Cherries

All I wanted was to get home. Get home as fast as possible. I set the cruise control for 85 after I put on the rock star over sized sun glasses I had bought for my vacation and headed south back towards the city. When I passed the unmarked car on the left, I could of stepped on my breaks and try to avoid any trouble If I knew where my head was at.
The nice young officer let my fly past him and just keep going. And that's exactly what I did. I owned the fast lane never slowing down for a good 5 more miles to the North Branch exit. When I seen him close behind me I pulled to the far right turning the Jeep off and waited.
Officer Erickson more than likely had all ready radioed in my plates. He tipped his hat after cautiously approaching my car and exchanged pleasantries.
"Where are you going in such a hurry ma'am?'
I looked at him and smiled a tired smile but gave him no answer. I had no answer to give.
"Do you have any idea how fast you were moving?", he tries again.
I can answer that, and I do. Officer Erickson is giving me the optic field drug test as I say, "85".
"And where are you going?"
I do not know. I have been on the road for the past three weeks. Some times I am at two, some times three different prison facilities. And they all want me. They want my answers. The want my attention. They want my shoulders. They want my ears. All at the same time. I want nothing of them.
"You coming from Rush City?" The patrol man has spotted my state ID and his voice takes on a softer tone.
I nod and repeat Rush City like an amnesia recovering parrot.
Rush City is a small down full of old pick up and rednecks. The heavy security prison is built in the middle of a corn field and full of the angriest men alive. They are young and mean, unaccepting that they will spend the rest of their days behind bars and eager to fight. The entire town works at the prison. Drive down main street, past the gun store, and the hardware store, after the bakery turning left at the grain elevator any there you will find one of Dante's seven levels of hell.
"Aren't you in the middle of a lock down there?"
"South C found a 13 inch shank make out of a dust mop head", I answer knowing the entire town listens to the police scanners, not just the police officers.
"Hell, I'd be getting my ass out of there in a hurry too", the officer grunts.
It is common ground and I see my hope. I could tell him I was on my way to pick up supplies from Oak Park, or Stillwater, Lino for that matter, if I wanted to put any effort into a lie. But I am burned out and sick of lies. When he stopped me I had no idea where I was or where I was headed. The sun was either rising or setting and I was either coming or going.
"You know officer Kranz?"
"I couldn't tell ya. I just started there so he could be fabulous or an asshole."
The officer laughs.
I wanted to tell him I was in Jamaica when he pulled me over. My mind was on the man I left back on the island and I was unaccounted for. Throw me in a nice quite country jail some where and give me a chance to think.
"Slow down now and stay safe."
To late.