Follow that Car

“Driver, follow that car”

           The taxi driver could not believe what he had just been told to do. He was just about to ask the man in the back seat whether he thought he was in some old movie, when the man who had just burst into the backseat, flashes his police id. 

           The taxi driver, who had himself seen such old movies, was kind of addicted to them actualy, squealed his tires as he took off in pursuit of the car in question.

           “We’ll catch up with him officer. Don’t you worry.”

           “I’m glad to hear that driver. This is a major criminal we’re after here. We can’t afford to let him get away scot-free.”

           “I guess you can’t tell me what he’s done.”

           “No sir, I’m not permitted to divulge such information to a civilian.”

           Meanwhile, the driver of the car being pursued hears the squealing tires and looks in the rearview mirror, and correctly assesses the situation. He is pretty sure who it is that is after him, but wonders why he has taken a taxi as a pursuit vehicle. He had to find a way of turning the situation around, the pursued becoming the pursuer.

           Without signalling he takes a sharp turn left, hoping his pursuer will not be able to make the same move in time to be able to follow him.  But the agile mind and quick reflexes of the taxi driver are an asset to the pursuer. The taxi’s tires again voice their stress. The right wheels come dangerously close to lifting off of the pavement.

           Seeing that his initial strategy failed to work, he has another plan that he hopes will bring him better luck. He slows down considerably when approaching a green light that has been on for some time. When it turns to the desired orange, he steps on the pedal and rushes across the road.

           But that plan does not work either. The taxi driver does not stop, catching the end of the orange light when the front wheels have barely touched the crossroad, doing most of the crossing with a red light on, with green-lighted drivers honking their horns. The taxi driver doesn’t think that this illegal move will affect the status of his license, as he is assisting a police officer on an arrest.

           The man being pursued knows the local roads well. There is a highway nearby. The lane that leads to the highway was only just completed a short time ago. Right beside it is the old lane, which connects with its replacement just before the highway is reached, as well as still being linked with the road that leads to the lane. So he signals early to indicate his apparent intention to go to the highway. The pursuer signals too, and turns right onto the lane. The first car then slows down considerably, and pulls a fast U-turn onto the old road, and then speeds up. The driver figures he just won the battle that will win the war. But he is wrong. The taxi driver, who once fancied being a racing car driver before he had to settle for driving taxi, makes the same move, executing it cleanly. The driver behind him almost wanted to applaud, as the U-turn was made so perfectly.

           ‘Well none of this is working. I will have to make a more desperate move. I’ll go to the dead end street down the road. I’ve had a few confrontations there before, and came out unharmed. And it is nearby.’

           So the driver of the pursued car heads for the dead end street, which is little more than 100 yards long, and has wheelie garbage bins parked on either side. He pulls into the street, quickly, parks his car, takes his pistol out of its holster, and rushes out of the car, and goes behind a big wheelie garbage bin. He completes all this just as his pursuer turns on to the street. He is ready for the confrontation.

           The pursuer gets out of the back seat quickly, and pistol in hand, he too gets behind a wheelie bin directly in front of the car. For about a minute, nothing is said, nothing is done.

           Then, in what appears to be a very strange move, the man pursued takes off his coat. Then he steps out from behind the wheelie bin briefly to reveal that he is wearing a police officer’s uniform. Then he ducks behind the bin again, hoping that his message is received by the taxi driver. To reinforce the message, he shouts out from a position of greater safety, “As you can see I am a police office. You have been aiding and abetting a known criminal”.

           Not to be heard is the gasp that comes from the taxi driver’s mouth. To use a metaphor that he knows very well, as a racetrack gambler, he has been backing the wrong horse all along without knowing it. What is he going to do now? At the very least, he could lose his taxi driving license. At the worst, he could get shot. What is he to do? He has no weapon. Or has he?

           The taxi driver then shifts his still running taxi, and moves it forward not far forward, and hits the criminal hard enough to make him drop his gun. He then gets out of the taxi and picks up the weapon.

           The real police officer, not the criminal who is a forger well known at the police station, comes out from behind his wheelie bin and strides briskly to the criminal now lying and moaning on the street.

           “Well done, sir!  That was a good move you made in assisting the arrest.. I won’t press any charges against you.”

           The police officer then takes out his phone, and calls the station which is only two blocks away from the dead end street. He does not have any hand-cuffs with him. They are at the station, as he was on his way to work when this whole crazy situation happened.   It is not long before a siren is heard, and a police car drives into the dead end street, lights flashing.

           The criminal is soon handcuffed. The pursued police officer shakes the hand of the taxi driver, and then asks for his card. If I am ever in a situation in which I have to say, “Follow that car”, I want to know who I should call.” 

           They laughed, both thinking that was highly unlikely to happen. Little did they know.