" . . . I can't believe dad listens to this shit!"
She reached over, ejected the CD and looked at it briefly.
"Golden Oldies?? Hate to break it to ya dad, but Elvis is dead."
With a quick flip of her wrist, she flung the CD out of the window of the moving vehicle. She looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the shiny disc tumble briefly in mid-air before sliding to a stop in the center of the dirt road behind her.
"I'll just tell him I lost it." She said with a smile. It was Saturday, and Sarafina was having fun. It was a beautiful day outside and her father had given in to her request to take the car for a drive. She didn't yet have her driver's license and she pleaded with him that she needed the experience. He relented, but only if she would stick to the back roads and drive safely. She had promised and was sticking to it . . . somewhat. She had criss-crossed some un-named county road several times in the past few hours, kicking up clouds of dust behind her. She left the windows open because she liked the way the wind made her long black hair swirl around her head. She looked at herself in the rearview mirror and smiled. "Today is gonna be great." She said. She held the wheel with her knees, ran her fingers through her hair with one hand, and fumbled with the radio dials with the other. As she searched for some suitable music, she quickly passed by and didn't take notice of a particularly dense clump of bushes on the side of the road.
* * *
Officer James R. Clark held the folded People Magazine with one hand, and moved the half meatball sub to his mouth with the other hand. He was looking at paparazzi photos of the latest pop princess singing sensation and he liked what he saw. The young singer was lounging by some hotel pool, oblivious to the fact that some photographer with a high-powered camera was spying on her. The pictures showed her in several different positions. On her back, laying face down, up on her elbows. Her thin white bikini did little to hide her body, and it didn't take much for him to imagine her completely naked. One picture especially drew his attention. The young singer was on her back, raised up on her elbows and had her head thrown back with her eyes closed. To Officer Clark, she looked to be in the throws of an orgasm, and this excited him. He briefly wondered if her breasts were fake, and then he realized that it didn't matter, he just wanted to touch them. Fake or not.
The sub was very good on this day. And that made the magazine even more enjoyable. He had taken it from the Subway where he had purchased his lunch, like he did every day. 12-inch, Meatball, grated cheese, plain chips, and a diet coke. The same lunch from the same place every day for the 4 years he had been on the job. Nothing much happens in Whiteville, Tennessee. Which was double-edged for a young Officer. You were guaranteed not to be shot or killed on the job, but you were also guaranteed to be bored to death. There was always a side to Officer Clark, 'Jim Bob' as his friends called him, that wanted action. He wanted to be in on drug busts, chase down speeders, go on late-night stake outs and bust bad guys like he had seen countless times on tv and in movies. In 4 years, the most excitement he had on the job was busting a meth lab on county rd 415 back in April of the previous year. He rode that glory for a long time, telling anyone who would listen about how he crept around the house with his service revolver drawn, and saw the 'perps' in the open garage mixing up the illegal drugs. Every time he told the story, he would add a few new embellishments. Maybe a description of how fast his heart was beating, or how unusually warm it was that spring day, but in the end, it was always the same. He single-handedly cuffed 2 male and 1 female felons and charged them with illegally manufacturing a controlled substance.
He took another bite of his sub, getting an entire meatball this time, and chewed it while still staring at the magazine. He was aroused, and he didn't care who knew it. He was, after all, in his favorite spot, behind a clump of bushes on a lonely dirt road. There were no calls on the radio, there were NEVER any calls on the radio, and Jim Bob was relaxing and taking it easy. He thought briefly about masturbating to relieve some of his 'tension', but decided against it. "Maybe I'll save it for later." he thought.
He was hoping for more pictures, and just as he was about to turn the page, he heard a car in the distance, approaching fast. Sometimes, the local high school kids zoomed up and down this back road, and as long as it wasn't recklessly fast, Jim Bob would let it go. But this one sounded faster than any he had seen or heard so far. He tossed the remainder of his sub out of the open window and put the magazine aside. He reached for the radar gun as the car zoomed past leaving clouds of dust in its wake. He didn't need to clock it with the radar gun. He could tell from experience that however fast the car was going, it was TOO fast for this dirt road . . . too fast for ANY road.
The newest patrol fleet the Hardeman County Sheriff's Department were 4-wheel drive SUV's built especially for stability on unpaved areas and dirt roads. They worked equally as well on highways and city streets. He flipped the siren, hit the lights, and put the SUV into gear. As he pulled out from his well-concealed hiding spot, he noticed that the speeding car was at least a half a mile ahead of him.
"This guy must be drunk!" he thought. There could be no other excuse for driving so fast. Clark slammed his foot on the accelerator and the SUV shot forward, automatically shifting through 4 gears and climbing past 90 miles per hour. The speeding car didn't slow down at all. The driver didn't even seem to care that he was being chased.
As he got closer, he could see through the dust clouds . . . hair. Long black hair being blown about inside the car. "The driver's a woman!?!? She must be crazy." He went even faster, closing to within ten feet of the green compact Ford. He made a mental note of the license number and briefly thought about calling for backup, but on this road, by the time they got here, whatever was about to happen would be all over.
* * *
"Holy Shit!" Sarafina screamed. She didn't notice the large black SUV closing in on her until it was nearly running her over. She fought the urge to slam on the brakes. If she had, surely it would rear end her and cause a tremendous amount of damage. "Why is it so close?" She thought to herself. In the rear view mirror, she couldn't even see the SUV's front end. She wanted to let it pass, but this road was much too narrow. She reached over and turned off the CD player. Only then could she hear the siren blaring from the open window.
"It's a cop!?" She slowly glanced down at her speedometer and gasped. It was reading above 100 miles per hour, and she was slowing down. Just then, the siren shut off and she heard a booming voice.
