Writers Forum - Northern California

It gets harder every day, Ray thought as he waited at the intersection of Chestnut and the old Route 1. He looked left, then right, leaned forward and repeated the drill. He rolled the window down and listened for a lull in the drone of tires. Adjusting the brim of his BoSox ball cap, he darted onto Route 1 like a squirrel with a death wish.

It was noon, the only time of day Ray allowed himself the luxury of driving. And then only if the sun was shining. It irked him how much convincing-make that lying-he had to do so his wife, Maggie, wouldn't worry.

Maggie wasn't so much a nag as she was a worrying machine. She worried about the weather, what to wear, about being on time and being late. "Give it a rest, woman!"

Ray waited at the stoplight next to Baldwin's Hardware store and thought he'd drop in on the way back, if he remembered, to get some more 150 watt light bulbs.

Route 1 now became a mess of strip malls-stores after stinking stores, his least favorite part of the trip. Ray stayed in the right lane, hoping to just get through this three mile stretch to his turnoff.

His mind drifted back to Maggie. The one thing he would not allow her to start in on was his driving, so he had told her to butt out.

He had been driving since he was 14 years old. He knew how to handle a car. Certainly, he could drive to the bank or the grocery store, despite Route 1 traffic. "Hell, it isn't the Interstate! I've lived here all my life. I know it blindfolded!"

Ray cleared his throat and admitted his driving was not what it used to be, but because Maggie had never gotten her license, what choice was there? If he couldn't drive, how could they manage?

A horn blared from behind and Ray slammed on the brakes. A red Mustang swept past him, a hand extended from the passenger-side window in an obscene gesture.

"Stupid kids" Ray said, his heart pumping double-time. "Crazy dumb asses. I'll show them."

Ray merged into the left lane and squealed around the curve by Harmen's Used Cars. Past that, Ray knew the road straightened out so he accelerated even more. Maybe he should play a little game of chicken with them, like he and his brother Rip did when they were young.

Ray grinned thinking about Rip, his older brother, who had lived fast and died young. He chuckled when behind him came a new sound: a siren.

Good, Ray thought at first-finally a cop around when you need one. But then he realized this cop was motioning him to pull over...what the... ?

Ray stopped in the K Mart parking lot; the cruiser followed, its blue lights flashing. The officer strutted over-muscles bulging under a starched blue shirt- which ticked Ray off more.

Ray opened his car door, but the officer said, "Remain in your car, sir."

"Say what?"

"Procedure, sir. License and registration, please." He flipped open a pad. "Any idea how fast you were going, sir?"

Ray exploded. "Me? Why aren't you chasing after that red mustang, catching some real drug-dealing criminals instead a U.S. Navy veteran?"

"Sir, you were going 55 in a 40 mph zone. Again, may I see your license and registration?"

"Sumbitch." Ray mumbled as he opened the glove box.

"Profanity," the officer said, scribbling more.

Ray handed his documents. "That's dandy, writing me up for cussing? Is this still the U. S. of A.? Or maybe this is...elder abuse, that's what! Who's your superior, boy? I want his name and number."

The policeman said, "Captain Margaret Weston, 555-0798."

"Don't that just about figure, a frigging woman!"

The officer returned his papers plus the ticket. "Sir, if you choose to contest it-"

"You bet I'm going to contest it! See you in court, bucko!"

The officer grabbed the ticket back and wrote more. "Mr. Norton, this started out a simple $50 speeding ticket, but your attitude bumped it up a notch. I suggest we end this right here, right now ."

Ray looked into the officer's eyes, then quickly away.

The officer returned to his car and Ray looked at the ticket. $95! Maggie would pitch a fit. Looking again, Ray read what the officer had added in large letters, "Senior, with attitude."

Ray waited until the cruiser left the parking lot. He tossed the ticket on the passenger seat, looked at himself in the rearview mirror.

"Damn straight," Ray said with a grin. "Damn straight."