The Log 7

Rex sat and watched the scene evolve in front of the van’s headlights, the voices of the three men carrying through the open driver’s side door. Jimmy ran at the officer and Double-J, the older man’s voice cutting through the snow and wind as he pointed at Double-J, Get back in that damn TRUCK!

The short teen threw his arms up angrily, his words inaudible but his intention clear.

I said get BACK in that truck! The officer had been reduced to a befuddled spectator, his eyes darting between Jimmy and Double-J. The law called you to done do a job, so DO IT! Jimmy pounced on top of the log that had fallen across the road, his right index finger jabbing at Double-J. I got no more time for this foolishness, Johnson! I need to get your friend home, and then I need to get my own self home, and the only thing that’s keeping me from doing that is this DAMN LOG. The van’s headlights illuminated the silhouette of Jimmy’s long, slender frame as it extended into the night sky. You the only one holding us up from getting to where we need to be, so if you don’t mind, why don’t you come do what you’re SUPPOSED to be doing?

Double-J turned his head and spat. Sitting in the van, Rex held his breath, as the sound of a siren drifted in from town. Then Double-J walked angrily back to the tow truck, as the siren faded and went silent. Jimmy jumped down from the log, the hint of a satisfied smile visible in the van’s headlights.


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