Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a
55 mph zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught
so often?
When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only
partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe
some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror.
The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from
Church?
Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming
ticket. A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened
to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy
he was about to play golf with tomorrow.
Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man
he'd never seen in uniform.
"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."
"Hello, Jack." No smile.
"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Bob seemed uncertain. Good. "I've seen some long days at the office lately.
I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit -- just this once."
Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast
beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in the precinct."
Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.
"What'd you clock me at?"
"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"
"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely
nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.
"Please, Jack, in the car."
Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming
it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window.
The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked
for a driver's license?
Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat
near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There
was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two
inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.
"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice. Bob returned
to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror.
Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?
Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket.
Jack began to read:
"Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed
by a car. You guessed it -- a speeding driver. A fine and three months
in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of
them. I had only one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before
I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man.
A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again.
Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack. My son is all I have left.
Bob."
Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the
road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too,
pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging
a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.
- Author Unknown -
Copyright (c) by Rusti since 2002
All Rights Reserved
Please sign my Guestbook before your leave.
I'd love to know that you stopped by.
Don't look for inspiration . BE the inspiration!