The Log 3

“Road’s closed.” The officer started backing away into the cold rainy darkness, towards the fallen log. “Turn around.”

“You try moving it?” Jimmy opened the door of the van, stepped onto the wet pavement. The officer had flinched at the sound of the open door, and now aimed the beam of his flashlight onto Jimmy’s face.

“Stay back — ”

“Now you just relax, John Law — ”

“I said STAY BACK!”

Jimmy raised his hands slowly, and stepped away from the van. Sideways, not towards the officer. “I’m just — trying to help you. I got cables — in the back — ” and took a step forward.

“There’s a tow truck, coming now.” The officer extended his flashlight forward like a lance. “Lefty’s garage. Had dispatch call them, right when I got here.” He pointed the flashlight’s beam back at the van. “I don’t need no help. You get back in that van, and you turn around and leave, NOW. You understand?”

The beam shifted back and illuminated Jimmy’s calm, frustrated face. “I hear you, John Law. But if you don’t mind, I’m thinking we’ll just wait here until that tow truck arrives.”

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