Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice by Janet McNulty

highway. Time to head home and to bed. I kept my speed under the limit and made certain not to swerve. I only had the one shot, but I didn’t want to get pulled over, regardless. Unfortunately, life had another plan.
    Flashing red and blue lights appeared in my rear view mirror. Oh no, I thought. A siren sounded, telling me that I was the one the cop was after. Mumbling a few choice words under my breath, I pulled to the side of the road.
    “Quick!” said Rachel. “Eat the onion.”
    “What?” I said.
    Rachel shoved the onion in my mouth, forcing me to take a bite out of it. I practically choked as I chewed and swallowed it. Rachel tossed the onion under the seat.
    A tap sounded on my window. I rolled it down. “May I help you, officer?” I asked.
    The patrolman pulled back a bit after getting a whiff of my onion breath. Did anyone really think eating an onion would fool the cops?
    Another officer appeared at the passenger side window. He shined a light inside. A feeling of dread encompassed me.
    “Ma’am, you mind telling me where you are headed?” said the officer by my window.
    “Home,” I replied. “Don’t you want my license and registration?” I thought their manner was odd. Usually, when you get a ticket they asked to see your registration, insurance, and license.
    “Please step out of the car,” said the cop.
    “Why?” I asked.
    “Ma’am, please step out of the car,” repeated the officer.
    I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car. “Mind telling me what is going on?” I know you shouldn’t get confrontational with a patrolman, but something didn’t seem right.
    “Put your hands on the car,” said the officer.
    “Look,” I said, “I have a right to know what is going on and why you pulled me over.”
    “Is this your car?” asked the second officer.
    “Yes,” I replied.
    “You do realize that it was reported stolen,” said the first cop.
    “That’s impossible,” I said. “It’s my car and I never reported it stolen.”
    “That remains to be seen,” said the first officer.
    “Look,” I said, “My ID is in the car. The registration and proof of insurance is in the glove compartment. I can prove to you that this is my car.”
    “Put your hands on the hood of the car,” said the first officer.
    “Ma’am,” said the second cop, “please put your hands on the car, or we’ll have to add resisting arrest.”
    Reluctantly, I put my hands on the car and allowed the officers to handcuff me. Before I knew it, they led me to the patrol car and stuck me in the back. Now I was being arrested for stealing my own car. Something wasn’t right and I knew who was responsible for my car being reported stolen.
    The officer that had been at my window opened the door to get in. His hat flew off his head and rolled down the road. I knew Rachel had done it. She laughed uncontrollably.
    I watched as the guy walked over to pick up his hat. Rachel kicked it and sent it down the road again. Despite my glum mood, I did find it funny.
    “Come on!” yelled the second officer,.“Just grab your hat and let’s go.”
    Rachel tired of her fun and allowed the man to get his hat. He got in the car and we were off just as another patrol car showed up with a tow truck.
    The ride to the police station went quickly. I spent the time wondering what I was going to do. Rachel appeared next to me. “Rachel,” I whispered, hoping the cops didn’t hear me, “I need you to go back to the apartment. Now isn’t the time to be talking to a ghost.”
    She agreed and vanished.
    The car stopped at the station. One of the officers opened the door to the back and hauled me out. There was no way I’d get out by myself with my hands behind my back. The officer placed his hand around my arm and guided me into the building. The station suddenly lost all its charm now that I was being brought in on suspicion of being a car thief.
    The officer led me through the lobby. I filled out paperwork and they took my prints.