graduates were finally called up to receive their shields. Finally, the name Roland had been waiting anxiously to hear was called.

“Roland Kent, the third.”

Roland met his son, now Probationary Officer Kent, at the podium and handed the forty-year-old box to him. A look of shock crossed the younger Kent’s face as he opened the box and observed the shield within.

“Really, Dad? Grandpa’s shield?”

“You’ve earned it, son.” Roland replied, tears in his eyes. The two men embraced, not just each other, but a legacy of honor and sacrifice spanning the generations.