Ulysses and the Sirens in Cathedral City

By Bob Garrison

A while back I was disturbed to read in the Desert Sun that a Cathedral City police officer was himself arrested for trying to touch three lady swimmers in a backyard pool, late at night. He disrobed and joined them in the pool. The situation is so exotic it begs investigation. My mind whirled. This is a rewrite of something special. Of course! Ullysses and the Sirens, from Greek mythology. And so it unfolds! History repeats itself in Cathedral City! 

 There was little information put forward in the paper. Only that a neighbor phoned the Cathedral City police to complain that there was noise coming from what was apparently a late-night, backyard pool party.

 One might speculate that the women accused the officer of toucing them to distract from the noise complaint. The policeman denies he molested the women. He says, she says….

 The fact of the matter is, The ladies were in the pool – in their bathing suits – when the officer was let into the home and led out to the backyard. Some friendly dialogue must have taken place, because the policeman felt welcome to start to remove his uniform. First his shoes and socks, then his shirt, then his pants, then his shorts. Oh yes, the holster was tossed on a canvas pool chair. And on top of that he put his service pistol. Time stopped.

 The three Sirens called him into the water….

 Yes, the Sirens sang. Ulysses listened. At this point in the story, I was transported to ancient Greece. I looked up and the back yard in question was, in my mind’s eye, now ringed with Doric columns, and I heard the faint sound of lutes floating through the air.

 What followed then only the gods know for certain. Everyone was polite. The ladies complained that they had been touched indecently. The ladies called the police. Ulysses got out of the pool and hurriedly went back to work. The police reports document the rest.

 Another brief story appeared in the paper, noting the swimming policeman was let go by the Cathedral City Chief of Police. Brief and polite. The Chief must do what’s right, after all.

 After a few months, there is another brief story toward the back of the paper. It said, succinctly, that the cop had been rehired. No explanation.

 For one fleeting moment, I bonded with the Chief of Police, who bonded with his ex-Ulysses, who gave in to that ancient and totally male call into the pool. It has nothing to do with the law. It’s what evolution does to the earth’s fertile men in order to populate it.

 It’s that white light that penetrates from the center of the forehead and connects with three Greek sirens. No earthly person can resist. Well, a cocktail may help a little…or the tossing of a pistol on a canvas chair by the pool. The chief knows this and, in his wisdom, knows that this was a one time experience of a receptive male who, by this time, may have forgotten about initial lure of the whole ordeal.

 And, who knows, those ladies may get together once and a while, to laugh up that evening. But they may also privately dream of that balmy night in Cathedral City, and that crazy, cute cop in the pool.

 

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