When Adam needs an Eve

I was driving with Kiara (my daughter) when we were pulled over by a police officer. This is what happened.

I stop behind the three other cars lined up along the side of the road. The rest of the traffic zooms by. I can imagine the drivers glancing over in sympathy and guilty relief. Sympathy, because everyone knows what’s about to happen. Relief, because they aren’t the ones being pulled over.

The young police officer strolls up. “Good afternoon, Madam.”

“Good afternoon, indeed, sir.”

He asks for my driver’s license and then performs a leisurely check of my vehicle before reappearing at Kiara’s window. “You know you’re right back brake light isn’t working.”

“No, I didn’t. Are you sure? The car was just serviced a few weeks ago.”

He shrugs and taps my driver’s license against his open palm. It’s a suggestive gesture indicating what I need to do to clear up the situation. “I just checked. It’s not working. Your daughter can come with me to verify.”

Kiara is wide-eyed and chewing a nail. She’s not jumping on the whole verification idea. I send her out anyway and press on the brake.

A moment later, she slides back into her seat. “I think he’s right. I only saw the left light come on.”

The police officer is beaming. He’s vindicated. Probably inhaling the scent of money. He’s not a bad guy. But his paycheck doesn’t come close to covering life’s basic necessities. And to be fair, he’s right. My back brake light isn’t working.

I stare at him, my brain churning. “How did you know my back light wasn’t working before you pulled me over? I was driving toward you. You couldn’t have seen it.”

His smile widens. “That’s why I did the check. I saw it when I went around.”

I still don’t believe it. I tell Kiara to sit in the driver seat and press on the brake pedal. Meanwhile, I’m calling my husband to tell him our predicament. Who knows when we’re going to be home now. 

“Press the brake, Kiara.”

Yup. Sure enough. Right brake light is off.

I scratch my head. “This is most peculiar, sir. I just had the car serviced.”

He shrugs almost sympathetically. “The light bulb can blow any time. But I have to take you to the police station to ticket you.”

“No. You really don’t. I’m going to get it fixed.”

“Sure, but I still have to give you a ticket.”

“Fine. But first I have to call the security department at —- Shopping Center.”

His eyebrows go up at the mention of the shopping center a block away. “You work there?”

“My uncle does. He’s the manager there.”

“Oh, you mean Hank!”

“Yes, I do.”

“Hank’s a very good friend of ours. We know him.”

“What a coincidence. So do I.”

“Okay.” He hands me back my driver’s license. “Maybe you can give me something for lunch. Because I’m your …”

“Brother?”

“Yes! I’m your brother.”

“I’ll give you something even better, sir. A prayer. I’ll say a prayer for you.” I reach out to shake his hand.

“And a prayer is going to change my life?”

“This one will. What’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Adam? As in Adam and Eve?”

“Yes, and I’m looking for my Eve.”

“Then I’m going to say prayers that you find your Eve.”

He laughs, almost drowning out Kiara’s guffaws as she records part of the conversation on Snapchat.

Meanwhile, a motorcycle trundles past us. It’s a cheap, broken down, Chinese model. On a good day, it may reach speeds of 30 km/hour … going downhill.

Today is not a good day.

The driver is transporting two passengers which is precisely two passengers too many for the overburdened motorcycle. Neither of the passengers are wearing a helmet. A police officer — not Adam who is still chatting with me about his Eve — steps into the middle of the lane. He holds up a hand in the classic Stop gesture, then waves at the motorcycle to pull over.

The driver decides he’s going to ignore the summons and zoom past the police checkpoint. Except he’s not zooming. The motorcycle is puttering along at maybe 5 km/hour. How he thinks he’s going to actually avoid capture at that speed is beyond me.

The police officer isn’t impressed by this fragrant disregard for his authority. He grabs the handlebars and wrestles the defeated motorcycle to the ground. Another police officer tackles the driver. Together, the officers shepherd the two passengers and the driver to the side of the road.

God help them.

Kiara is in hysterics, barely able to breathe she’s laughing so hard.

I reassure Adam he’ll find his Eve.

“Okay. You say a prayer for my Eve.”

“Sure will. Have a great day.”

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