Coming to a Street Near You

written 20:07
8/12/2007

Dim shapes show into adjusted eyes in darkness. Car eyes cast out light afront. Red widths tint, sweeping across the interior in a wide band. Rectangular glass shows starbursts blue and red. Maybe there was another checkpoint. His identification chip has been on the fritz.
Fortunate I was nearby. Heard on the police bandwidth that a car scanned empty of occupant markers on Jefferson/NAU-172. Lower eyelid is pushed out by some wetness. My car’s engine roars somewhere far from mind as my hands tremble. Get it together. Can’t look like this when I arrive. I’ll tell him…
Solid colors blur down the international highway. Free cars. The officer approaches. Maybe he’ll go easy on him. He wasn’t a runner and there’s been a lot of them. Pain in the ass for a guy just doing his job. We decide what we do. They were talking about the ticket, beside the car’s outside, when the officer turned to look. I almost saw his face before hitting him.
A stranger yelling to get in. Some hesitance. No threat noticed. A decision to comply. One order’s as good as another and this man’s more dangerous than the officer. He starts to look back at his car but is yelled at until he focuses, frantic attention.
I tell him about Jesus: He is the determinant between men going to the Kingdom of Heaven and those thrown to hellfire. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid; I hope he’s sincere. He prays and comes to tears. Hope it’s not adrenaline (can‘t tell). What do I work for if it’s insincere?
In bloodied blue uniform the officer crawls to his radio. “[police terminology, gives the template of the situation that just happened, what he caught of the vehicle description, heading, and a request for the way to be blocked off]”.
He and me are killed at the blockade.
To the men on the ground, there heads in the ground, that’s two criminals down. By God it’s known, that was one more saved.