Stop Light

Paula and Sylvia’s Place was in the back of the Fiesta, Darren was the front passenger with Steve as the driver; it was his ‘ride’ they were going to lectures in, this was their crew, they travelled together. It helped that they were all on the same course and had the same time table. In their first year of college, their schedules were different and they hadn’t got to know each other well as yet. They moved out of student accommodation in their second year and now lived in the same vicinity so it was easier for Steve to pick them all up on his way.

Wednesdays meant first lesson was after lunch so there was little or no traffic on their way in. On other days where they had to be on campus first thing, it was harder for Steve to get through the congestion so the girls caught the bus. He still picked up Darren on those days but the girls tried not to protest too much as Steve never asked them for a contribution towards petrol, besides there was no agreement to take them on any days at all so it was a fair arrangement. And as bad as rush hour was, they were at least not in uniform, the students had a much harder time. There was no provision for school busses and because they paid half fares, the bus drivers didn’t want to take them, or took only three at once if they were lucky. This meant that there were large crowds of school children at the bus stop in the mornings causing all sort of mischief. It was worse after school where they had more time to spare on their way home, another reason the girls valued their places in the back seat.

The music blasted from the speakers as usual. They were into the Fugees and the debut CD was blaring out from the souped-up stereo system Steve and his cousins had installed. It was all base. The AC was never used so the windows were down which ensured that as many people as possible heard them even if they were not much to look at in the faded grey Ford. As they made their way to college, laid back as it was an afternoon start, in no hurry since they were well ahead of time, and rocking out to Fu Gee La, they stopped at one of the series of traffic lights that lined that stretch of road. Soon after, a car rolled up beside them. Steve looked over at it, the passenger in front with the driver was what the boys would describe as a bombshell; all tits and (bright red) lips. In an attempt to impress her, Steve revved his engine in a way which suggested, ‘wanna race?’ The driver did a slow motion turn to look at them, disdain written all over his face. He started from the wheels of car then worked his way up to see who or what dared challenge him. He stared at each of them, from one to the other and smiled as his gaze fell on Steve, then He revved his engine. It was like a mini earthquake. The sound alone rocked their poor Fiesta from side to side. He revved again, the engine rumbled as it turned over. It was loud. That machine was not designed for public roads, it sounded like something preparing to launch into space.

In response to this monster vehicle, Steve revved his engine, Betsy (Steve insisted she be referred to as such) sounded even more mousy than normal. The guy in the other vehicle pulled his reflector sunglasses down to his chin, looked at his passenger, back at them and danced his eyebrows above his head, then he stopped, pointed at Steve and with a down turned mouth, shook his head. When the light above turned yellow, he nodded towards the road ahead as if giving them a head start, Steve revved once more and as soon as they got the green light, they were off, speeding as fast as the humble Fiesta could manage in spite of the wind vibrating against the light metal panels of its frail body. The engine laboured so hard that it drowned the sound of the radio. All of them were sitting forward, screaming, pumping their fists and cheering themselves on. Were they winning? It looked like they were because the rumble-in-a-sports-car back there had not moved from its spot. ‘Yesssssss!’ they screamed, ‘come on!’ as they looked behind them and again at the road in front of them. Both girls were hugging the head rests of the seats in front of them to brace themselves, Darren was clutching the dash, his feet flooring the imaginary accelerator on his side and Steve’s knuckles were white from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. If they could make it to the next set of lights before the other car, they could probably beat the red light and leave smug face behind. They were doing it, it looked like they would make it.

When they were halfway between stop lights, the other vehicle came alive. All they could hear was the engine roar. The car hugged the road, it didn’t rock or move from the force of the wind or the bumps in the way, it charged towards them, like a lion after its prey, it got closer and closer till it pulled up beside them where it lingered on long enough for them to see the driver’s broad smile. It looked as if it were floating. He teased them a little, falling back and then catching up with just a touch of the gas while the Fiesta laboured just to keep its pace. When he was ready to really move, the driver gave them a don’t-ever-mess-with-me glare, saluted them and then levitated off the ground. In a flash, it shot past the next three set of lights; they hadn’t even got to the end of the first set, and was out of their sight. They didn’t so much as see his dust. Steve and the gang laughed so hard they struggled to breathe. They knew the car was going to be fast but they had no idea it would break the sound barrier. Was it even legal for an engine of that capacity to be doing those speeds on this road? Red lips didn’t even acknowledge their existence, not once during the whole farce of a race. The boys hoped speed racer would get stopped further along the road and earn himself a speeding ticket. Unlikely though, he would just blend in and carry on with his daily commute, until some other college upstart dares him to another ill-fated race they were bound to lose.