He saw it in his binoculars. The stolen car, engulfing at full speed on the access road. He pulled out his revolving light, fixed it on the roof of the Ford Crown Victoria, slammed the car door and fastened his seat belt. Judging by the speed of this little bastard, it was going to be a hell of a ride.

***

He passed by a truck, and was on the highway, far over the speed limit. He was driving like a madman, with the radio blasting, and wind coming from the open window blowing his hair back. All his attention was focused on the traffic, keeping him from thinking about anything else. And that was precisely the point of his wild escapade.


***

Truck drivers and people driving back home got out of his ways quickly at the sight of a police interceptor charging on the highway, revolving light flashing and siren screaming. He was about to help make this country a safer place, and this felt great. This was why he had joined the forces, twenty-two years ago. He had started as a street cop, and was now known as one of the best drivers of the whole county when it came to cars rodeo. And this was not this little bastard who was going to tarnish his reputation.


***

He had skipped school today, had spent a few hours in a bar and then had broken the window of a car parked nearby. Because it had seemed the right thing to do at the moment.


***

The driver of the stolen car had been described as a young boy in one of the radio transmission he had copied. He wondered how old this boy must be...From what he could see, he was a pretty good driver, dodging the slower cars and pushing the gas pedal as often as he could. But he drove with so much rage, there was no doubt this boy was going to cause a wreck. In his opinion, the death of this car thief was no big deal, but he had to be stopped before he could harm anybody else.


***

No matter how fast he drove, or how loud the radio blasted, he could not help thinking. About the people who had pretended to be his friends, and how they had humiliated him in front of the whole school. Since that day, he had not dared talk to them again. Nor linger too long in the corridors of the school.


***

This crazy driver he was chasing was probably a kid from one of these ghettos, or perhaps he dwelt in the shanty town, south of where he lived himself. Or he could be someone from outer town, or even a recidivist offender fresh out of jail celebrating his newly recovered freedom. This didn't make any difference to him. He was going to arrest that guy, period.


***

Things hadn't been very bright at home either lately. His mom had been treating him like if he were some kind of retard for a long time now. All of this because of his young brother turning out to be a prodigy. Since the day his parents had found out how smart the little boy was, they had considered him as inferior, and had started talking about him finding a job as an apprentice in a garage.

***

He wondered when the kid would run out of gas. At such a speed it was a wonder
he had not lost control of his car yet. He thought this must not be his first rodeo
in a stolen car...but this was probably the first time he had been reported to the local police. This young man was going to be in deep trouble if he could be stopped. He would probably go down for a couple of months, with a little luck it would calm him down...but what future would that kid have next? A criminal record was definitively not an advantage in the search of a job. He was really glad his own elder son, Jake, was not like this little brat he was chasing. His son was doing ok at school, he could have a fine job if he kept working hard. He considered himself a good father, the kind of father the driver of the stolen car probably needed really badly.

***

Of all the things that were tormenting his mind, his father seemed the worst of them. As far as he could remember, he had never done anything with his father and seen his father enjoying it. When he had reached the age of seventeen, he had realized his father had never wanted to have children. The old man had found himself trapped into wedded life with a woman who loved kids, and could not stand the idea not to have any of her own. Since that day, he had been able to
see the reluctance in his father behavior every time he had asked him something. The only way not to feel guilt at the prospect of bothering his father so much was to stop considering this man as his father. One day he had found himself incapable of referring to this man as 'dad', so he was now thinking to him as 'Marty'.

***

He was getting closer and closer to the fleeing car now. He could almost see the offender in the interior mirror of the stolen car. He was wearing dark shades, and looked terribly young, probably not much older than Jake. It was funny how two kids of the same age could behave so differently. Jake's usual crew tended to be rich kids, richer than their family would ever be, but these kids had a positive influence on him, and, who knows, good relations with rich people could always help in life, that was what he kept saying to his son. And Jake seemed to take his advices seriously, because he had never seen Jake hanging around with kids who were not wasps. Not the kind of kids who would steal cars...

***

As he honked loudly at a car which was on his way, he thought about his girlfriend. She was probably the only person who cared about him. He hadn't seen her for two weeks now, after a stupid argument, but he was sure they could make it work again if they tried. This time he would introduce her to his parents. He had refused to do so when she had asked him because of his father. The old man was racist. And the girl was black. But he had to do it for her, and for his mother. He really feared Marty's reaction...he decided not to think about it anymore, and focus on the driving instead. He had stolen this car to run away from his troubles after all, not to do some brain storming on them.

***

The kid was driving absolutely carelessly now, as if he wanted to be killed. A thought suddenly struck him: the kid must be on drugs. Another thing Jake would never experience...He remembered how things were when he was young himself: despite the insecurity in his neighborhood, he had always avoided troubles and worked hard to do something with his life. He was quite pleased with what he had now. That speeding away kid would never know how it felt to succeed in life. He was now close enough to try to pass the kid and force him to stop...Oh God, the truck!

***

Tears began to run down his cheeks. He shouldn't have tried to forget everything, his problems kept coming back to his mind, the anguish and shame always stronger. Nothing could save him from this. Not even his girlfriend. She was just a kid, there was not much she could do about all this mess. He had to fix everything himself, and he just couldn't do it. He was only eighteen for Christ's sake. And that bloody cop was getting too close now...Oh sh*t, the truck...

***

The kid and the cop were buried on the same day, side by side in the local cemetery.
The cop's son didn't come to the funeral.
Neither did the young man's father.
Only a widow and her youngest son were here, unsure of whom they should blame out of Marty or Jake for the terrible wreck.