The car horn had been going off and on for days. Intermittent without external stimulus. Neighbors called the police who tracked down the owner and knocked on the door.
“Is this your vehicle doing the honking?”
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been meaning to fix it.”
“You need to fix it now. Getting lots of complaints.”
“I’m in the middle of a game. Can I fix it in a minute?”
“Now.” The officer stood with his foot blocking Jeremy’s door. His mirror glasses shone and his Kevlar vest with endless implement-filled pockets and gear added to his already girthy torso.
“Fine. Let me save my level, get my shoes on and I’ll fix it.” Jeremy reached for his keys and a pack of gum, popping several sticks in his mouth and chewing aggressively as they approached his car. The HOA president and his cronies stood nearby with arms crossed.
Jeremy popped the hood, and pointed out the wire feeding the horn was worn bare and touching he engine block. There was enough current flowing through to activate the horn as wind and traffic rocked the car. Jeremy fixed it by packing chewed gum around the wire.
“There, see. No problem.”
“What about when the gum melts or falls off?” asked the HOA president.
“That won’t happen. It’s fixed.”
“You need to take it to a licensed mechanic and fix it correctly. Not this hillbilly solution,” the president said.
“What did you call me?”
“Nothing. But you’re disrupting the neighborhood and driving down real estate prices with this pile of junk.”
Words were exchanged and voices rose, the HOA president gesticulated and poked at Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy shoved and president tumbled backward in his Hoka walkers, tripping on the curb and landing in an undignified pile. At this point the office stepped in, drew his gun and said everyone needed to calm down.
Maybe it was because Jeremy was interrupted while playing Call of Duty or because he was feeling outnumbered or because he’d developed the lightening reflexes of a gamer putting in ten hours a day but regardless, he grabbed the gun out of the officer’s hand. Suddenly he was pointing the gun at the officer, the HOA crowd, and any random passerby. The officer immediately reached for his shoulder-mounted walkie talkie, “hand it over,” Jeremy said in his best Call of Duty voice. “And the vest and belt, slowly. And your keys.” Having seen this exchange in plenty of movies Jeremy knew exactly what to say. With the officer unarmed and his keys in hand, Jeremy decided to escape in the police car.
He sped off noticing the smell of the vehicle. Old fast-food wrappers mingled with industrial cleaner and BO. He noticed he had the officer’s cell phone and shotgun and gradually considered if he’d been rash. “What the fuck am I doing?”
“Hey man, what’s up?” a voice from the back seat called out. “Stealing a cop car. Very baller.”
“Who are you?”
“Reggie Birkquist. Nice to meet you.”
“Reggie, I don’t know what I’m doing. You better get out.”
“No way man. I want to see how this plays out.”
“Any suggestions?”
“What happened out there? I fell asleep.”
“It started with my car horn honking but escalated fast. Now I have an officer’s equipment, weapons, and car.”
“Yeah, that’s a sticky one. Give me a minute.” Jeremy kept driving around slowly, zigging and zagging in case anyone was in pursuit.
“Go to the car wash,” said Reggie. “Going through one always helps me clear my head.”
“A car wash? How the hell is that supposed to help?” asked Jeremy.
“You slip out of the car mid-way through and run away. Or change the license plates while you’re in there,” Reggie suggested.
“Where am I going to go? And they have the number of the car painted on the side. And where do I get tools and a different set of license plates?”
“Tons of stuff in the trunk of cop cars, man.”
“Screw it, I’ll try the carwash,” said Jeremy.
“Great idea,” Reggie said. The cops use the carwash on State and 34th. It’s free. They just cruise in and wait for the dry cycle to get them back on the road.”
Jeremy had to admit he felt safer once inside with the spinning brushes and soapy sprays. But he knew his time was short. He took the car out of neutral and locked the parking brake. The car jumped over the rollers as they passed under the slick tires and cars began piling up behind the police car. Horns honked in protest and an attendant mimed concern since he wasn’t sure how to order a cop to move along. Jeremy barely noticed him.
“So, what do you think?” asked Reggie. “Do we stay or do we go?”
