Morning Officer

 

            Dean and his wife, Lisa, yawned at the same time.  Lisa maintained a firm grip on the steering wheel while piloting her new Subaru Forrester along an open stretch of Interstate 89.

            "I’m hungry.  I can’t help it,” Dean complained.

            “I know.  You’ve already told me a million times,” Lisa replied.

            “There was a restaurant we just passed.  Why not start the day with some breakfast?”

            “You doddle too much during breakfast.  Especially if you’re sitting down in front of a plate.”

            “Doddle?  I don’t doddle.  I don’t even use the word doddle.” Dean said.

            “Just relax.  Going without food for a couple of hours won't kill you.  I’ll stop when we see a place we can get in and out of quickly.  We need to have a good time visiting Chad and our grandkids.  They don’t care how fast you drive here in Vermont.”

            “What does that mean?  Dean asked.

            Lisa did not bother to reply and continued a potentially endless conversation about food and travel schedules.  She turned the bulk of her attention to the display panel of her new car.   The car was a birthday present to herself. It still had New Hampshire temporary plates on it. Lisa liked driving fast, and the Subaru glided effortlessly at nearly any speed she dared reach.

            This was the Subaru’s inaugural road trip.  Lisa and Dean were traveling from New Haven, Vermont, to a family gathering in Sturbridge, Mass.  Lisa wanted to enjoy her car on the wide-open roads of the Vermont landscape. 

            The pastel colors of the sunrise still faded on the vast Vermont horizon.  An endless blanket of grassy fields covered both sides of the highway.  Lisa could see every car sparsely dotting the road for miles in both directions.

            The Subaru’s sound system played a true crime story from one of Lisa’s favorite podcasters.  She turned up the volume and gripped the steering wheel contentedly.  Lane markers flew past in a blur.

            “What’s the speed limit?” Dean asked.

            “Sixty-five”

            “How fast are you going?”

            “A little over a eighty.”

            “Hmmm.”

            “Why are you asking?”

            “That might be a cop up there.”

            “Where?”

            “That black car way in front of us.  I think it has one of those bars on the roof for flashing lights.”

            “I don’t think so.  I don’t see a bar.”

            “My eyes are better than yours.”

            Lisa strained to look at the black speck in the distance.  She turned down the volume on her podcast, and despite claiming not to believe Dean, she slowed down.  As the speck grew, it became apparent something was on the roof.  Lisa eased back further on the Suburu’s speed until they were barely creeping up on the black car in front of them.

            “Yep.  That’s a cop.  I told you,” Dean said with satisfaction.

            “Congratulations on being right.  Don’t let it go to your head.”

            “Don’t get any closer.  How fast is he going?”

            Lisa looked down at her speedometer.  “Sixty-five.”

            “But the speed limit is 65.”

            “I know.  I’m sure he’s just daring someone to pass him.”

            “You said no one cares how fast you go in Vermont.  Maybe you should go by him.”

            “That’s what I’m going to do,” Lisa said, flipping on her left blinker.

            “No, Lisa!  I was kidding.  You can’t pass a cop.  They’ll pull you over every time.”

            Lisa groaned and turned off the blinker.  “This is completely ridiculous.  I’m sure this guy gets a thrill from messing with people’s minds.  He lives in some Podunk Vermont town with nothing better to do.”

            Lisa matched the patrol car’s speed and kept her distance but was antsy to move faster. 

            “No, Lisa!  You have to wait until he gets off the road.”

            Lisa stewed at 65 miles per hour—a line of cars collected behind her.  Newcomers moving up fast in the left lane meekly slowed when they spotted the black patrol car leading the procession.  After discovering, they hit their right blinkers and joined the other obedient followers.

            “This cop should get a ticket, not us! He’s backing up traffic for a mile,” Lisa shouted.  “Who do we report him to?  I’m tired of this.  I’m going to pass.”

            “Lisa, no!”

            “I’ll go three mile-per-hour faster.  He’s going 65.  We’ll go 68.  He can’t pull us over for going 68.”

