Mandatory Testing

Alan was watching the news at four in the morning, the green neon light flashing from the digital clock read out on the display of the cable box. He knew that there was nothing good happening, race relations, presidential elections, lots of change. Alan didn’t like change. From where he stood, anything that changed was a slow moving train that slowly brought him from the quiet of his countryside house to the bustle of the loud, aggressive cities. Anyone who made waves around here was considered an outcast and liability. Unpredictability could get you into trouble, or worse.

Alan swiveled himself in the adjustable chair as he heard the door handle turn and click open. He might not have heard it, save for the screen door that creaked and moaned subsequently.

“Jeremy.” He stated plainly.

“Holy shit. Dad? You scared the shit out of me!” His voice was up about two octaves, posture suddenly straighter than it had ever been before.

“Where were you?” Alan maintained the same tone, refusing to give any indication to his disposition, mood, or level of consciousness.

“Oh just got caught up with the guys. I swear, Doug’s couch is so comfy I damn passed out on the thing.”

“C’mere.”

Jeremy slowly walked over to his father, a reluctance in his step. He stopped just out of arm’s length.

Alan snorted, stood up and grabbed his son by the shirt. He lifted the cotton to his nose and breathed deeply. “You pass, this time.”

A Second Chance

Colleen slowly stepped out of the crisp, white Prius, grass folding around her thong sandals and brushing their morning dew off against the calloused underside of her feet. No one was outside tending their lawns, kids weren’t playing in yards or the street. She didn’t even hear a single dog bark. The world was colorful, but it reminded her of her hospital room. It was clean, it was quiet, it had a view, and she had a chaperone.

Dana, her sister, locked the car door with a click of the button on her keys. “Is it not the most wonderful day?”

“Sure thing.” Colleen would rather the world had felt alive, but to her it just felt like a movie set. Even the wind that blew the smells of spring against her colorless cheeks felt somehow artificial.

“The rest of the family is at work or in school, but they’ll be home by five. Do you want some lunch?” Dana opened the door to her small Cape Cod style house. The eaves were extended into rooms and a carport had been added on between the garage and the end of their driveway. Dana hadn’t parked there though.

“Whatever you have on hand is fine.” Colleen followed her sister listlessly through the front door and sat down at the table. There was a sheet of thick plastic covering the paisley table cloth from end to end.

“I’ll just be in the other room. Please don’t try anything. We love you.”

En Route

            Bridges always made Kevin squeeze the handle above the car door.  Every imperfection in the suspended black pavement made his heart skip several beats and his intestines fickle at best. With his free hand Kevin constantly tugged the touch display of his phone down, watching the wheel spin, updating the traffic report. Any longer on this stretch of woven metal death and he would have to be sick. His breakfast was meager, but enough to warrant the air sickness bag in his briefcase.

            The other men in his carpool were talkative after their twenty ounces of liquid caffeine.

            “Did you see last night’s episode of that new sitcom?”

            “Do your kids have any sports games this weekend?”

            “Happy hour?”

            For the most part the other four men occupying the car were harmless. They couldn’t strike fear into the heart of a traumatized toddler and yet their inattentiveness and aloofness about the bridge below made Kevin hate them in those eight to fifteen minutes as they crossed from New Jersey into New York.

            This time, as they passed into the lower level of the George Washington Bridge Kevin watched as the traffic crawled to a standstill. In a whirlwind of internal panic he swiped his phone downward to reload the traffic report. His face went white as whatever air he had seeped from his lungs.

            His phone read: Three car accident of the GW this morning. One lane traffic. Expect forty-five to ninety minute delays for eastbound traffic.