Paddy Wagon

Sometimes, when I leave the windows open, I wake up with a slight chill, pulling at my covers. I try to go to sleep with the covers already on, though, so I don't wake up. But, sometimes I can't help it, especially in the middle of summer, when the heat just lasts on through the moonshine, and I feel like tomato soup.

I say all that to say that I'm not accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night hugging myself. Why do they call it a "straight jacket" anyway. It doesn't keep anything straight.
The two men were named Ajax and Phil. Nice guys. We probably could have been friends if it weren't for the fact that they were carrying me from my apartment into the back of the lorry. Lorry. I love the names the Brits give things. Bangers and mash. Tosser. Kip. Dog's bollocks.

Ajax and Phil looked at me funny as they passed me into the lorry. I guessed I must be crazy. Why else would I be walked out of bed and into the back of a paddy wagon (that's another British term)? Something was off, so I tried my best to tell them I wasn't the one they were looking for. But, Ajax held up a photocopy of my license.

"Man does this guy ever shut up?" Phil said. "He hasn't stopped talking since we got here."

I didn't know what he was talking about. I don't think I've said a single word. Phil must be the quiet guy, you know the one. He's the intimidator. He's there to muscle people around and it's easy to see why. He stood over 6 feet, packed on with muscle. His shoulders were as big as my face. And to top it all off-

"Jaysus," Ajax says. Must be religious. I can see that about him. He does wear a crucifix around his neck and I bet he has a tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his arm or leg or ribs.
"I don't." He says, as if he's reading my mind. Perhaps he should be the one in the straight jacket.

They snaked their ways, not snake, they were far too purposeful, and I'd hate to call them-

"God, shut up, dude! I can't hear myself think with you rambling like that," Ajax shouted at me from behind the steering wheel.

I got myself comfortable on the bench in the back of the lorry. Maybe this could be a welcome vacation. That's about the time I felt Phil's hands, warm like I thought they would be, clamp around my mouth. Hrfruh srf strruph. Thfhru nurhdurh in mrh arrmh. Oerch! Get..t...i.n...g....    s.....l........e..............e...................p.........


Popular posts from this blog

The Light of Amorth (working title)

Parenting: An Idea

Aren't We All, Cont'd