2012
R. Linda:
Some days things go along gloriously for us, and on other days, they don't. Take, for example, me former intern, the brilliant and, might I add, usually alert Ms Jaio. I will give her this, though: since the Sam fiasco, she hasn't been on her game. No, she's been moody, a bit depressed, closed off and, well, just not her usually bubbly self. If I try to talk to her about what I know is the problem, she cuts me off and, well, I know not to bother her; just let her stew in her own juices until she's ready to serve up Sam on a plate.
Anyway, I had some important papers that were being left for me downtown. I was swamped with work, so I asked Ms Jaio to pick them up for me. She was willing and left, no questions asked.
Ms Jaio got downtown to pick up my office-related material and, being in that grand funk she's in, got into the wrong SUV. It's several blocks away when she notices the dashboard isn't the one she's familiar with. In a panic, she calls me- yes, me- who's very busy- to manage a potential grand theft auto situation over the phone. I thought she was joking, but I should have known better, not in the mood she was in. I stupidly told her to not stop, do not pass go, drive back to the exact grid coordinates she stole the SUV from, park it and walk away- easy-peasy.
"I can't do that." She said, annoyed.
"Wait! How did you manage to get the SUV to run?" I was curious.
"I always leave the keys inside. I know, stupid."
I sighed and thought she wasn't the only one; someone else did the same thing, and here we are.
It got worse: she stopped for a light and saw a silent passenger staring at her in the rearview mirror, which almost made her jump out of her skin. She wanted to pull over, but what to do? Why is there a large grey dog in the backseat? Her first instinct was to let him out, but then she realised she couldn't do that. What if he was some prize dog? And secondly, she was not only guilty of stealing a car, but of dog-napping someone's pet.
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| She sends me this |
Meanwhile, I am telling her that if she gets pulled over, she doesn't know me, she doesn't work with me, and that package was never authorised. She didn't find me humorous.
"Okay, so you touched the steering column, you breathed on the glass, you need to wipe that down and oh, yeah, the dashboard as well," I said, not really helping.
"You make me feel like America's Most Wanted." She said. "Stop with the stupid and obvious advice and help me."
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," I said, thinking that my advice to turn around and drive back was the best advice, but apparently not to Ms Jaio for whatever reason. I was about to find out that reason.
"Gabriel, there are a lot of patrol cars around me. They must know." She whined.
I sat there thinking: that was fast if someone just discovered their SUV missing and called it in. No, not enough time for the constabulary to be out looking.
"Gabriel, the police are clearing intersections as I'm driving down the street, and I'm the only vehicle they are letting through." This was said at the beginning of panic.
"What's the dog doing?" I asked her, trying to take her mind off the police.
"It has its head out the window and is enjoying the ride. What do you think it's doing?" Suddenly she shouted, "Oh my god, Gabriel, there is a line of black cars a block ahead of me, with police on motorcycles, lights flashing! And another a block in back of me! What does THAT mean?"
Hmm, I thought, what does that mean? I had a brain flash and turned on the local telly because something was playing in me mind that I knew I knew, but couldn't remember. And there it was, the high-profile political motorcade going to the polls to vote. And there in the very middle of the screen, separated by maybe five car-lengths either way, was Ms Jaio, unknowingly and unwittingly a part of a televised motorcade!
"Ms Jaio, do you have those papers you were picking up for me? The editor is making horrific barking noises at me to get it done." I said.
"Gabriel," Ms Jaio whispered, "I need you to listen to me very carefully. I'm currently in a moving vehicle, and I am not a car thief, but legally, I might be a car thief with a dog that doesn't belong to me. Do YOU really think I care if an editor is yelling at you?"
"Okay, let me give you the news: YOU, Ms Jaio, are in the middle of a political motorcade. The patrol cars aren't hunting you; they are escorting you because they think you belong there."
"How do you know this?" She asked, interested.
"Because I have the TV on and I am watching YOU with a police escort in a stolen car."
"What?"
Dead silence for 3 seconds — "Turn around and put it back right now."
"Are you crazy?! I can't! I'm four blocks away, and every cop in the area is outside! I am not exaggerating, and if you are watching this, you know that! Blue and red lights are flashing at every intersection. They know, Gabriel. They tracked the GPS. They're setting up a perimeter!"
"Ms Jaio, calm down. Why would the entire precinct mobilise over a mid-size SUV in broad daylight? I'm telling you they think you are part of that political entourage going to the polls."
Jaio, her voice cracking, said, "Why? Because of the hostage! There is a big dog in the backseat! Aren't you listening?! It is staring at me in the rearview mirror with pure, unadulterated judgment, Gabriel. It looks like it has the aura of a federal judge. If I get pulled over for grand theft auto AND dog-napping, I am going to federal prison."
"Okay, legal disclaimer: YOU do not work for this company. You are a rogue agent. If the police call me, I've never heard the name Ms Jaio in me life."
"Not funny, Gabriel! This isn't the time for jokes!"
"Fine! Wipe down everything. Do you have a napkin? Do not leave fingerprints! Now, perform a tactical U-turn, drive back to the parking garage, park it exactly where you found it and walk away like you haven't a thought in your head."
