#36: Scary Jerry

--

He finally showed and we climbed into his car. I was planning on getting that nap I had missed—not once but twice that day—while he resumed his rightful role of chauffer.

Josiah, however, had different plans.

“Aria?” he spoke, just as I was closing my eyes, having gotten into the most comfortable position I could manage.

“Mm,” I responded.

“I need you awake.”

I groaned.

“Aria.”

“Huh.”

“I need you to keep an eye out for me while I drive.”

I ignored him. If there was one thing I did not want to use my precious energy on, it was on something completely redundant. He was a big boy—he could drive all by himself just fine.

“Aria,” he said sternly, “wake up.”

“…,” I managed.

Then—“SNOT MONKEYS!”

My eyes shot open with my verbal outcry, both in response to something cold and wet trickling down my shirt.

I looked down.

The jerk had thrown water on me.

How he got it on me and only me—not his precious leather seats—is still beyond my comprehension. But he did. And I was now wide awake, part from surprise, part from anger.

“Wha, how…why?!” I sputtered, voicing my feelings.

“I,” he started slowly, pointing to himself, “need you”—here he pointed at me—“to watch out for me”—back to himself—“while I drive.” He ended by miming turning a steering wheel with his hands.

“But...but why?” I repeated, failing to see the logic in his request.

He sighed, finally understanding that he wasn’t going to get me to do anything without explaining it first.

Darn skippy, he wasn’t.

“Look, we’ve already had one run in with the cops tonight. I really don’t want to have another. And this time,” he added, “I can’t feign sleeping.”

I thought about saying how it would help me, and did I really care what happened to him? But all I wanted was to snuggle in my nice, warm, comfortable bed, and it was apparent from our lack of movement that he wasn’t driving anywhere until I agreed.

“Fine,” I consented, choosing to leave out that if we did get stopped, I would most definitely pull the sleeping card.

Karma, baby. Karma.

Looking satisfied, he started up the car.

Pulling out of the driveway, he gave me what I’m sure he thought were helpful tips.

“Okay, look out for any low lights hiding out on the sides of the road. Double check any white cars you–”

“Okay,” I cut him off, irritated. “I get it. I’ll watch.”

“Good,” he said, his own eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I really don’t want another run in with Jerry tonight…”

I was so focused on being watchful—and trying to stay awake—that I almost missed his last sentence.

“Wait,” I said. “Who’s Jerry?”

I thought I saw him tense out of the corner of my eye. Sensing a weak point, I swooped in like a hawk.

“Josiah,” I stated after he remained silent. “Who is Jerry?”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘stupid, nosy woman’.

Deciding to ignore the possible insult in favor of extracting information, I turned my full attention on him.

“Well?”

He drove on in silence.

I stared at him expectantly.

He stared at the road.

Shrugging, I crossed my arms and settled into a comfortable sleeping position.

“Fine,” I told him, “if you won't tell me, I'm going back to sleep.”

My eyes were drooping when he sighed.

“If you go back to watching out for cops, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay,” I agreed, straightening up to refocus on the passing scenery and possible lurking policemen. Or women.

Policepeople?

Whatever.

I watched for law enforcement like a good girl and patiently waited for my explanation.

After a few more moments of silence, I glanced over at him.

“So…Jerry…?” I prompted.

“So…watch the road…?” he responded.

I pointedly returned my gaze to the road.

“I am,” I confirmed. “Now talk.”

He sighed again.

“Okay,” he finally began. “Do you remember how I was telling you about all those points on my license?”

“Yes.” I nodded before narrowing my cop-watch-out eyes. “I lost precious sleep over driving your almost-illegal butt home to get said license, and I ended up getting pulled over.”

“I believe that would be ‘driving my kind, caring, helping stranded co-workers’ who fail to own properly functioning cars, almost-illegal butt home.’”

I glared at the windshield with my non-existent superhero laser beams.

Nothing happened.

“Whatever,” I replied. “Continue. Please.”

Yes, I really wanted to hear this story. Crabby and sleep-deprived though I may have been.

“As I was about to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, most if not all of the points were issued by one particular law enforcement officer.”

“Jerry?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Watch the road.”

I realized I had turned my head to blink at him, hence noticing his nod, and quickly returned to my post.

“So does he like stalk your car or something?” I inquired, genuinely curious.

I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye.

“He must,” he projected. “And lately, all my tickets have been in the same area on my way home.”

I let out a laugh.

“Stake-out stalker, much?”

Josiah let out a low laugh as well.

“Yeah. I feel so loved.”

We sat in a comfortable silence, laughing at Jerry in our heads for a few blocks.

“What does he pull you over for?” I asked.

“Oh, all sorts of things.”

I risked a quick glance at his face. He looked almost pleasantly in thought.

“Let’s see, there was that time when one of my brake lights was loose and he followed me until it cut out briefly,” he said. “And the time when I was ‘disturbing the peace’ with my system being too loud. Even though it you could barely hear it outside the car.”

I laughed again. This Jerry guy sounded almost worse than my initial impression.

“Oh, and of course,” Josiah said with a grin, “the classic one-over-the-imaginary-speed-limit citation.”

I continued laughing until the words registered.

Josiah didn’t understand the connection and he let out a laugh.

“Yes,” I said cooly. “Classic.”

He stopped laughing and turned to glance at me.

“Oh, c’mon Aria,” he began. “Don’t tell me you’re mad at me for that? How was I supposed to know he’d give you a ticket?”

“Well,” I replied, crossing my arms. “You might have given me this little explanation talk beforehand, so I could keep an eye out for cops, like we’re doing now.”

He was silent, so I continued.

“You could have also not pretended to be asleep.”

Still silent.

“And…and…”

I was running out of reasons.

“You could have done something,” I settled on, harrumphing.

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“Aria,” he said slowly in his ‘I’m addressing a small child’ voice. “If I had done anything other than pretend to be asleep”—he glanced over at me here for emphasis—“you would have not gotten away with so small a citation and so few moments of your time wasted. Trust me.”

Frustrated at the fact that he was more than likely correct, I refocused my attention to the view in front of me and was shocked to find that we were sitting in my driveway. And probably had been for a few minutes.

“Oh,” I said, involuntarily.

I heard the sound of the doors unlocking.

“Weren’t you complaining about lack of sleep or something?” Josiah asked, an obvious dismissal, albeit one lacking heat.

“Yeah,” I answered, opening the door.

Right before I closed the door, I bent my head down and said, “Thanks. I guess.”

He shrugged.

I shut the door and made my way to the house and my bed.

--