Page 80 of A Light in the Dark
I nodded. “That’s correct.”
My boss stared at the wreckage, and I joined him. In what had to count as a miracle, Joel had managed to get the driver side door open and was conversing with the driver, who felt it was a good idea to get out of the vehicle and attempt to stagger away. Joel blinked, more like an owl than a self-respecting luna moth.
The younger man had blood on his face from a cut across his forehead, although I wasn’t sure what he’d cut himself on. His windshield had shattered into a bazillion pieces, and it clung to its frame. “I’m guessing he doesn’t feel like he needs to stick around for the paramedics.”
“Or for the reckless driving charge,” my boss said, shaking his head.
Unfortunately for the driver, a cop must have beenloitering down the street, as sirens and flashing lights announced the arrival of law enforcement. An ambulance followed, and as I had no desire to dodge other vehicles, I went towards the building, standing on the sidewalk nearby.
My boss followed, and he tracked the driver, who staggered about this way and that. “I suspect we’re about to get some prime evening entertainment.”
“I’m just glad the idiot missed Joel’s SUV. I haven’t known him long, but helovesthat SUV.”
“That would be an understatement. I remember when he got it. It was custom ordered and took six months to arrive. He did the excited puppy dance in the dealership lot. Most of the flutter showed up, as he went at night to get the keys. I was a human escort, as someone needed to drive him there. My wife was one of the many luna moths loitering on the roof.”
“You all glow. You can’t hide.”
“He knew they were there. He yelled at us while waiting for his pickup window. We are insufferable worrywarts, and he is perfectly capable of picking up his baby unattended.”
I laughed at the thought of a bunch of luna moths babysitting Joel. “How did he end up leading the flutter, anyway?”
“After he founded his company, he began hiring luna moth shifters. Some were already in flutters, some weren’t, and the ones that weren’t pressured him into founding a flutter since he was the owner of the company hiring them. The ones who were already part of a flutter eventually joined his—one such flutter actually all went to him, because the leader of that flutter was tired of herding cats. And don’t let Joel trick you. We’re like a bunch of glowing cats.”
“As evidenced by the thirty-three of you who got skunked on my roses.”
“We have been asked to limit our indulgence to once a week,” my boss complained. “He’s selfish.”
The so-called selfish Joel attempted to keep the ridiculously drunk driver out of the way of cars, resulting in the driver squealing over how he was being repressed by a rich man. The cops got out of the patrol car, and the squealing turned into yelling over how it wasn’t fair that people had parked their cars in his way.
During one of the brief moments the man stopped shouting, Joel said, “He almost hit a young woman and plowed his car into parked vehicles. The woman dodged injury through vaulting over his vehicle.”
Then, to my dismay, Joel gestured in my direction.
Little amused me more than observing a drunk attempt to flee from the police. Joel stuck out his foot, caught the driver by the ankle, and dodged the man’s flailing arms as he thumped down to the asphalt. The police jumped on the fellow, and after a brief but fierce struggle, during which the driver thought it was a good idea to bite an officer, they restrained him in cuffs.
He screamed all the while about how he was being repressed. A comment or two about dumb broads too stupid to stay out of the way infuriated Joel, but Meri and Lois intervened, dragging him to where I waited with my boss.
A second cop car arrived, and after a few minutes, the new ones headed our way, whistling over the destruction. “You folks all right?”
I nodded. “The cars and the driver were the only casualties of this event, and the driver seems to be rather… lively.”
We stared, where the other pair of cops struggled with getting the screaming man to cooperate. Another ambulance showed up, and the technicians joined the fray.
I wished them well.
“What’s this about the driver almost hitting one of you ladies?”
I raised my hand. “That was me. I saw him coming, and I was near the cars, so I went over his vehicle since I had nowhere else to go. I took gymnastics until I turned eighteen. I vaulted over the vehicle to safety. I’m fine.” I stared at the wrecked vehicles. “It appears the driver was trying to spin his car, lost control, and smashed into this row of parked cars.”
When it became clear the drunk fool wasn’t going to cooperate, two of the paramedics headed our way. I endured a rapid series of questions, and the pair of men insisted on checking my feet and ankles for injury. I spent almost an hour retelling the same story ten times, having my feet wiggled this way and that, and otherwise undergoing scrutiny regarding everything I’d done from arriving at the store to the moment the cops arrived.
The idea that someone would go to a night store to buy furniture confused them for some reason.
Once they were satisfied, I gave the police my contact information.
They left us, and after a few moments of puzzlement, I stared at my boss. “Why were they so interested in why I was buying furniture? What does that have to do with a drunk driver plowing into a car?”
“I honestly have no idea why they were hassling youabout buying furniture. I also don’t understand why they felt it was relevant to the driver’s poor choices.”
