gilligan drove at a pace slower than the posted limit; his eyes were focused on the road. he fumbled at the radio controls and a drop of sweat near his left temple marked the discipline and concentration here-employed. he managed the dial into a position that the broadcast flowed through his speakers, but kept the levels just enough so as to not be distracted by the grating lack of noise. a minute or two would go by and he would again long for the silence of desolation and once more blindly reach out to affect the state of audio affairs, cringing for a moment at the sound caused by the controls slipping, at first, in the wrong direction before darting into abrupt silence; though the vibration lingered, and gilligan let his window a crack. sweat alternately clung to him and rolled off him, and the cool air both pierced and solaced him the way an abusive mother kisses her child.
gilligan took the approaching turn slowly and let the wheel slip awkwardly through his hands, the wheel catching on his skin and jerking the car around the corner. there was gilligan’s house; he drove passed, even speeding up a little as he went. the sweat was back and the underside of his legs felt awkward against the damp seat and his sweaty mesh shorts. he scratched at them, but it brought no relief; it was as to laying in the grass without a shirt. thinking of this, gilligan’s back began to itch, and right at that spot in the center that is next to impossible to reach.
he snapped back into it in time to realize he had made it passed the house, and he was approaching diller street. he came to an uneasy stop; remembered to flash his signal, if not a little too late, and made the turn. gilligan turned fully into the street and was startled to see a police cruiser parked in the middle of the street as if to create a roadblock. there was a woman standing next to a police officer outside the car. gilligan slowed his approach and his tight jaw twitched and pulled at his face. should he turn the car around and speed off? should he surrender?
gilligan grasped the door handle and gave the engine a final rev to slightly bump up his cruising speed. his eyes fixated on the two figures perched at the police cruiser, and then he did something (i’m sure, at least) that neither of them expected. the door flew open and gilligan jumped out and ran. the car continued along its inertiatic path, pummeling the cruiser as the officer and woman jumped out of the way. the woman took off after gilligan.
gilligan was small and quick, but his mother had much longer legs and was quite agile herself, allowing her to easily catch up with him. she grabbed him just as the police officer caught up with them. gilligan’s mother raised a fist to her son, but stopped to look back at the officer. they made eye contact and a wave of understanding passed between them. the officer slowly turned and looked the other way; as gilligan’s mother beat the shit out of her son right there on their neighbor’s lawn. “give me the taser.” the officer turned around, a mild look of fleeting horror on his face, and his eyes met the mothers again. “give me the taser,” she insisted again with her hand out. the policeman’s conscience almost got the better of him, but he allowed his hand to slip to his side while he unlatched the taser and handed it to the frantic woman. he turned his back again and just as he heard gilligan plea, “don’t tase me bro”, and an electrical charge followed by a piercing scream, the officer was able to reconcile what he had allowed knowing that seven year olds shouldn’t be out driving the family car around, even if it is their birthday.
