Then came the night we got busted. Yep. Busted.
Chelsea, in her pink John Deere baseball hat, black Danskin tights, and baggy black Head hoodie, had just finished using the trash can as a tripod to catch a night shot of the Christmas lights on Main St.
I was loitering on the edges, gazing into shop windows, admiring the faux zebra fur in the new Main St. boutique. (I’ve got my eye on the black and white zebra leather purse with the red handles – I think it will go really well with my black leggings and new red Christmas scarf. I think it’ll be a real eye-catcher in El Salvador.)
At 10:55 p.m. a state trooper headed toward Main Stop (the gas station/convenience store downtown), spotted someone in a pink hat hanging around the trashcan on Main St. and radioed to the local sheriff on patrol, who rolled slowly by, spotlight on full, and apprehended us.
Within two minutes of the sheriff’s deputy stopping us, the local police showed up to assist in the apprehension.
Blinded by the light, I shaded my eyes and stepped over to the patrol car, ducking down to see who it was and to figure out why we were being stopped. “I know you!” I exclaimed. Immediately the lights went off when the sheriff’s deputy recognized us, and he waved on the local police car.
Back when Hurricane Gustav was threatening us, Chelsea and I had gone over and introduced ourselves to the members of the police department. As luck would have it, this particular sheriff’s deputy was one of those officers. He remembered us from that meeting, and from having seen us around town since then.
I remembered him from a bike ride we’d taken – he had come to our aid out on Zaunbrecher Rd when we got lost several months ago, trying to find Pat Hair’s house. He looked up the street name on his patrol car computer and gave us directions.
Leaning into the window, I explained that we are writing a book (he already knew!), and that we are in the house in our chairs typing, up to 15 hours a day. To work out the cricks and creaks in our bodies, we had started going on walks late at night.
He said he understands the pain – he spends 10 hours a day in the patrol car. He laughed when Chelsea said, “I’ll bet your chair is more comfortable than ours”.
On our way after having convinced him we were no danger to anyone, Chelsea pointed out that we forgot to say Merry Christmas, then added – “It’s hard to remember your manners when you’re getting in trouble”.
The jungle drums around here are so incredibly effective that our only remaining question was, will Heuetta know before we tell her?
We loved the rest of the walk. We checked out all the fun Christmas lights on the houses, and walked around taking in the wonderful evening smells. We had big dog, obviously a temporary escapee, accompany us for much of our walk. The temperatures were drop-dead gorgeous – we had 68 degree weather, with fog misting through town, softening the edges of the houses and trees, and glowing golden through the street lights.
It was really a night to add to the memory books.