Suzie’s House 474 : Pulled Over

Jim pulled the blankets over his head and held very still. He was playing possum, but with so many people in the van, who was to say he wasn’t really sleeping? Maybe no one would even notice.

“License, registration, and proof of insurance, please.” The cop’s voice, firm and grave -the way cops all over the country always sounded, came from right above Jim’s head. It felt too close, even through Jim knew the man stood next to the driver’s side window on the other side of the seat.

“Oh. Right! It…. it’s right here. Bonny, it’s in the glove compartment.” Rick’s voice wavered nervously. “Jesus! Sir, put the gun away! You just about gave me a heart attack.”

Everyone in the van fell silent. You could practically hear the mass of in-drawn breaths.

“Fifteen officers have died in the line of duty on this strip of road. I’m not taking any chances. No fast movements.”

If Jim could possibly have held any more still, he’d have done so. His fingers fisted so hard around the gold watch it was bound to leave marks.

“H..h..here!” Boney’s voice dripped fear and papers chattered in the space between front seats.

The sound of papers crinkling passed out the window. Then footsteps on rock chip seal crunched away. Voices exploded, as everyone tried to talk at once, but Jim stayed safely wrapped up.

“Hide me,” a man by the back door said.

Jim recognized the voice as belonging to someone they picked up at the on ramp when they hit the interstate. He was a think, dweeby guy with glasses. That was about all Jim knew about him, though he’d been in the van for a couple of days now.

“Hide? Where is there to hide?” A girl’s voice.

“Yeah. Why do you want to hide anyway?” Some other guy Jim didn’t know.

“I’m wanted for distributing. It’s a felony! What am I going to do? He’ll run me for sure.” The guy got more and more heated.

“Distributing? You got anything on you now? I could use some?”

That comment got some laughs.

“It ain’t funny,” the guy said.

“Yeah. It ain’t,” Rick said a lot louder. “If you cost me this van, I’ll kill you. Here he comes. Someone push the drug dealer out the back!”

“What?! No way!”

Everyone was talking over everyone else again, but Jim could still hear the cops boots crunching at the window and his low voice.

“You’re paperwork checks out.”

“Thanks. Bonny, put this back.” Paper might have crinkled, but Jim couldn’t hear it over the babble around him. Funny acoustics.

“There’s just one more thing. We’re looking for a man…”

“Now! Push him out now!” Rick hit the gas as the sound of the latch at the back and the bang of the door hitting the frame was followed by the thud of a body on pavement and a grunt of pain.

Jim poked a hole in the covers and looked down the length of the van. Two guys were trying to close the doors as asphalt sped past. The cop was helping the drug dealer get to his feet. Everyone was laughing like it was the best thing, but Jim didn’t think it was funny. It could have been him all too easily.

He waited until the doors were closed and enough time had gone by that he could be sure no sirens would be going off. He tried to be real subtle about it when he came out from under the blanket. It should have been easy with everyone still talking excitedly about the whole thing, but one of the new guys spotted him right away.

“And Big Jim slept through the whole thing.” The guy with big teeth grinned as he slapped Jim’s shoulder. “Talk about a cool customer.”

“Yeah.” Jim’s smile felt sick. If only he had a van of his own. He would do things a lot differently.

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Ok, enough with the Van Family for a while. Let’s head back to Wisconsin.