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at the bottom about whose
fault it was. Mine. Because I was a forty-five year-old woman who
couldn't do a proper fucking push-up.
    By Friday, I was beyond spent. We did our hill
runs at the end of the day, including the extra five for my
improper push-ups. Cadets began heading to the dorms to collect
their things for the weekend. I was walking next to
Rocco.
    “Sgt. Dickless," I said with feeling, "is a
fucked up piece of shit.”
    I was grabbed by the arm and spun around. Sgt.
Dickens stood there, veins popping.
    “I will see you immediately in my
office!”
    Rocco gave me a look of complete terror. I
gave him a small push in the direction of the dorms and immediately
turned myself in the direction of Sgt. Dickens' office and began
marching. This was like being in grade school all over. I was
forty-five years old and being sent to the office. I swore I would
not cry.
    Sgt. Dickens was staring at his computer and
waited about five minutes before speaking to me. I knew this drill.
I’d used it on my own children.
    His voice was low when he finally spoke, “Why
are you here Cadet Ivy?”
    Before I could answer he went on.
    “You can’t run, you’re overweight, too old and
you are not cut out to be a police officer. Is this a joke to you?"
he demanded, "Will your social club give you a certificate if you
complete two weeks of the academy? How about making it easy on
everyone by going home today and not coming back on Monday? Let me
add this, if you come back on Monday I will make your life a living
hell.”
    I believed him. My stomach was a quivering
mass of jelly, but I looked him straight in the eye.
    "I became a police officer because I can do
the job. I apologize for my lack of respect today but I will be
back on Monday.”
    He shook his head and told me I would have ten
personal hill runs on Monday. He then dismissed me. I didn’t cry,
at least not until I was in my car and heading home.
    I had now made the worst enemy
possible.

 
    Chapter 9 I Will Never Call Dickface Dickless
Again
     
    My weekend consisted of lazing around and
doing as little as possible. It didn’t matter that the house was a
mess. Keeping the ice packs in place under the ace bandages on my
arms and legs was my first priority.
    I finally felt better by Saturday night. My
husband took me out to dinner and with the help of couple of
margaritas I regaled him with an edited version of events. I didn’t
tell him what awaited me on Monday. I made the entire academy
experience sound like a lark. He was glad I was doing so
well.
    I left at two in the afternoon on Sunday and
made it back to campus for study group. My class adviser had the
short straw that week and he was in the classroom ready to prepare
us for the test. His name was Corporal Tsisonnee, pronounced
Tis-on-knee. He was quiet and had not interacted much with the
class. I needed advise, and decided to speak with him after we
finished.
    He told me he had been informed of my
transgression the previous Friday. He asked what I was going to do
about it. I told him I needed to change Sgt. Dickens’ mind, and
somehow redeem myself. Corporal Tsisonnee told me it would be hard,
and it would take a lot of heart.
    There was that phrase again. Sgt. Spears from
STPD had used it as well. Corporal Tsisonnee said he believed in
me, and I could succeed if I truly wanted to. I left feeling
better.
    The following morning no one was looking at
me. Word had spread and I was not a person you wanted to be seen
with. Rocco and Donna were my only allies. I think everyone else
was surprised I’d returned.
    For physical training we headed out to the
POPAT training field. We were taken through the obstacle course,
and I got to drag the dummy for the first time. It wasn’t
easy.
    Next, we headed to the fences. The chain link
was not a problem because you could get a toe hold in the fencing.
The six foot wall was a nightmare. There were five of us that
couldn’t make it over. Rocco was one. Donna, though, made it