"Stop with the jokes, can you? A police cruiser just pulled out directly behind me! (A loud, sharp CRUNCH echoed through the phone)
"Ms Jaio, what was that? Did you hit the cruiser?"
"No! The dog just found a bag of artisanal potato chips in the back seat and started eating them right next to my ear! Gabriel, what do I do?!"
Ms Jaio kept her eyes locked on the rearview mirror. The police cruiser behind her hadn't turned on its sirens yet, but it was tailing her closer than a shadow. In the backseat, the dog let out a heavy, disappointed sigh, its jowls vibrating as it finished off the last of the artisanal potato chips.
"Gabriel, he's still behind me. The cop. And the dog just licked the back of my neck. I think it's a threat."
"Just act natural. Turn right at the next light. If he follows you, we look up bail bondsmen."
Jaio told me, in no uncertain terms, that she couldn't signal and turn.
The entire four-lane avenue ahead of her was completely blocked off. There weren't just two or three police cars; there were dozens. Officers in high-visibility vests directed traffic; police horses stretched in a line along the curb.
"Gabriel, I don't think they are looking for me; I think the Mayor is going to the polls to vote."
"Oh, thank god," I breathed, "Okay, so pull over, get out of the car, and—"
Suddenly, the officer tailing her tapped his horn. He rolled down his window and gestured frantically for Ms Jaio to keep moving forward, waving her past the barricades and into the official car lineup.
Before she could protest, a parking enforcement officer ran up to her passenger window and knocked. She slowly rolled it down, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Hey there!" the officer boomed cheerfully, looking past Ms Jaio into the backseat. "You're just in time! Chief said you guys were running late. Go ahead and slot right in behind the Mayor's car. Everyone's waiting to see the guest of honour!"
Ms Jaio blinked several times. "The…guest of honour?"
The dog in the backseat let out a sharp, authoritative BARK! and immediately shoved its head out the rear window, panting happily and wagging its tail. The crowd on the sidewalk instantly erupted into cheers, and a child pointed, shouting, "Look! It's Barnaby, the K9 hero!"
Over the phone, I could hear the crowd.
"Ms Jaio? Why does it sound like you just won a stadium event?"
"Gabriel," Ms Jaio said, staring ahead at the Mayor's car as her stolen SUV slowly pulled up to a stop. "I don't think I can return the car right now. I'm currently chauffeuring the town mascot."
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| Barnaby (I took this off the TV) |
Barnaby was leaning out the back window, barking at the crowd. The handler was opening the back door as Ms Jaio came to a stop. Barnaby was out and being led towards the crowd of admirers.
"Ms Jaio, talk to me. Are you in custody? Do I need to contact legal?"
"Worse." Ms Jaio whispered. "I am currently passing the Mayor, coming out from voting. They are turning around. Gabriel, they are looking right at me."
Twenty feet ahead, the Mayor, flashing a blinding smile at constituents, turned around to see the beloved police dog. The smile froze in place. The Mayor looked at Barnaby, then looked at the driver's seat, then looked back at Barnaby.
The Mayor tapped a high-ranking police officer on the shoulder and pointed at Ms Jaio. The officer strode over to Ms Jaio's window and signalled for her to roll it down. Looking utterly bewildered but keeping a public-relations smile plastered on his face for the crowd and cameras, "Excuse me! Who are you? And why were you driving Barnaby?"
Ms Jaio's brain short-circuited. She looked at the officer. She looked at the crowd and the Mayor. She looked at the news camera currently filming LIVE.
"I'm…the valet!"
The officer and the Mayor stared at her, blinking, then the Mayor squinted at Ms Jaio's office-casual outfit. "In a beige cardigan?"
"It's tactical beige, yes, Ma'am!" Ms Jaio said desperately.
The police handler came up looking perplexed; he had heard the conversation, but said nothing. He studied Ms Jaio, like he was trying to place her. He did tell her to park up near the alley. Meanwhile, I watched it play out in real time. I knew where she was.
"Ms Jaio," I whispered into me phone, "now's your chance, to escape. There's an alleyway coming up on your right, past the doughnut stand! Take it! At the next street, make a right, and it will take you right back to the parking garage."
I heard nothing from Ms Jaio for an hour after. I was almost frantic with worry- well, not frantic, but I was wondering what happened to her. The camera had panned to the dog and the crowd, and that was that. I turned off the TV and wondered.
"I'm back!" I heard her voice behind me, making me jump. She slung her purse down on me desk and sat down. "I found the same parking space. I wiped the SUV down, made sure I had all my stuff, and put it back exactly where I found it."
She paused.
"My car was three spaces down."
I stared at her.
"Three?"
"Don't."
In the back of me mind, I was thinking of TV cameras, garage cameras that take your picture as you enter and exit, so not quite all traces. I didn't have the heart to tell her that. But then what if the authorities turned up and arrested her for grand theft and dog-napping?
"Let's go tell Cruella what happened, to be sure you are legally safe. After all, it was an accident."
She looked at me, and I could see the horror of realisation coming over her.
"Yes. Yes, I should do that. Will you come with me?"
I dropped back to me usual voice and said, "Did you get the papers I sent you for?"
Gabe
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