Get Off My Road

The traffic snarl had cars, trucks, and other vehicles packed bumper to bumper and practically door to door across the six lanes of expressway. All vehicles pointed toward the outskirts of town and freedom, but none were moving.

The white-haired woman huddled behind the wheel of the antique Ford muttered aloud, "Expressway, now that's a oxymoron if I ever heard one. I should have known the one day I decide to take a drive... I should have known."

A flash of movement passing her side window drew her eyes from the carpet of cars in front of her. A young man trotted toward the far distant end of the traffic jam. His arms swung naturally by his sides, and his eyes peered toward the horizon. He looked neither to his right nor to his left, just straight ahead.

"Bet he's afraid to make eye contact with anyone," the old lady mumbled. "Don't blame him. Might make someone mad."

She considered rolling down the windows to try to catch any breeze passing through, but after viewing the blowing dust and grime, decided to stay tucked in her metal closet. Before long she saw the young man jogging back toward her car. Grime and dirt or not, she wanted to know what he had discovered.

After rolling down the window, she waved her gloved hand toward the oncoming jogger. "Please, please!" she called. "Could you tell what's holding us up?"

The startled man stopped and stared at the woman. She seemed bowed and bent, with large hands inside the white gloves. Her face, under a heavy layer of foundation and powder, appeared rough.

She asked again, "Did you go far enough to see what's caused this traffic jam?"

"Actually, yes," he answered. "Some guy had a flat tire, and instead of pulling off the road to fix it, left the car in the highway across the middle two lanes."

"Then why doesn't someone help him change the tire or at least move the car off the road?"

"Lady, the car was just left there. No driver, no one."

The whine of a motorcycle passing on the other side of her car caused the woman and the young man both to turn and watch a policeman weave his cycle through the maze of vehicles. The man pivoted to start jogging after the motorcycle.

"Where are you going?" the elderly woman called.

"After him. I want to see what happens." With an easy glide, he stayed fairly close behind the policeman until they reached the abandoned car.

Within minutes the man raced back to pause at the woman's car window. Breathing harder after the run, he panted, "The driver... was locked... in the trunk... of his car. The cop popped... the trunk lid to... change the tire. There the guy was, duct... tape over his mouth... around his wrists... ankles..."

"Oh, my, oh my," the woman gasped, her eyes huge in her face. "Was he robbed?"

"No, some other guys... got mad because he passed too close earlier. When he had the flat... and pulled off the road, they followed him. Grabbed him, stuffed him in the trunk. Guess they drove the car back on the expressway and left it there." The young man gave a brief laugh. "The car owner said they wanted to teach him a lesson, that they were really angry."

"Well," the elderly woman replied, "a case of road rage that tied up the road. Well, thank you, young man, for telling me what happened, but now you had better get to your car so that traffic can keep moving." With a jaunty wave, she started her car and drove away.

The young man's grin, as he watched the car leave, turned to a mouth opened in shock as the "old woman" suddenly straightened, pulled off a white wig, and tossed it out the car window. From the back seat, a man sat up and waved through the rear glass.

***Writer's Cramp winning entry January 27, 2003***