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It was the 31st. He had some miles left for the month, so he went for a longish drive. No reason to waste those miles—if he didn’t use them, he’d lose them.
It was nice to just ride around in the car. It was a day off from work, he’d picked up his grocery allotment boxes for the next month, and he wasn’t due for any medical or dental check-ups. He could drive anywhere he wanted and enjoy the free feeling for a while.
He’d carefully calculated how far he could safely go in order to be home before the gauge read zero. So he just relaxed and drove for a while, admiring the scenery he seldom had the time to really look at. Going anywhere for no particular reason happened very rarely now. He found it delightful. All too soon, though, it would be time to go back—he checked the gauge and realized that that time was now. As he was looking for a place to turn around, something caught his eye at the side of the road. It was an awkwardly shaped lump, but it looked like it was moving. He slowed up as he got closer, and then saw that it was a person lying next to the curb, surrounded by a few scattered belongings. He knew he was supposed to ignore such things and pass on by, but he just couldn’t; he pulled over and got out of his car.
It was an older woman, conscious but looking dazed. He asked her what had happened.
“A car--travelling really fast and making a lot of noise. I turned quickly to see what was happening and then I stumbled off the sidewalk. I guess I hit the curb,” she added vaguely, as she tried to straighten up.
“Are you sure you should move?” he asked her.
“I think I’m okay… Where are my things? My cane—my purse?” she looked all around as he helped her sit up slowly. She started to reach out for her purse, which was lying close by, and then cried out in pain. “My arm, oh my arm!” she moaned. He saw that it didn’t look quite right.
“You’re NOT okay,” he said decidedly. “You need to see a doctor—or better still, go to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s too far away, it’s the end of the month--you can’t possibly have enough miles. I made that mistake a couple of months ago.” She looked up at him. “It isn’t easy when you don’t have a car. But you get used to walking…”
“Well, you can’t walk there with a broken arm and who knows what else. I’m driving you to the nearest hospital.” He helped her up and steadied her as she wavered on her feet. She took a step or two and then drew in her breath sharply. “Your ankle? Leg? Hip? Do you need me to carry you?”
“I can make it,” she said faintly, as they moved slowly to his car. “Please…I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Never mind about that—we just need to get you to a doctor,” he replied, while opening the front passenger door of his car. After assisting her to sit down, and buckling her in very carefully, he picked up her purse and cane and put them by her on the front seat. He checked the ground to make sure he’d gotten everything and then closed her door. He walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
He checked the GPS, hoping there would be a hospital back the way he came, but it showed nothing. There was one but it was ahead of him, adding rather significantly to his miles. He felt uneasy about that and glanced at the woman to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. Her eyes were shut and her face was twisted in pain. That cemented his decision. They should excuse this, he thought. I’m helping someone who’s really hurt; I’m not just driving around recklessly…
They drove in silence for some time until they reached the hospital. He helped her out of the car and into the emergency room, standing by while she spoke to the intake nurse. Then he handed her over to an orderly who appeared with a wheelchair. As she was ready to be wheeled away he touched her gently on her uninjured arm. “Good luck,” he said and then turned to leave the hospital.
The old woman watched him go with a look of uneasiness on her face. “And to you…” she said quietly.
He got back in his car and started for home. After one quick glance at the gauge, he avoided looking at it again. It was crazy, but a part of him felt that if he didn’t watch it, it wouldn’t change. That maybe he could make it home. That if he drove quickly enough, all would be well. Crazy thinking, but what else was there? He tried to ignore the feeling of foreboding inside.
A sudden thought occurred to him. While keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he leaned over slightly and opened the glove box. Reaching inside, he grabbed what he could, in handfuls, and pulled it all out onto the passenger’s seat. Then he felt in the seat pocket beside him. Not much there, but he took out what there was. The console was next. Things began to pile up on the seat. He pushed them around, some falling on the floor on the passenger’s side, and made some decisions—those particular items went into his jacket pockets. He knew there was nothing on the back seat but tried to remember what was in the trunk. Would there be enough time when he got home?
Suddenly there was a harsh buzzing sound. His eyes went immediately to the gauge—it was the five-mile warning. He looked up at the road and the cross streets and his heart sank. He’d never make it home in time. And realized that he’d known that all along, since he pulled over to help the hurt woman. Should he park the car and stay where he was until the next morning, the 1st? No—that would only cause other problems. There was no way he was going to escape this.
Long before he turned down his own street, the buzzing sounded again, but this time it was accompanied by flashing lights on the dashboard. The car’s horn also went off, repeatedly. He suppressed the urge to drive off wildly in any direction, knowing that it would do no good. He just continued heading for his home, trying to remain calm.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, there were unmarked cars on both sides of the street—and a tow truck. He left the car running and popped the trunk. He got out of the car and walked toward the back, but before he got there he was hailed by a voice speaking through a loudspeaker: “Stop where you are.” He obeyed. What else could he do? “Turn off the engine, leave the keys in the ignition, and step away from the vehicle.” When he hesitated, the voice said,
“NOW!” He did as he was told but then turned to face where he thought the voice originated.
“I had to drive further than I thought. There was a woman on the road—she was badly hurt. I took her to the hospital, to the emergency room. That’s what took the extra miles—I had to help her!”
“Step away from the vehicle.” He did so reluctantly. “This is your third infraction. According to Federal Penal Code #763, you have now forfeited use of a motor vehicle.” The tow truck’s motor started up and it moved into position on his driveway. Two men in brown jumpsuits got out; one reached into the car for the keys while the other began hooking a tow chain to his car.
The man watched, stunned, then asked wildly, “Can’t I get my stuff from the trunk?”
“This is your third infraction. According to Federal Penal Code #763, you have now forfeited use of a motor vehicle. All contents become the property of the state.”
The men in jumpsuits finished preparing the car for towing. They got back in the tow truck and started to move away. The man made an involuntary movement, reaching out to his car as it rolled out of the driveway, but the voice stopped him. “Return to your home before you violate Federal Penal Code #545.”
“But how will I get to work tomorrow? Or go shopping? Or go to the doctor?” he asked desperately. But the old woman had told him, hadn’t she…
“Return to your home, NOW.”
The man stood absolutely still for a moment. Then he turned and went into his house.
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