This story is a continuation of the story carpool lane. To
read the beginning of the story click on the link for “Carpool Lane” on the
right side of this site, or scroll down to see the story. Thanks for reading!
My alarm clock jolted me out of bed at 6:00 am. It was cold
and still black as night outside. I couldn’t help but think of how fortunate I
was for the discovery of the light bulb; the genius invention that made man
independent of the sun. I rolled over in bed and contemplated the scenario I
would face later that day. How could I possibly avoid the carpool lane now? I
had tasted speed and knew exactly what it tasted like. I concluded to take the
only plausible course of action that morning; I called in sick. The only thing
that could be better than illegally driving in the carpool lane was to avoid
the commute altogether. Besides, if my package was on schedule, it should have
been arriving that same day.
The mailman in our neighborhood usually comes in the late
afternoon. Oddly enough, knowing his schedule didn’t help my impatience
throughout the day. I paced anxiously through the house. Every time a car drove
by or a door slammed I flew to the window to see if my package had arrived.
Each time I met with disappointment. The sounds that had sent me flying to the
window were just something like Judy, the neighborhood snoop across the street;
or Russell, the guy next door who was perpetually recovering from an
appendectomy.
I grew more anxious as the day went on; 3:00 pm came and
went. 3:30. 4:00. 4:30. I sat and watched the digital clock on my microwave;
each minute that passed brought a sudden flash and then the far right digit
would increase one number. This process repeated itself until the digit hit
nine, and then it would start all over again at zero. My anxiety was making me
crazy. The sound of the door bell snapped me out of my trance. I ran to the
door, the whole while praying it wasn’t nosey Judy just stopping by to be neighborly.
I opened the door to see a pair of blue shorts and a
matching hat. The mailman was trying to steady himself as he held a large, awkward
looking box. “This one wouldn’t fit in the box”, he yelled at me with a smile.
I swung the door wide open and helped him set the box just inside our doorway.
He stepped back outside; I never looked up or said a word as I closed the door
behind him.
I stood in my living room, smiling down at the box; the contents
of which were the answer to my dilemma with the carpool lane. As of that day, I
knew that all of my worries about traffic violations and high-speed chases were
now a thing of the past.
My wife came around
the corner and began questioning me as soon as she saw that a package had
arrived. “What is that?” she asked. “Did you order that?” Without as much as a
nod in response, I kneeled next to the box and began tearing at the tape on the
seams. After what seemed to be much more time than it should take to open a
package we were able to gaze into the box. I reached into the sea of packing
peanuts and felt a hard plastic surface. When I was able to get a good grip I
attempted to the lift the contents out of the box. My wife rushed to help by holding
the box to the floor. Packing peanuts went everywhere as we struggled to remove
the contents. Finally it was free and we were able to see what I had waited for
so anxiously, the solution to the difficult situation I had been wrestling with;
a full sized, male mannequin.
“What is that for?” my wife gaffed, as she began to laugh. “What
are you gonna do with that?” I knew exactly what I was going to do with it and
it wouldn’t take me long to put it together either. I ran down the hall to our
bedroom and grabbed an old Chicago Bulls t-shirt I had bought at a garage sale.
With the t-shirt in hand, I ran to the garage to find the box where we kept our
Halloween gear. A few minutes later I returned to the living room where my wife
was waiting with a confused look on her face. She had come to the realization
that she wasn’t going to get any information out of me until I was done with
the task at hand, so she stood quietly to the side and watched me dress the
mannequin.
I pulled the Bulls t-shirt over the mannequin’s arms and
shoulders, and then I positioned a black, mullet wig and a brown coca-cola hat,
that I had found in the Halloween gear in the garage, on the mannequin’s head.
It was coming to life, but I knew it needed something more. I walked to the
kitchen and opened a drawer in the hutch that sat in the corner. In the drawer
was a pair of silver, aviator sunglasses; they fit perfectly on the mannequin’s
head.
I set the mannequin, now dressed from the waste up, on the
couch in the living room. Its legs bent easily at the waste and again at the
knees, allowing it to sit on the couch with no support. “This”, I said “is the
answer I have been looking for. It’s gonna cut my commute down by 30 minutes a
day, and I won’t have to worry about being pulled over either”.
My wife did not look impressed. “What about its legs?” she
asked. “They’re completely naked. You’re going to look like a creep driving
around with a half naked mannequin in your car.” She was making a valid point,
but I didn’t care. “It will be just fine” I said. “Nobody is going to see the
legs, and I’ll be able to drive in the carpool lane all I want.” She looked me
dead in the eyes and exhaled slowly, “You know what?” she said. “You’re an
idiot.”
The next morning, under the cover of dark, I slipped the
mannequin into the passenger seat of my car. I was relieved to see that the
seat belt held it tight against the seat, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it
shifting during the drive. I took the I-17 north until it intersected with the
101, this was the moment of truth; my first time in the carpool lane with my
new companion. It was a smooth transition into the carpool lane. There was no
worrying about watching my rearview mirrors or making sure I knew which cars
were around me; and there was no worrying about finding a buffer. I sped down
the freeway with ease and comfort. To my right I could see the non-carpoolers
as they struggled to switch from lane to lane in a feeble attempt to save a few
minutes. I laughed to myself; didn’t they know that there is no fast lane?
Once at work, I breathed a sigh of relief. The maiden voyage
had been a success and there was nowhere to go but up. I leaned over to the
passenger seat and bent the mannequin forward at the hips. His entire upper
body was able to lay flat across his legs and knees. I reached into the back
seat and grabbed a small blanket to spread over the mannequin. He was pretty well concealed; this would
protect me from annoying inquiries from coworkers. Of course having the
mannequin in my car meant I could never drive to lunch with any of my coworkers
either, but I didn’t consider that a huge loss. I smiled as I realized that I had
attained a permanent feeling of freedom; the same feeling that I had feared
would never last, only one week before. I walked with a skip in my step as I
entered the building.
That day at work could not have been any more normal. There
were no surprises, no new assignments, and no difficult interactions. I sat at
my desk and worked at my regular tasks, the whole time not really thinking much
about the drive home. I almost forgot about the passenger waiting in my car,
until I was walking toward the parking lot. The clouds above me were forming into
a thick pattern all across the sky. The sun broke through only occasionally in
long bright beams. The clouds themselves were turning into a dark orange color,
almost like the sky was combusting into a giant fireball. It gave me an ominous
feeling.
I entered the freeway and quickly merged left to the carpool
lane. The ominous feeling I had experienced made me think that I was pushing my
luck, so I committed to driving no more than the speed limit despite being in a
lane that would allow me to travel much faster. The cars and their drivers to
the right of me were just blurs. I no longer looked down on them or pitied
them; in fact at that point they meant nothing to me. I was in a trance and not
really thinking of anything, when I heard a sound that made my heart sink. A
quick look in the review mirror confirmed my fear; a highway patrol car was
right behind me, and it expected me to pull over.
To be continued…
