Unnamed Journal Volume 3, Issue 2 - Page 43

Casa Diablo Hot Springs. Hopefully his directions would be good enough to deliver Nehra to her destination. He couldn’t decide if he should drive faster or slow down. Unable to make a decision, Ulysses decided to keep his current pace. He blew past a billboard, and then cursed as he saw the silhouette of a patrol car behind it. The patrol car’s headlights came on followed by the reds and blues as it pulled out in pursuit. “Shit,” Ulysses said. Nehra looked up at him with an expression that was both quizzical and bemused. She muttered something that sounded like a question. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Look, I fucked up and didn’t see the cop. We’ve got to pull over now.” Ulysses signaled and pulled over. He turned off the engine and waited for the cop to start walking up. Maybe he could just peel-out onto the road after the cop got closer, he thought. Nah, nowhere to lose him. Ulysses couldn’t run or hide. He would just have to face whatever was going to happen next. The highway patrolman got out of his cruiser, flashlight held at shoulder height. He walked up to the driver side of the car. “License and registration,” said the officer. “Here’s my license. I can’t seem to find the registration.” “Well, I can give you one minute if you want look for it, son.” “All right, thanks.” Ulysses reached past Nehra for the glove box; she stared at the cop with befuddlement. As Ulysses opened the compartment, she asked him something that he couldn't understand. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know. I’ve got to try to find the registration right now.” He riffled through the glove box in a panic trying to find the registration for the rental car. Ulysses figured his evening would only get more complicated if he didn't find the registration, but after a few seconds he did.