S&S11 CONTINUED

‘Is that how they taught you to drive, over there, in the city?’ the officer yelled again, more clearly now, through the finally open window.

The young man tried to answer, but did not get the chance:-

‘Come on - Get your ass out of the car, now!’ the officer yelled out, having seemingly lost all his patience. Then he oddly moved aside, to allow David more space to open the car door.

Perhaps it was better that he hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything, David thought.

He wouldn’t have known what to say in that situation anyway, and rather than saying something foolish….

The officer had taken him so aback with his harsh approach that it seemed like every move David had made up to that point, every gesture, every intention he’d had, had been practically dictated to him from the start - from the moment that the cop had pulled him over, until now.

‘Well, well - Would you look at him,’ the officer growled, in a slightly softer tone now - while simultaneously trying to appear uninitiated by the young man’s imposing stature, as David struggled to crawl out of the tight car seat. At his 19 years of age, he wasn’t necessarily the tallest man the officer had ever seen, about 1.75 to 1.80m in height. Slim, but muscular - the fruits of his labour in construction however were clearly visible upon his arms and torso. His thin skin, constantly sunburned, the wide palms, always swollen from fatigue and effort.

The cop went on, as David struggled to contain himself, looking down at the open pores of the asphalt, enduring the unexpected morality lecture that the officer was generously serving him. He didn’t’ look at him directly, lest the bumpkin thinks he was somehow trying to defy him, or even provoke him, in any way. Although the officer was speaking more softly now, David could still sense the unjustified anger in his voice, vibrating through his entire body, channelling towards him through the tremulous vibrations of the shaken words and the unpredictable quivers of his body.

At one point, he thought he could even detect a hint of fear, subtly hidden within the officer’s voice. Perhaps he was just overzealous, and therefore somehow compensating for that state of insecurity he found himself in, there, in the middle of the road, in the blinding silence of the foggy morning, facing a tough - looking kid, about 20 years younger than he, and a couple of heads taller.

David suddenly felt more confident but still tried to appear as humble as before. Intimidated, even obedient - just as Albert the henchman had taught him, before setting out on the road, that very same morning.

‘So, let’s see now,’ the police officer continued, circling around the car suspiciously, ostentatiously turning up his nose in every direction.

‘We’re driving at 80KM/H, in a 50KM/H area limit… This window here - cracked - hazardous for you and any other participant in traffic … Did you even see it?’ he asked pedantically pointing a small scratch in the back window.

‘It’s right here, at the top - but, of course you didn’t see, why would you?’ he continued without waiting for an answer.

‘Fog - lights, zilch! Why would you put your lights on, on a foggy morning such as this?’ he asked again sarcastically, mocking him. Then he continued his scrutinous tour around the car.

‘That being said…’ he continued. ‘What the Fuck am I supposed to do with you now, huh?’

Only then did David realize that this strange individual most likely had no idea about the incident at the port - which had taken place not more than 1km back from where they were standing. That, most likely, they hadn’t even heard the gunshots that were fired … Lucky as he always was, he had probably just gone through one of those damned speed traps that they had all over the place now, those lazy incognito coppers, parked on the outskirts of some village, or small town, with their tiny radar guns - just waiting for some schmo to run through it and bust him for a fine. And this officer was clearly no different - probably just fishing for a bribe - like they all did. He had no intention of filling out papers, or arresting anybody - he was probably just stalling, waiting for a nice, Juicy settlement to tide him over until payday.

‘And where were you rushing off to, so recklessly, anyway?’

‘Well, I was just trying to get home on time,’ David began his rehearsed story.

‘Huh? Speak up, I can’t hear you!’ the officer demanded, squinting obnoxiously and pulling on his ear, as if to enlarge it.

‘You see, my brother -’ David stuttered, but the officer had no patience to listen.

‘Okay, okay, whatever,’ he quickly cut him off, and immediately pulled out a walkie - talkie from his chest holder. ‘Hold on,’ he said, and gestured with his finger for David to be silent.

‘Yes, Dispatch - yes!’ he shouted loudly, probably deafening his interlocutor on the other side of the speaker. ‘Car 213 here, yes.’

David looked horrified, staring alternatively between the buzzing walkie - talkie and that cretin of a cop. He suddenly felt his face turn pale. The pit in his stomach rapidly grew, aggressively overwhelming his insides. He didn’t understand what was happening, why was that jerk calling for backup? He wondered. Because, that’s what he was doing, right? Calling for backup, the fat fuck! Otherwise, why would he have turned to dispatch for a mere speeding offence? Or maybe he was just trying to scare him… Maybe he just wanted money? I have money, I can pay him, the young man thought pragmatically. I’ll just give him some financial courtesy and he’ll just have to leave me alone, afterwards….

