The Year I Almost Drowned - By Shannon McCrimmon Page 0,3
confident that I was absolutely right in this case.
“If you’ll just step out of the car, I’d be happy to show you the stop sign and the speed limit sign,” he ordered more than asked.
I had a very bad feeling that I was about to eat crow. He backed away from the door, allowing me to get out of the car. He was very intimating and stood well-above me, blocking the shining sun from my watery eyes. He gently touched my shoulder, motioning for me to stand in the same direction as him and pointed to the sign which read in big, black bold lettering 35 MPH and then slowly moved his index finger in the direction of the large, red octagon shaped sign with white letters spelling out STOP. I looked away, embarrassed, but also a little annoyed. He didn’t have to be so arrogant about it.
I glanced in Cookie’s direction. “A closed mouth will gather no feet, Finn,” he said. “There’s not much you can do about it.” He scratched his chin and stood there watching the other officer fill out a ticket.
“Humph,” I muttered under my breath.
He tore a copy of the ticket and handed it to me. “I’ve written you a ticket for careless operations. You have thirty days to pay or contest it. You’ll find the traffic court information on the back.” He turned the ticket over and showed me. “I was letting you off easy, Miss Hemmings. You could have gotten two points on your license and a ticket for $474 dollars. As you can see,” he pointed to the amount on the ticket, “you have no points and the amount is $243. Speeding and failing to stop at a stop sign are serious infractions. Please drive more carefully. Next time, I won’t be so generous.”
I didn’t think $243 was being generous. I was about to say something but common sense prevailed. It wasn’t worth another ticket. My blood was boiling; I was fuming. I didn’t appreciate his condescension, his know-it-all attitude, and the fact that Cookie just stood there and let the whole thing unfold.
I recoiled and uttered a quick superficial, “Thanks.” It took all I had in me to say that one word.
“Thank Cookie. He asked me to be easy on you.” He strutted toward the police car.
I gave Cookie a “thanks a lot” expression and placed my license back in my purse. I wanted to crumble up the stupid ticket and throw it out on the road but decided against it. Instead, I just sat there for a long time trying to keep myself from crying. It was turning into a horrible birthday. I had only been nineteen for a few hours and already I had received an expensive ticket and was lost in the middle of god knows where with a mission to deliver a pie. The emotion of it all came over me, and the tears started to fall. I couldn’t help it.
The police car pulled up beside mine. I glanced over in its direction and saw “Mr. Pompous Pants” himself looking at me. His head was tilted and his lips were twisted in a thoughtful expression. He opened up his door, got out and walked over to me. I quickly wiped my eyes and tried to make it appear as if I hadn’t been crying, but there was no way to hide that with my pale white skin.
“Miss Hemmings, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I sniffled.
“Are you sure?”
“Well, actually, I’m not. It’s my birthday and now I have a ticket and I have to deliver this pie but I can’t find the building!” I tried not to cry but it happened anyway. I felt ridiculous for being a blubbering crying mess in front of a complete stranger who had just helped ruin my birthday.
He stooped down so that we were eye level and quietly asked, “Where are you trying to go?”
I looked at him and wiped my eyes. “3100 Tifton Drive.” I don’t know why I told him. Maybe it was his trusting face?
“I know where that is. Follow our car, we’ll get you there,” he offered.
“That’s okay.” I didn’t want to accept any favors from him.
He sighed. “There’s no sense in you driving around getting lost, just follow me.”
“I’m fine, really,” I lied. I knew my face was blemished. Every time I cried, that happened, and I hated my alabaster skin for it.
“Are we really going to do this all day?” His caramel eyes peered into mine.