“I don’t know. This whole thing got out of hand. I don’t do this kind of stuff. I’m a gamer. I work in a coffee shop,” Jeremy said.
“I hear ya. It’s nice here in the carwash. Feels safe. But eventually, we all have to leave the womb, one way or another,” Reggie said. Many more horns were honking and lights flashing with several attendants trying to get Jeremy’s attention. The brushes and soap guns were turned off. Jeremy sighed, putting his face in his hands.
“Would you like a suggestion?” asked Reggie.
“Sure,” Jeremy said through his fingers.
“Do you trust me?”
Jeremy dropped his hands and slowly turned to look at Reggie. “You’re zip-tied in the back of a police car Reggie. Not the best first impression.”
“But I think we’ve established a rapport. Plus, I have more experience with this sort of thing than you do.”
“True,” said Jeremy. “What do you have in mind?”
“First, flip on the lights and the siren. That will scare off all these bystanders. Then return to the scene of the crime.”
“Go back? Are you insane?” said Jeremy.
“They already know where you live and unless you’re prepared to start a life on the run, which based upon your gamer lifestyle I’m guessing you’re not, you have to go back either way. Trust me. You’re doing better than you realize.”
Jeremy sighed again and realized Reggie was right. He turned on the lights and when he hit the button for the siren he was relieved to see the angry attendants and customers jump back. He put the car in gear, turned on the windshield wipers and headed back to the cul-de-sac.
The officer and HOA board were still hovering as the officer took statements from them all. Jeremy pulled up and the board just looked at him.
“Hit the ‘whoop-whoop’ button. That’ll scare them off,” Reggie said.
Jeremy did so and everyone scattered except the officer who walked over the driver’s side and tapped on the window. Jeremy lowered it a crack, the officer made a circle with his finger and Jeremy lowered it the rest of the way. He read the name on his chest, “Officer Birkquist.”
“Wait, is Reggie you’re …”
“Hi Dad!” said Reggie.
Officer Birkquist ignored his son. “Do you have all my equipment on the seat there?”
“Yessir,” said Jeremy.
“Step out. I’ll zip tie you and put you in the back.”
Resigned, Jeremy turned off the car and stepped out. The officer applied the zip ties loosely and held the door open to the back seat. Once he put the seatbelt around Jeremy, he got in the driver’s seat and quickly drove off.
“Pretty nice be chauffeured, don’t you think?” asked Reggie, winking at Jeremy who was turning paler by the minute. “Hey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got you covered.”
Jeremy’s mind was a blank. He thought he might faint. Had he really stolen a police car? Could it all be a bad dream?” Officer Birkquist drove to a park, found a shady spot far from any other vehicles or people. He stepped out, unbuckled Jeremy and snipped his zip tie, then did the same for Reggie.
“Here’s the deal,” the officer said. “None of this happened. Well, it happened but there’s no evidence. Lucky for you the HOA grey hairs aren’t in the habit of filming every breath a cop takes.”
“What about your body cam?” Asked Jeremy.
“Dad never turns them on for stuff like HOA complaints. It’s always the same type of thing and just a waste of server space. But he still has to take the call if he’s told to.”
“Why did he arrest you?” Jeremy asked.
“Oh, he didn’t. He has me sit in the back for stuff like this so he has an excuse to leave. I don’t mind. It’s fun sometimes. Like today.” Reggie smiled.
“But you drew your gun on me. Why did you do that?”
“For show. I knew you’d be a little detached from reality since I interrupted your game. I didn’t expect you to go quite that far, but I looked up your record before I knocked on the door. As you know, you don’t have one.” Said the officer. “But when you shoved the HOA guy, who had it coming by the way, I had to make a show of it. There weren’t any bullets in the gun.”
“So that’s it? I’m free to go?”
“We’ll go have lunch and then I’ll take you home. You’re too skinny and pale, like all gamers. Let’s get something solid in you. That will take enough time so it seems like we did something to process you. I’ll drop you back home and tell the HOA president you had an allergic reaction to your new acne medicine.”