His worry, however, suddenly turned into fear. Then, slowly, into anger. And if he doesn’t want money, maybe he’ll settle for a quick kick in the ass, the young man thought for a moment, feeling a sudden surge of fury quickly rising within him, seemingly filling the void in his stomach with even more fear and anxiety. I can either give him a hundred, or a firm punch in the mouth, he thought, completely forgetting Albert’s persistent and repetitive instructions, to not lay a single hand on anybody involved.

Dumb pig…look at him, that fucking face… David thought, nerves boiling in his head in rotten soup of anger and resentment that was so completely uncharacteristic of him, but which, confused by the tension of the unknown situation he found himself in, had no patience to digest.

If he gets one step closer to me again, that’s it - he’s done, the young man decided, determined, clenching his immense right fist, ready to strike, at any given moment.

‘Is it yours?’ the officer asked, out of nowhere. He had crouched down by the front of the car, squinting at the licence plate, and impatiently waiting for an answer.

‘Excuse me’ David asked, caught completely off guard.

‘The car, you idiot - the car! Is it yours, or did you steal it from somewhere?’ The police officer yelled impatiently. He then wet his thumb with saliva and began to wipe a less visible part of the license number, continuing to mutter silently into the walkie - talkie in his hand.

David nodded affirmatively to the officer’s question. Then he thought he should perhaps make a greater effort to express his thoughts in words, so much subtle or unobvious gesticulation on his part might have tested the already irritable police officer’s patience too much, But what could he do? He was shaken. He was downright scared shitless, as Billy would have commented - if he had been there with him at that moment.

Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, he remembered the bag in the car, the money and the guns. If they searched the car, what could he do then? They would certainly find the bag, they would investigate its contents, the little story about the sick brother, hospitalized in emergency room number 4, at the General Hospital in the city, might have perhaps justified the need for some of the money - but there was absolutely no way that he could explain the guns… At least, not in the state of emotional turmoil he found himself in - unable to answer even the plainest of questions.

The officer continued his inspection around the car. He squinted through the dirty windows of the vehicle, grimacing discontentedly at the state of the vehicle. Then he signalled to the young man to move off the road, to the side. What the fuck was he even afraid of? David wondered in frustration - there was no one on the roads at that hour … At least, nobody that he had seen.

‘Yes, dispatch, yes. One moment, yes.’ the police officer spoke. From that distance, from the side, he actually seemed to be talking to himself. Anyone unaware that he was hiding a walkie - talkie between the collar of his jacket and that swine - ish face of his would probably have thought that he was crazy - that he was talking to himself, like a moron.

This thought made David smile stupidly - and just then, in that very same moment, the officer lifted his head from the walkie - talkie and caught the amused expression on his face. He began walking resolutely towards him, covering the walkie - talkie with one hand.

David went silent. He said nothing, as the officer continued to look at him with a gratuitous anger on his face, which the young man could not understand. Why was he looking at him like that? He hadn’t done anything that serious, after all. In the worst of cases, he thought, he should just be given a speeding ticket and be left the fuck alone already? He couldn’t even remember going that fast anyway - and surely the pig didn’t intend to revoke his license for just a few kilometers over the limit, right? Especially on that deserted road, where no one seemed to ever be travelling.

But this particular individual, either he had something personal against him, for one reason or another, or was simply fishing for something more. It was almost clear now that he wanted a bribe, so why was he dancing around the subject so much?

If he could somehow reach the bag, he thought, and take out at least a few notes and offer them silently to him, in exchange for a bit of understanding…After all, that’s why his handler had given him that money, right? For expenses, emergencies …Or, ‘for a bottle of something, for when you get back, and a woman or two…’ he remembered the words of the henchman, who had provided the crucial instructions… another sporadic memory that made the young man smile stupidly.

His good mood was abruptly interrupted again however by the irritated voice of the police officer, yelling out loud in the sombre silence of the morning.

‘Alright, for fucks sake,’ the officer shouted into the walkie - talkie, ‘write this down, yes, D-J, 3-5,E-M-D. Yes! Yes - Yes, OLT-CIT - the car is a piece of shit OLTCIT, yes, I’ll be waiting on this channel, yes!’

It seemed like he was yelling louder and louder into the walkie - talkie, each time he said something, as if those on the other end couldn’t hear him anymore, or maybe he was gradually losing his hearing and had to yell louder and louder just to hear himself speak.

Watching him in that ridiculous stance, David felt increasingly more confident in his ability to recover from this strange situation - as if the officer’s buffoonish actions were revealing more and more the not so subtle weaknesses inside him.

TO BE CONTINUED…