You Are Here(28)
Author: Jennifer E. Smith

But instead the cop looked up, twisting his mouth into a frown. “Son, I’d like to see you take nine steps along that line right there,” he said. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

Peter stared at the faded white line that ran beside the metal median of the highway, then looked back at the policeman. “Um, sure.”

“Wonderful,” he said, nodding as if by answering, Peter had just correctly completed the first stage of the test. “And then I’d like you to turn on one foot and walk right back, okay?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and instead turned to begin the walk. His face was burning as he held his hands out unsteadily at his sides, trying not to look at Emma, who was still sitting inside the car. He squared his shoulders and set a foot down on the line just beside a ladybug, which scurried away and disappeared onto the other side of the highway. He toyed briefly with the idea of just turning himself in—rather than going through this particular kind of humiliation—but forced himself to thrust his arms out, place his heel in front of his toe, and begin to walk. At the end of the nine steps, he spun on one leg like a graceless flamingo, then made his way quickly back to the car.

“Fine,” the officer said, looking unmistakably disappointed.

“I don’t drink, sir.”

“You’re sixteen,” he said, as if that meant something. “Anyway, you were driving pretty haphazardly.”

“The car’s old,” Peter said miserably. “It can be sort of … tricky.”

Officer Hurt looked unmoved by this. “Tricky?”

Peter watched as he began a slow circle of the car, considering it with an appraising eye and making little grunting noises here and there, his boots clicking on the pavement. Even if Peter himself weren’t flagged on some kind of police network, he was sure the car must be, and his mouth went chalky as he waited for the verdict.

“And the dog?”

Peter stifled the urge to groan. Of course, he thought; of course we’d dodge everything else and get caught because of a stupid stray dog.

The back window was open a crack, and they could see the dog’s black nose snuffling along its edges as he twisted his head to get a better whiff of the world outside. After a moment, he set about licking at the window, his great pink tongue covering every inch of glass as if it were a giant ice cream cone.

“It’s yours?”

Peter hesitated, glancing at the car, where Emma was nodding through the window. “Yes, sir?” he said, unable to help it from emerging as a question.

The cop peered into the car once more. “He’s got no collar or tags.”

“No, sir,” Peter agreed with a sigh.

Suddenly, Emma was out of the car too. She let the door hang open as she jogged around to the other side, her flip-flops slapping against the pavement.

“Miss, you can’t just …,” the officer began rather futilely. “Please get back in the—”

But Emma had already sprung into action. “It’s a funny story,” she was saying, half laughing at the sheer comedy of it all, and Peter struggled to imitate her, attempting to arrange his mouth in a way that might suggest he was also carefree and endlessly amused.

Officer Hurt chewed on the end of his pen and waited for Emma to continue.

“Well, we’ve been driving a convertible, right?” she said, motioning to the blue car, where the dog was now pacing the small confines of the backseat. “And it’s been hot, so we usually keep the top down. I mean, you know how it is in the summer.” Peter looked on, mortified, as she patted the now dumbfounded policeman on the arm. “So we got to a stoplight yesterday morning, and he decided to jump right out of the car—the dog, not Peter,” she clarified. “Anyway, we took him to the vet, just to be sure he was fine, because he had an accident as a puppy, which is why he only has three legs in the first place.” Here she lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning in toward Officer Hurt. “If you’ve got a three-legged dog, you need to be very careful about other injuries in case anything happens to another leg, you know?”

The cop just barely managed a nod.

“We had to take his collar off at the vet so that he could examine him properly,” Emma continued, unfazed. “And it wasn’t until we left again that we realized it, and by then we were a hundred miles away.” She rocked back on her heels with a satisfied smile. “We’re on our way to visit my grandparents in DC, and we don’t want to be late for dinner. So we’ll have to get him a new collar once we get there.”

“Uh, yeah,” Officer Hurt said, once Emma had finally fallen silent. “Yeah, just … be sure that you do. And tags, too.”

“Of course, Officer,” Emma said with an overly bright smile. “We really appreciate the reminder.”

Peter thought this last part was a bit over the top, but Officer Hurt flushed at the show of gratitude and began backpedaling toward his car.

“Well, then,” he said, bobbing his head. “Drive safely, okay?”

“Uh, my license?” Peter asked, and felt a rush of relief once the little piece of plastic was back in his own hands. They stood and watched as Officer Hurt sank back down into the driver’s seat of the police car, lifted his hand in a wave, and peeled back out onto the highway.

Emma turned to Peter with a triumphant grin. “Not bad, huh?”

“I can’t believe he bought that,” Peter said, shaking his head as they walked back over to the convertible.

She shrugged, sinking back down into her seat. “He wouldn’t have cared about the dog, anyway. I mean, who gets busted for something like that?” she said, pushing the dog’s nose away as he attempted to lick her ear. “But you were acting so fidgety and nervous about the car thing, it would’ve been a shame to let something as stupid as giving a ride to a stray dog be the thing to get us in trouble.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Peter couldn’t help asking as he pulled the car back onto the road, his hands firmly on the wheel as he navigated cautiously down the exact center of the slow lane. “Giving him a ride?”

“I don’t know what we’re doing with any of this, really.”

Peter gave a humorless little laugh. “That’s always good to hear.”

“Yeah, well, things like this always work out in the end.”

“Do they?” he asked doubtfully, still shaken, but Emma only grinned at him.