Chapter 20 #2
I didn’t have time to answer, because I had to deal with the deputy rapping on my car window.
I lowered the window all the way down and made sure I immediately put both hands on the steering wheel where he could see them and made eye contact when I respectfully addressed him.
“How can I help you, officer?”
Right how I’d learned on those videos.
Easton
The first thing I realized when I heard Patrice say he was being pulled over was that until that moment, I’d never truly felt terror. I must’ve gone through the first thirty-six years of my life without experiencing helpless, debilitating fear before, because what I was feeling was completely new.
I was having hot and cold flashes and my skin felt tight on my face.
Even my vision went blurry. I looked at my phone as I powered up my car, frantically trying to think of what to do.
How to help him without making things worse.
I could only see a side of his face, and one of his hands, which had the steering wheel in a death grip.
After a second, I heard the voice of the officer. “Do you know why I stopped you”? He sounded young and cocky, and I prayed to anything that would listen that he could keep a cool head.
I could see half of Patrice’s jaw clenching at the deputy’s tone. I knew he was working hard on not mouthing off, and I wanted to scream into my phone, beg him not to do anything to piss the guy off.
“I assume it was because I was speeding.”
“You were going sixty, this is a fifty-five speed zone.”
Was he really stopping him for going five miles over the speed limit? The memory of my teasing from just a few minutes ago soured in my stomach and I had to breathe through the urge to puke.
I wanted to call the sheriff’s office and tell them to call this guy off, to tell him to leave Patrice alone. To not hurt him.
Every conversation Patrice and I had about how these things went was flashing before my eyes, and a wave of nausea rolled in my gut.
I didn’t know what to do.
I couldn’t take the call off because I wanted to see what was happening, and I had to think fast. Every second that passed had the potential to escalate.
“Sir, where were you coming from?” I stared at the screen, watching the scene unfold, and with growing horror realized this deputy seemed hell-bent on starting something with Patrice.
“I thought this was a speeding stop, can I just get my ticket and go?” Patrice’s tone was getting more and more annoyed with every word he said.
The guy asked again, this time with a definite edge to his voice. “Sir, I asked you where you were coming from.”
I saw Patrice’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, then turn his head fully in the direction of the voice.
“I was driving back from Trumansburg. I was there having dinner with some friends and my boyfriend.”
Shit.
“Oh, your boyfriend.” The pit in my stomach widened at the cop’s snide tone.
“Yes, my boyfriend. Look is there a point to this? Are you going to give me a ticket or is this just outright harassment?”
“Did you consume any alcohol this evening?”
The conversation from earlier came back into my head, and the relief of knowing Patrice would have no reason to lie was so powerful, I almost wept.
“No, I did not.”
“Where are your license and registration?” This fucking guy was just not going to let up.
“They’re on the visor above this seat. I am going to take one hand off the steering wheel to reach for it.” Patrice was enunciating every word in a clear, calm voice, obviously aware of his every move, something that would’ve never occurred to me to do.
I saw him reach up and after a moment, the deputy talked again.
“So you’re from New York City, what are you doing up here?”
“I work for Cornell. Look is there a point to this?” Patrice could not keep the annoyance out of his voice when he talked, and before the cop even responded, I knew things were about to get a lot worse.
“Get out of the vehicle.” The cop’s voice all of a sudden shifted, and he sounded pissed.
“What? Why?” If I didn’t know him the way that I did, if I hadn’t spent the amount of time I had with him in the last few months, I would not have been able to hear the genuine fear in Patrice’s voice.
“I said get out of the car.”
I sat there frozen in terror, praying to every deity I’d ever heard of, to please just make him do whatever the deputy was asking him.
“I’d like for you to tell me the reason why I need to get out my car when you stopped me for going five miles over the limit.”
There was muffled sound as though someone was trying to force the car door open, and for what seemed like forever, I could not make out what Patrice was saying.
That’s when I panicked, because I could already see Patrice on the ground, shot.
I immediately put the phone on mute and dove to get my work one out.
I didn’t know what I was doing, or who I was calling, but I needed to stop this right now.
On the screen I saw that Patrice was no longer holding the steering wheel. He must’ve gotten out of the car.
Completely out of fucks and shaking with fear for what could happen if I didn’t do something, I called Day.
He picked up after two rings, even though it felt like a century. I spoke over him as soon as he answered.
“Do you know who’s posted on the road to Trumansburg tonight? You have to call him off. He’s got my boyfriend on the side of the road, Whitney, and it’s escalating.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My boyfriend,” I screamed into the phone, not caring at all how this looked or what it could mean later.
“He’s a professor at Cornell, got pulled over, and your deputy is being an asshole.
He made him get out of his car for no fucking reason.
You need to find out who he is and call him off.
” I was practically barking at him, and I knew this would probably come back to bite me. I did not care.
I could leave my entire career right here, right now, if it got Patrice back in his car and headed home.
Day didn’t hesitate. “Let me call in.”
I waited on the phone, fearing the worst, because Patrice was still not back in the driver’s seat. I thought back to just minutes before when we’d stood on the sidewalk and said I love you. The thought of losing that, of losing him was unbearable.
Finally Day came back on the phone. “It’s Deputy Hines. He’s fairly new. I’ll radio him.”
I exhaled, feeling relief beyond anything I’d ever felt in my life. My limbs felt liquid as the tension started to seep out of me. After a few seconds, which felt like hours, Day spoke again and I could hear the tension in his voice.
“I radioed him, he’s letting him go.”
I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me, as I stared at my phone screen and finally saw Patrice getting back in his car.
“Thank you.”
Day exhaled. “No problem.”
I ended the call without saying another word and waited for Patrice to say something, but he must’ve forgotten that I was still on FaceTime. The next thing I knew, it seemed like the car was moving. When I looked at the length of the call, I saw we’d only been talking for eight minutes.
The longest of my life.
“How are you doing?” I asked in the most normal voice I could manage. Afraid I’d spook him while he was driving.
But when he spoke, his voice was ice. “I’m fine. I’m going to turn this off, while I’m driving. See you in a few.”