by David Shank
It was half past four and not a minute more. Rennie Thatcher was as good as late. He sped down the two-lane freeway, knowing that his boss would put him through hell if he was late one more time.1
He sped up 2
His girlfriend had asked him to drop her off at home because her parents couldn't come get her. That was just like her—waiting until the last minute to tell him the important things. 3
He sped up.4
Why couldn't she have said something the night before? Even in the morning would have been good. But when he asked her, “Hey, babe, when are your parents coming to get you?” and she replied, “You can't take me home?” then there was a problem.5
He sped up.6
Rennie finally looked down at the speedometer. The needle was at eighty and rising. He slowed down gradually, glad he was almost at work, but it was too late.7
He heard that magical sound behind him. Everybody knows that sound; it's usually accompanied by red and blue lights and a fear of having to room with a burly man named Bubba who wants to make his roommate his girlfriend. At least he'll protect you from all of the other burly men if you comply. Rennie shuddered.8
Rennie swore and began to pull over to the shoulder of the road, preparing his license and registration. He rolled his window down and waited for the police officer to get out and write him a ticket. He watched in the side mirror. The cop was still sitting in his car, the lights atop the car still spinning. He said something into his radio and wrote something down. Slowly, he got out of his cruiser and began walking towards Rennie.9
Rennie began to fidget. He played with his license, looking at it just to make sure everything was still up to date. Then he dropped the card on the floor.10
Quickly, Rennie began to search around the floor and under the driver's seat for the card.11
“Out of the car, now!” he heard a boisterous voice. Rennie was scared. Had he done something wrong? “I said, out of the car!” he heard again.12
Rennie came up from under the seat and looked at the cop. He now stared down the barrel of a pistol. Rennie froze solid. He threw his hands in the air as if it were a reflex.13
“Sir, I need you to slowly open the door and slowly step out of the car,” he said more calmly, as though he was trying to gently coax the boy into compliance.14
Rennie, being careful to be slow in the procedure, reached for the handle, opened the door, and stepped out. He kept his hands up.15
“Put your hands on the back of your neck and lace your fingers together.”16
Rennie did as he was told, not sure why he had to lace his fingers. He figured out quickly why he requested this of him. The cop grabbed his middle two fingers on his left hand firmly. It was a police move. His friend had shown it to him. When they grab those middle two fingers, the hands became locked together. There was no way out, and attacking the policeman was definitely not a choice.17
Rennie figured it would be better to do as the cop said. The officer guided Ren to the hood of the police cruiser and—without even a little bit of gentleness—laid his head down on it. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and trapped Rennie by the wrists, moving his hands down to his lower back. He didn't care, the cuffs didn't hurt as much as the finger trap did.18
The officer patted him down, all the while talking about Rennie's rights. All of that “You have the right to remain silence” stuff. Anyone who's ever owned a television knows it.19
“I have reasonable cause to search your vehicle,” the cop told him, “Would you like to tell me before I look if you have any weapons or drugs?”20
Rennie didn't have any weapons. He'd never even used a weapon before. He shook his head nervously.21
Rennie's mind began to race. Do I have any weapons? he asked himself. He was going through a bout of nervous paranoia. That same feeling everyone gets when they are accused of lying. “Did I lie?” everyone asks themselves. They know they're telling the truth, but for some reason, they believe that maybe the accuser could be right.22
Rennie still didn't understand why he was in the position he was in. What was this “reasonable cause?” He tried to figure it out.23
“Sir, would you like to explain to me why there is a tire iron under your driver's seat?”24
A tire iron? That's not where it goes, it's supposed to be in the trunk.25
“You look nervous. Is this what you were diving to the floor so quickly for?”26
Oh, that's why I'm on the hood of my car in handcuffs....27
Rennie remembered why it was there, but he couldn't speak without stammering. It made his explanation seem completely unconvincing. “M—my dad. He chained—I mean—ch—changed the tire. It was full—I mean—flat.”28
The cop nodded suspiciously, then walked around to the back of the car to where the spare was supposed to be kept.29
“If your dad replaced a tire,” the police officer began, “then why is there a spare tire under there? And don't tell me it's new; I saw it.”30
Rennie knew that answer too, but was sure it wouldn't sound believable. They had a broken down old car in the driveway whose tires matched those of Rennie's car. His dad had removed a tire from that car and replaced Rennie's spare. “My dad's old car tire. An old Mustard—Mustang.”31
The cop nodded again in that same suspicious manner, this time adding an unbelieving “Uh-huh.”32
He opened the back door of the old sports car. The cops eyes glittered like he had found a treasure of incredible value. He reached down inside the car and picked up his find. Holding it out for Rennie to see.33
“Like to do a little partying, huh? This is a good brew; too bad you're too young to be drinkin' it—not to mention the fact that it's illegal to consume alcohol while driving.” The cop saw that Rennie was about to open his mouth to say something, then added , “Let me guess: your dad likes to drink when he works on cars, right?”34
Rennie nodded.35
“All right, let me tell you the deal. I'm going to write you a ticket for speeding, then one for reckless driving, and then I'm gonna see what I can write you for all these stories 'bout your dad you've been tellin' me.”36
Rennie looked like he was about to cry. The tears didn't start to fall until the cop added that Rennie would have to pay for the tow truck that would take his car.37
Then the cop started laughing. “I'm just messin' with you, Rennie. I was just doin' this to see how far I could get before you figure out it was me!”38
Rennie stared at the man in disbelief. “Who?”39
He laughed again, “You're dating my little niece! I was at her graduation party. You don't remember me?”40
Rennie shook his head.41
The cop showed Rennie his license and said, “I think you dropped this. Just make sure you don't dive to the floor of your car next time you're pulled over; it makes us think you're going for a weapon. I would've let you out of the cuffs earlier, but seeing as I know you, I thought it'd be fun to scare you a little.”42
Rennie laughed when the cop—his girlfriend's uncle—had said “a little.” He had no idea how big of an understatement that was.43
The cop let Rennie out of the cuffs and said, “All right, now here's what I'm going to do. This is your first offense, although a serious offense. I'm going to give you a warning, don't let it happen again, got it?” Rennie nodded, “Good. Now you can go.”44
Rennie smiled uncomfortably and got back into his car.45
Then he really smiled, because he had an excuse for being late this time.46
He sped up.47
48
Honorable winner
Silver trophy winner
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