Jack
took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in
a 55 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 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." 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 our 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 only had 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.
Life
is precious. Handle with care.
Remember,
cars are not the only things recalled by their maker.
|
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Soldiers Cross
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