A Bump in the Road

keys to freedom

A Bump in the Road (650 words)

 

 

     I’ve been racking my brains out, on trying to remember an event in my life, that elicited a fight or flight response. One would think that a wizened old man, such as myself: would have a storehouse of momentous moments to choose from. Of course-- we’ve all had those little mundane moments in our lives, when we needed to make a decision to stand firm: or cut and run. Everyday boring stuff like �"well I can’t think of anything now, but I’m sure there are a myriad of such moments that made us the saints and sinners that we are today.

 

      Wait! Wait! A distant memory, that my brain almost erased, has just re-surfaced from my wine soaked mind.

 

     A long, long, time ago, when the internet did not yet exist, a young lad of fifteen crept out of his house into the morning sun with his parents car keys in his hand. With trembling fingers, he put the key into the ignition, and fired the car up. As he backed out of the driveway and on to the road, he put his foot to the pedal, and rode on the road to freedom.

 

     He felt like a man, with his hands on the steering wheel, and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Life couldn’t get better than this, as he felt the speed beneath his feet; a bit too much as it turned out.

 

     Bang! Crunch! He stepped on the brakes, but it was too late to avoid the hit, as he misgauged the distance between his car and the one that he crashed into. He wet his pants as he stared into the abyss. Panic started to well within him.

 

     The owner of the other car was a young woman in her twenties. She came out of the car to look at the damage and to see if I (yes, yes, it was me all along) was alright. I said I was fine and needed a moment to gather my wits about me and would be out momentarily to exchange our license and insurance information. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding.  

 

     I had my brother’s license on me and the insurance card was in the glove compartment. I looked around eighteen and probably could have got way with the deception. But the panic that I was trying to keep at bay took a firm grip on my body, making my foot hit the pedal; whereby I fled the scene. The look of shock on the women’s face has been forever etched into my memory.

 

     I pulled into my driveway and ran into the house. No one was home but my brother. It was he who gave me his license and persuaded me to take a joy ride. I told him what happened. He yelled at me for, leaving the scene and being seen, and told me I needed to hide. I promptly hid under the bed; waiting for my parents or the police to arrive.

 

     It was the police who showed up first.  They knocked on my door. I begged my bother to tell them I wasn’t here. He told me not to worry for he would never rat me out. Which he proceeded to do the minute the officer raised an eyebrow when my brother insisted I wasn’t home.

 

     He ran back upstairs, grabbed me out from under the bed, and told me the jig was up. I went downstairs and wailed like a baby.  They told me I committed a crime, and already informed my parents, (who were at work), that I was being arrested for: Hit and Run. My parents gave them their consent to take me to the police station for booking.

 

     One of the officers cuffed me and led me to their car. Some of the neighbors stared in disbelief. I felt like an Outlaw. It felt kind of cool…