“I am a versatile, award-winning broadcaster with a passion for news, sports and current events.”
~ Author Ethan Rabidoux
If it was your child what would you do?
This is the question at the heart of ‘The Officer.’
Dylan Stockwell is a bright and intelligent, if somewhat awkward, teenager. His time in High School is made a living hell by five classmates who bully him and everyone else with complete impunity.
Lionel Stockwell is a highly decorated and respected officer with the Philipsville Police Department. He has gone up against the worst of the worst in his career but nothing has prepared him for the challenge he’s about to face.
Inspired by real life events, ‘The Officer’ explodes off the pages with timeless themes of honor, duty, bullying, vengeance, miscarried justice, and a father’s unbreakable bond with his son.
Author Ethan Rabidoux
A former military man, student leader and debt collector, Ethan Rabidoux is now an award winning radio broadcaster in his hometown of Stratford, Ontario.
Excerpt from Chapter 1
HE moved quickly through the hallways of his prison, walking so fast he was practically running. It was an ordinary day. The halls were crowded with awkward teenagers— the boys slurring their usual chest -thumping machismo, the girls, gravitating towards the finest faker in the crowd. For just one time, he didn’t want to be noticed. Just once. That smell peculiar to high schools— a mix of raging pheromones and the foul tang of pubescent body odor—wafted through the confined space. They all had ten minutes before second period began. The bell rang three minutes ago. Seven minutes left. The schmoozing started instantly. Instantly, that is, for the alphas and the omegas of the school corridors : the overlords of all creation at Wellington Secondary School.
He was not one of them. He was an untouchable in the high school caste system. A good day meant invisibility and those days were few and far between. So far, it had been a good day but it wasn’t even lunch hour yet. That was usually when things happened. For now, he just wanted to make it from math class to biology with his head down.
He made a hurried stop at his locker, his fingers frantically fumbling for the combination. After three tries, the lock mercifully opened. He exchanged books, stuffed them into his backpack and rushed to his next class. All around him, conversations raged. He sometimes wondered if he was the only member of his generation who could hear. Everyone else his age seemed to yell everything they said, even to people standing right next to them.
Just don’t let them see me.
The two-minute warning bell finally rang out through the school. The students slowly began shuffling off to their next class. So far, so good. Nobody had noticed him. Despite that, he was still tortured. His proactive tormentors were nowhere to be seen but the passive antagonism of his scantily clad female school chums was relentless.
Their low-cut, skin-tight tops and extremely short skirts showed off the firm curves of young feminine beauty. Beneath his beta male stoicism, hormones raged just as fervently as those of the most masculine jocks in the school. They had a shot at getting in those short skirts. Not him. The girls were usually nice enough to him but their genuine adoration went to the very people he hoped were blind to his presence.
At last, he arrived at biology unscathed and unnoticed.