Rough Men (24 page)

I never met Trevor Slot, though he lived just a couple of streets from me, and our daughters attend the same elementary school. We were close enough that I heard the cancer story before the media did, hushed whispers between mothers of other small children, talking about how sad it all was, how tragic. Yet, as sad as it all was, it was something else too. It was heroic.

Officer Slot gave his life to maintain public order. Not as a sacrificial lamb, but as a genuine badass, likely in the sort of way that the people who knew him outside of work, friends from church perhaps, never would have seen. Weeks later, I saw his wife and kids as my friend Scott and I took our daughters trick-or-treating along the usual route. Officer Slot’s family had nothing but smiles and hellos for everyone. It would have been easy to shut off the lights and not participate. Apparently, that wouldn’t have been good enough.

Officer Slot was the purest definition of a rough man. He knew every day when he put on his uniform what the risks were,
and that for him, they were worth bearing. He is, quite literally, the kind of man that allowed us on that fateful day to live our lives safely, without even being aware that violence was afoot. Much thanks to all of you in law enforcement and the armed services who do the same.

At the time of this writing, it is my understanding that Mrs. Slot’s cancer is inactive. I wish her all the best in her battle with this terrible illness and look forward to seeing her for many Halloweens to come.

Endless thanks to my endlessly supportive family, who have helped this writer endure stress beyond measure. The most-affected victims being, of course, my wife and daughter, who are far more wonderful and loving than anyone I deserve to have in my life, but yet continue to stick around and support me, even through the frustrations of writing. A simple thanks would never be enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I love you both so much.

My parents, equally as supportive, are also deserving of a round of applause and perhaps a few high fives. Through their tireless efforts to help, listen to, and bolster this writer’s confidence, I manage to maintain the ability to sit alone before a keyboard and make imaginary friends absolutely miserable. Again, a simple thank-you would never be enough.

A thanks as well to my dear friend—and editor—Terry, of Amazon, who made the third time a charm for me, and of course, offered the kind of wisdom to help make this book everything that it could be. Additional kudos to my partner in the lab, David. Three books down, and this one edited faster than the rest, I truly feel like we’re forming some sort of superheroesque duo, and that we could likely edit a book in the most dire of circumstances, and at lightning speed.

Thanks to my good friend Jacque for her efforts in supporting her “kids,” her childlike author stable of man-creatures and woman-beasts, which she does a wonderful job wrangling, and to whom I offer a simple quote, from a simple man: “A woman is a lot like a refrigerator. Six feet tall, 300 pounds...it makes ice.”

Thanks to another good friend, Ms. Sarah Burningham of Little Bird Publicity, who has done so much for my career that it seems sort of impossible, and has also given me a shoulder to whine into on more than one occasion. As with everyone else on this list, I can’t say thank-you enough, and I truly hope we work together again. Not only for selfish reasons—you are the best—but also because you’re a sheer joy to talk to and work with. Also, by the time this book is released, I can say, “Congrats!”

To everyone at Amazon and Brilliance Audio, kudos for your efforts on my behalf, and though there are far too many of you to name, I will try. Thanks to smooth-talking Luke Daniels, Sarah T., Rory, Alex, Katie of 47 North, Patrick of 47 North, Megan, editor Jessica, editor Ashley, all the folks at Thomas and Mercer, and everyone I forgot, thank you all so much.

To my first readers, Dad, Greg, and Jacque, thanks, as always, for helping with early feedback and confidence restoration.

One last thing: thank you.

Megan Davis of Silver Gallery Photography

The author of
A Good and Useful Hurt, Nickel Plated
, and
From Ashes Rise
, Aric Davis brings a unique flavor to his writing thanks to his sixteen-year career as a body piercer and punk-rock aficionado. Alongside reading and writing, he takes special delight in roller coasters, hockey, chilly weather, and honest friends. He lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, with his wife and daughter.