January 2nd.
11 PM.
Kazka Street, Lawson's Convenience Store.
A patrol car is parked by the roadside, and the door of the passenger seat opens. John, dressed in a police uniform, steps out of the car.
He jogs in place for a few steps and does a few squats. Sitting for long periods of time in middle age can be uncomfortable.
A young Mexican police officer gets out of the driver's seat and walks over to John, mimicking his movements to stretch.
John looks at the Mexican officer and then at the police car, asking, "Rookie, did you forget something?"
When he says the word rookie, John's feelings are mixed, a bit resistant yet a bit excited.
The resistance comes from how people used to call him a rookie, but now he has the right to call someone else that. That's right, he's got a new partner and has become the officer's training officer. That feeling... it's damn cool.
"Sir, what are you referring to?"
"You didn't lock the car."
"But we're right by the police car..."
