The Favor

The city worker wrenches the door open; he shines the Maglite onto the controls for the traffic light. He fiddles with a few levers until the traffic light goes dark.

Nearby, the New Haven Police are treating the accident as a crime scene. The driver of the now indistinguishable silver 2010 Audi TTS Coupe is in critical condition. The driver of the white 1996 Ford Taurus has little more than a scratch, although the same can't be said about his car.

While a gaggle of cops troll about the intersection looking for clues that might help them understand more about the wreck, Lieutenant Clarence Granderson climbs into the ambulance with the driver of the Taurus.

Upon entering, the lieutenant immediately assesses the situation, a skill at which he is particularly adept, and determines that there is absolutely no danger. The man he sees before him is no younger than 80 and looks as if he's seen a ghost.

'Mr. Samuel Carson?' Granderson asks.

The old man doesn't move. He sits on the padded stretcher; he is bent at the waist and staring at the ground.

'Mr. Carson?' he tries again, raising his voice a few decibels.

Mr. Carson sits up a tad too quickly, almost losing his balance. He steadies himself and then meets Granderson's eyes with his own. The lieutenant sees confusion and fear.

'Hello, sir' the old man little more than whispers.

'Mr. Carson, I have a few questions for you.' The lieutenant feels as if he's addressing his grandfather. 'Do you feel up to answering questions?'

The old man immediately answers, 'Yes, sir' and turns toward the officer to show that he is giving his full attention.

'Do you understand your rights?' Granderson asked politely.

The old man's demeanor changed slightly. 'Sir, they read me my rights. But I told 'em I wanted to talk. I'm not trying to hide anything. I know when I've done something wrong, and I'll own up to it.' He maintains eye contact to ensure the lieutenant understands.

Granderson allows his lips to curl into a brief grin before looking down to gather his thoughts. How he wished every alleged criminal could approach him.

'So, did you do anything wrong, Mr. Carson?'

'Yeah, I was driving.'

'Driving? Well, you're allowed to do that. You have a license. And you have never had so much as a parking ticket.'

'Do you know how old I am?' The old man eyed the officer and waited for a reply.

'No, sir, I do not.'

'I'm 90 years old. I shouldn't be driving a car past sunset. I can't see.'

'If you know this, then why are you driving?'

'My granddaughter is flying into the airport. But her flight got delayed so it came in after dusk. She called me to come get her. And here I am.'

'Couldn't she have taken a cab?'

'She doesn't have any money. She doesn't take care of her money worth a damn.'

'You could have paid the driver when he got to your house.'

'I'm not paying another dime for her!' His face is reddening with each word. 'She knows nothing about money. Wastes it on that damn phone she has. She overcharges her credit cards. She doesn't listen. Just like her father.' He catches himself. 'I'm sorry, sir. A family issue. I was just coming to pick her up. That's all.'

'Okay, Mr. Carson. Has your doctor prohibited you from driving?'

'Nah. Who needs doctors anyway, except for prescriptions? They have no idea why the hell I'm still alive. Neither do I. So, I say screw 'em.' The old man relaxes with each spoken word. So does the lieutenant.

'So, if you have a license that says you can drive at night and the doctor hasn't prohibited you, then why were you wrong?'

'Look, son. Don't bullshit a bullshitter. I ran the red light. Didn't even see it until it was too late. I clipped that fancy hunk of metal by hitting it in the rear. I saw that much. God help me. I don't think I'll drive again.'

'Mr. Carson, I appreciate your honesty. You have been very helpful.'

'What happens to me now?'

'You just stay in here and get looked at. I'll let you know.'

Lieutenant Granderson exits the ambulance. A tall, slender female cop approaches. 'He just died, sir. About five minutes ago on the way to the hospital.'

'Okay' he responds blankly.

'What do you wanna do?'

'We're going to let him go home.'

'What!?'

'He has no criminal record. He fought in the war, as in the Second World War. He told me the entire truth. And I don't think he'll do it again.'

'Sir, I'm sorry, but that's not how the law works.'

'That's how the law works tonight, Garrett. And if you wanna take this to the next level, I'm more than ready. We're letting him go home tonight.'

She storms away. But never tells a soul.

Granderson climbs back into the ambulance. 'Mr. Carson, I'd like to drive you home.'

'Thanks. So, what's my punishment?'

'No punishment. You must simply guarantee me that you will not drive at night again.'

'What about court dates and the like? I can't imagine the other guy's gonna let this drop.'

'Well, Mr. Carson, I'll be honest. The other guy's dead.' The old man's head sinks into his hands. 'But the other guy was also one of the most dangerous and violent drug runners in the northeast. We've been looking for him for some time. You've actually done this town a favor.'

Mr. Carson lifts his head and glances at the lieutenant with an odd expression. One of utter horror. And yet, relief lingers there as well.

'I'll give you a ride home. My partner will drive your car back.' Granderson aids the old man out of the ambulance and into the front seat of the cop car. They are the last to depart the scene. Except for the city worker who restores the traffic light.