The Lethal Ticket

Jack stepped into the elevator and pushed the floor #1 button. He looked at the other person in the elevator and smiled. The woman smiled back. She was about Jack’s age and she wearing business attire: navy blue suit with a white blouse with just enough cleavage showing to make her sexy, but classy at the same time. Her shoulder length hair was brown and in a pony tail. She looked at Jack again and began a conversation with him.

“Don’t you work up in the public relations office for the Philadelphia uh uh…"

“76ers is the name you're looking for, and yes I do.” Jack replied.

“Sorry, I don’t watch much basketball. But I did read somewhere that the team got a new guy who 7’6. God, I cannot imagine anybody being that tall,” she said with a little chuckle.

“Yeah, he is pretty tall. I just finished talking with Nike and I was trying to get them to sign the big guy to some kind of shoe deal.”

“Well, how did it go?” she asked, acting as if she was interested even though she was more interested in Jack than his daily work.

“Better than expected, but we’re still not getting anywhere.”

Then just as Jack was going to formally introduce himself to her, the elevator’s doors opened and it was time to get off. She stepped out waving goodbye and saying it was a nice conversation and she hoped to see him again. He watched her walk away and he wished he had more courage. He thought he might be able to get her number. Well, another missed opportunity. He quickly walked away in the other direction towards his car. All day he was waiting for this. Finally, he was going home and he could relax. He quickened his pace and jaywalked through the streets to get to his car in the parking garage two blocks away. He finally reached his car; it seemed so far away because he had been waiting to get home all day. He sifted in his pocket for his keys to his blue Toyota 4Runner. He got in and started the car with ease and sped out of the parking lot. He was eager to get home, maybe too eager. He clicked on the radio and turned the dial trying to find a song he liked. After fiddling around with the radio for about five minutes, he finally found a station that was playing a song to his liking. He began to sing along with the chorus of “Alive” by Pearl Jam as it blasted through the speakers of the car. He didn’t realize how fast he was going. He turned on Maloney Ave to get on the freeway. He pressed harder on the accelerator as he drove onto the on ramp of the freeway. He kept on changing lanes and thought to himself only ten minutes to home. He kept on thinking of how he was going to go straight to bed. He glanced at rearview mirror and saw some red and blue lights flickering. Oh great! This is not what he needed! Another speeding ticket. He slowed down and pulled over. He hit the dashboard a few times with his fist. He sat there waiting and thinking that he should have paid more attention to his speed rather than the song on the radio.

The officer walked up as Jack rolled down his window. The officer said with a snicker in his voice, “Are you trying imitate Bobby Unser or something. The Philly freeway is not the practice track for the Indy 500. You change lanes pretty fast. Can I see your license?

Jack handed his to the officer and the officer walked back to his car. Jack hit the dashboard again and the officer came back and handed Jack his license and then asked, “Can I see that can on the floor?”

Sweat trickled down Jack’s face as he replied, “Which one?”

“The yellow 16 ounce one,” the officer answered in his deep voice.

Jack bent to reach the can and handed it to the officer.

“Arizona, huh? Iced tea. Almost thought it was beer. Well, just remember the speed ‘round here is 60 not 85.” The officer stated as he handed Jack the ticket. Jack watched the officer walk away. He was a big guy with big arms like a linebacker. As he drove away, Jack pondered over what had happened. He ran his hands through blackish-gray hair. Sweating, he looked at his palm and wiped it on his slacks. He thought to himself that he broke his promise to himself that he was not going to get another ticket. He had done it for ten years, but now he had broken that promise. He hit the steering wheel and then he started to think of the last time he had gotten a ticket. He started to think about that night ten years ago that resulted in him asking to making this promise.

* * * *

Jack was twenty years old and at the time he lived in Sacramento, CA. He was driving in the downtown area between 24^th and 16^th Streets. Jack owned a green Nissan 280zx at the time and boy could it go. He had been speeding up and down the city streets and his two friends only encouraged him to go faster. The stereo was turned all the way up and his friends, Steve and John, were singing along with the radio. Jack went faster and faster. He figured it was 11:00 p.m. and it was only him and the road. He looked over at Steve and watched him bop his head to the music. Just then Jon said, “Aren’t you going to stop for the red light!”

“What!” Jack yelled.

It was over. Jack had already sped through the light. Luckily, there were no cars around except for a parked one. It was a police car and Jack saw its red and blue lights go on and he knew it was too late. As he pulled over his friends began to snicker.

* * * *

Jack didn’t want to think about this anymore. He noticed that the blinker was still on and he turned it off. He tried to get this memory out of his mind by turning on the radio, but he couldn’t find anything he liked. His brain kept going back to that horrible night. He skipped the officer giving him the ticket. Instead, he started thinking about what happened when he got home.

* * * *

Jack turned the key slowly and opened the door. He closed it quietly and listened for his dad’s snoring, so he would know he was asleep. He stepped into his room and turned on the light. He jumped on the bed and tried to close his eyes. All he wanted to do was get the ticket off his mind. He fell asleep quickly and woke up the next morning thinking that he would tell his dad. He thought it would be better that way. He opened the door and saw his dad sitting watching television. Jack always thought his dad reminded him of the comedian Jonathan Winters. His dad sported a big frame with a t-shirt that barely covered his stomach. Jack noticed that it looked like he wasn’t watching television at all and he seemed to have a mad look on his face. He looked at Jack, “What is this? Your sixth one?!”

“What are you talking about?” Jack answered like he didn’t know, but he most surely did.

“I’m talking about this!” he said as he held up the yellow piece of paper.

“Oh! That. Look, I’m sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“That’s what you said last time!" his dad shouted, “50 in a 30, you know better, and a red light on top of that.”

“I’m sorry it won’t happen again.” Jack replied

“You bet it won’t. You are grounded from the car indefinitely!”

“What?! C’mon I need it. How will I get to school?!”

“You’ll find a way.”

“You’re being stupid!”

“Watch it!”

“Well you are.” Jack slammed the door and walked out of the house and yelled “Asshole” as he started jogging around the block to let off some steam. After he finished his run, he decided he was wrong and went to apologize. He walked up to the door and opened it gently. He was just about to promise his dad that he would not get another ticket when he noticed there was note on the television. It read, “Dad had chest pains. I took him to the hospital.” Signed "Mom." Jack reached for his keys and ran out the door. He jumped into his car and started it quickly. He pulled out like he was in a drag race. All he could think was that it was his fault.

* * * *

Jack tried again to stop what was coming. He clicked on the radio again hoping to erase what had happened. His dad had died that day. He wiped a tear from his face. He had managed to block it out for ten years. He had managed not to think of him for ten years. Then Jack realized that maybe that was the problem. Maybe he needed to start thinking of him again. He loved his dad. He loved his burly laugh, his sense of humor, his character, and his genuine personality. This was a time to change perspective. A ticket to clarity.

© David Iribarne