Chattanooga Pulse

I walked up to the parked car and tapped on the window with bare knuckles.  (I was sleeping when a tap on the window abruptly awoke me.)  The driver was startled, but he came to and rolled down the window.  (I was shocked and scared shitless, but kept it inside and rolled down the window and said, “Yes, sir?”)   He said “Yes, sir?” and I asked him if he was OK.  He said he was, but was clearly out of his mind on pills or booze or both.  (He asked if I was all right and I naturally said, “Yes”, but I had no idea where I was or how I came to be talking to this man.  God Hell, I didn’t even know what time it was.  The clock said 7:45, but judging by the sunlight it could be a.m. or p.m. and I honestly didn’t know which.  I wasn’t actually even sure where I was.  Holy Hell.)

The guy was clearly confused, and I’d be surprised if he even knew where he was.  Jail was the long answer to this, but I’d leave that up to him.  It was early and he wasn’t a problem yet.   (It felt late; it had to be a.m., I’d been out the night before, but I hadn’t had the chance to catch up yet, GOD this was confusing.  I’d just act cool, and not be a problem.  If he wanted to put me in the can, he’d already have me cuffed.)  I asked him why he was parked here on the side of the road, and he said he was too tired to drive and just felt safest if he parked.

It was crap, but reasonable crap, and that worked for me.  I hadn’t eaten yet and planned to do so if at all possible in the next hour.  (He asked what I was doing here, and just having woken up I said thought “sleepiness” was the best answer.  I think I was right.  He wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t in a hurry and I thought I had a chance here.  Good God, I still didn’t even know if it was morning or evening.  If my ass were sore, I’d swear I’d been “date raped”; Lord, I wish I were joking.)

The guy clearly couldn’t drive due to his “sleepiness”, and his short answers and readiness to cooperate were indicators that I would indeed be seeing three eggs and hash browns sometime before 9 a.m.  Whatever.  He was off the street and I wasn’t paid by the body, I was just glad I wasn’t having to fight or kick someone and wipe up blood or shit or vomit before eight in the morning.  Hell, put it that way and I think I could like this guy.  “Where do you live?” I asked.  (He asked me where I lived, and I was still scared but ecstatic.  I told him slowly, and saw him ponder this.  I told him that if it was too much bother there were people I could call, but he disregarded it.  What a nice guy; not all cops are dicks, that’s for sure.)

The drunken ass lived 15 minutes from here, but said he could call for a ride to pick him up.  I could see he was on the same page now and hadn’t put me on the spot admitting he was completely twisted from the night before.  The ride would take 30 minutes to get here, so screw it, I thought I’d just take him myself.  What a dumbass.  I wonder if he even knew how lucky he was that only breakfast and a closed mouth was keeping him from a ride to the Joint.  (He said no, he’d take me himself.  Amazing.  I love this guy.  He had me step out of the car and get in the back of his, and I did, quietly.  Blubbering was not in order, and this was clearly my situation to screw up at this point.  Easy, Trigger…easy.)

It was a quiet ride and I liked it that way.  He told me where to turn and when the turn was coming, and there was no confusion.  I actually visualized my breakfast at this point.  He needed to go to jail, but he also needed being tied to a slow tractor and dragged through a field for a while or maybe just shot in the leg, and all three options just seemed like a lot of trouble.

Goddammit, I just wanted to eat and start this day so it could end, peaceably, and the threat of him wasn’t present when I got there and wouldn’t continue after I left.  I could live with that.  And so would the City, since it cared so much about me as well… “Ha ha,” I laughed aloud.  (Somehow I knew to keep my mouth shut and not screw this up with small talk or too much gratitude.  I told him where to turn and notice before we got there, and he seemed happy with this.   Good gravy, he even laughed to himself a few times before we got there. I went from gratitude to being a bit nervous I was with him, but he was driving me home and not to a knife-filled barn so far, so it seemed safe to still be happy.  Still though…this guy wasn’t quite right.)
I
pulled up to his house and let him out with a warning.  I hadn’t done this, I told him.  I was never here.  He was stranded and I helped him out, at most.  And then I leaned in, real close, and said this was a one-time deal, and that if I ever had to do this again, I’d have him flogged and beaten before he even went to court, which was the best he could hope for.  He offered no resistance, and I left him there in his driveway.   I could taste breakfast already.  (He got me home, and once I was there, I realized he knew where I lived, and this seemed bad somehow.  He got me out of the car and uncuffed me, then said this hadn’t happened.  Then said if it did, it better not happen again.  That if it did happen again, he said the worst most awful things to me I could think of.  Jesus, waking up was scary, but this guy telling me with is dead eyes and slow voice I would…I would…it was awful.  I went inside…and saw the clock.  8 a.m., NOT p.m.  Oh, thank God…Maybe a little more sleep was in order before I went in to work.)

Breakfast was good for a Waffle House.  Maybe a nap was in order before I went back to work.  (God, what time is it?  I am HUNGRY!  Waffle House sounds good.)

When officer Alexander D. Teach is not patrolling our fair city on the heels of the criminal element, he is an occasional student at UTC, an up and coming carpenter, auto mechanic, prominent boating enthusiast, and spends his spare time volunteering for the Boehm Birth Defects Center.