            “Yes, he can.  He’ll say he’s pulling you over for something other than speeding.”

            “I’m doing it.  Watch, you can be my witness.  I’m setting the cruise control to 68.”

            Dean protested, but Lisa turned on her blinker and entered the left lane.  The patrol car got closer and closer.  They could see details on its side panel insignias.  They also had a clear view of the officer behind the wheel.  He had a large head and bulky shoulders.

            “It’s a big guy driving,” Lisa said in almost a whisper.  “He’s probably spent his morning eating donuts.  Look at him.  He thinks he owns the road.  Well, who would want this ugly piece of Vermont in the first place?”

            The Suburu pulled almost even with the patrol car, and Lisa whispered to Dean, “Don’t look at him.  Keep your eyes straight ahead.  We’re not doing anything wrong.”

            Lisa squeezed the steering wheel and concentrated on the road.  She stayed between the lane marker lines until she was well past the cop.  Then she hit her right blinker and cleanly moved into the right lane.

            “I think we’re good,” Lisa said, glancing at her rearview mirror.  “He’s not doing anything.  See, I told you.”

            The words were barely out of her mouth when blue and red lights flashed on the black car’s roof.

            “Lisa!” Dean cried.

            “They could be for somebody else.”

            “We’re the only ones in front of him.”

            “Maybe he’s headed to some emergency.”

            The patrol car pushed up right behind her bumper despite Lisa's wishful thinking.  He wanted her to pull over.

            Lisa growled.  “Alright, alright!  I see you.  I’m stopping if that’s what you want.  You’re making a big mistake.”

            Lisa moved the Suburu over to the highway’s shoulder and stopped—the line of cars trailing her now zoomed past.

            “You should try crying.  That works sometimes for getting out of a ticket,” Dean said to Lisa.

            “I’m not crying.  I did nothing wrong.  This is a total joke.  An abuse of power.  This jerk is on a power trip.  He probably thinks it’s hilarious.  He gets his jollies from pulling over.

            Back in his patrol car, Officer David Clark was in no hurry.  He smirked to himself.  He knew exactly what kind of anger and anxiety were bouncing around inside the Subaru.  He cleaned his sunglasses and put on his hat before hefting his large frame out his door.  He paused to grab a flat box from his backseat and casually strolled forward.  He could see that the car passengers were watching him with their mirrors.

            The driver’s side window dropped as Officer Clark reached the left side of the Subaru.  He placed the box he was carrying on the car’s roof.

            “Good morning.  Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?”  Officer Calrk peered at Lisa and Dean with a straight face.

            Lisa knew she should be polite, but she could not help herself.  All the nervous energy inside her pushed out an unfiltered stream of words.  “No!  I have no idea.  I didn’t do anything wrong.  I was going 68.  I set my cruise control.  You can ask my husband.  I used my blinker and did everything right.  And this car is brand new, so there can’t be anything wrong with the taillights or whatever other problem you’ll make up.  So we’re having this conversation only because you’re on some power trip.”

            Lisa’s hands trembled as she continued to clutch her steering wheel.  Dean ducked her head like he expected to be tazed.  Officer Clark cracked a smile.

            “Before I start my daily power trip, This is for you.”  He pulled a large sticker from his front pocket and held it out for Lisa.  She released the steering wheel with her right hand and accepted the sticker, which read, “I love Vermont.”

            “You can put it on your car, or I see many people putting them on water bottles,” Officer Clark continued.  “I also like giving away something else.  You like donuts?”

            Lisa was too stunned to speak, but Cecilia said, “I do.”

          Officer Clark grabbed the box from the roof and passed it to Dean through the open window.  The package contained a dozen donuts.  “Enjoy those.” He said.

            Officer Clark returned to his patrol car before Lisa or Dean could respond.  He quickly got behind the wheel and sped off down the highway.

            Lisa took half a minute to compose herself.  She smiled and then chuckled.  “I told you it was going to be fine.  And now you have your breakfast.  You’ve gotta love Vermont.”