Sunday, June 6, 2010

Shit does happen in life.

It was three in the morning when I got up, had a dream that worried me if it turned out to be a reality. I bent my head, looked out at the doorway, it was still dark, 3 am. I scanned the dark spaces,  I could make out where the vase, how many steps from the sofa to the kitchen, and where should I put my hand to feel the key to the door. I laid there on my back thinking nothing in particular, with my sleepiness has gone, I my left hand felt my face, moved to my stomach and thigh, 'Good, the pain has subside.'

That was enough reason to smile and to get myself back to snoozeland.

10 am. We were on the front seat. My housemate was driving through the small paved road between the rice fields and small one-story. Adam was surprisingly cozily nested on my lap, busied himself licking my fingers. Things were fine.

Then there was a big loud crash.

The car slowed its pace, I looked to the right side. Fuck.

'Pull over, please,' I said to my housemate, stared hard at the broken rear side mirror, 'Dude,' I said, emphasized on the D, looked at him, 'please, pull over the car.'

I missed the whole accident. My eyes had been fixed to the dog, tried to distract him from his confused and bored self

The other car turned right and drove to our way.

I was thinking it was their fault.

A man in his mid 40es walked out of the silver car, he put on something that either reporter or police used, all-black clothes. Rubbing Adam's head, I stood between the cars, ignored the light traffic we caused, looked at him while avoiding the  glaring sun.

My friend handshaked him, something I did not expected to take place. He even smiled and said sorry, then I know what really happened. I felt weak, 'this cant be happening,' I said to myself. The right rear side mirror of his car is smashed as well.

He started blurted out the so-called accusation, his fingers played in the air, articulated his well-spoken intimidation.  By now, he asked for my mate's driver license, playing a police role. I let him finish his speak, then asked my friend, who, by now seemed so lost in words and occasionally ran his gaze at me, helpless. He deliberated rather weak argument and I could see this thing would take forever and the man eventually would demand for some money, whatsoever.

He mentioned about police and shits. I grew impatient. I stepped closer to him, looked him in the eye, then threw my stare at his friend who, by now, bent out his head out of the front seat of his car, 'let's finish this in the police office,' he said, looked at me.

We started bargaining. And that was not funny at all and the only way to get them out of our sorry asses was to shut their damn angry mouth with settling-down money.

'You shouldn't have done that,' my friend said. I smiled at him, 'Is there any other option?' I dont want to put him into total self-hatred or whatever, 'Shit happens in life. This is one of them,' I smiled and turned up the radio volume, returned my hands caressing Adam.