Mulligan's Flight

He cautiously parks as far onto the shoulder shoulder of the county road as he dares to avoid the hazards of traffic. He parks carefully knowing that the local teenagers use this as one of their favorite roads to race the family cars. That’s why the road is streaked with black skid marks, There were continuing complaints to the Sheriff about the races.

The Sheriff, more sensitive than ever to the complaints of his constituents, with an eye to upcoming elections, sighed and assigned his rookie Deputy to put a stop to the races.

The Deputy would hide his parole car behind the bushes and wait for the races to start. For a good reason the races never happened on the road where he hid, and he’d sit expectantly all day and into the night. It was boring and tiring to stay alert for so many hours. His worry kept him awake. He knew that he’d be on the Sheriff’s list sooner or later if he didn’t catch the culprits pretty soon.

He caught no one for a very simple reason that escaped him, The racers would send a scout car to spot him and they would report his hideout on a mobile phone to the others. His ambush would be avoided by switching the race to an alternate road. The Deputy’s presence only added spice to their games.

Hidden in the grass, as he carefully parks, a feral cat warily watches him with his one good eye, In some recess of his feline brain faint memories stir, to be instantly forgotten in favor of ancient instincts. Then the old tom silently slips away. There is no requiem for lost love.

"Good riddance, you disheveled cannibal, All week I’ve had to deal with people with your attitude. Oh, they don’t eat my fingers, but they gnaw away at my peace of mind which is just another form of cannibalism. Come to think of it, some of them even look kind of like you. But this afternoon is my day., I can do anything that I want to today. Nobody will be able to get on my back out here today. I was going to say that I could nothing if I wanted to but thought better of it. How could I do nothing? You can’t just do nothing because by doing nothing you’re doing something after all, if you catch my drift.

He might have made a good bank robber even in front of eyewitnesses. There was nothing outstanding about him to set him apart that a witness could describe to the law. How could the witnesses describe ordinary? They would give a description to the police that would fit anybody in town. He is the ordinary average that could be said to represent all of us. The thing that sets him apart today would be his frame of mind. But how do you put a psychological portrait on a wanted poster on the Internet?

"Today belongs to me," he says to no one. "At least this afternoon belongs to me. I know that I need it. It will give me time to myself to recover from the irritations that maybe I deserve. I’ve been a little out of step with the rest of the world, and the world has irritating ways to get you to conform to all kinds of unwritten rules. There must be thousands of rules which, taken together, is what we call society..

"Everybody has an off day now and then, but I’ve had a week of it. For a typical example of most of my week, on Wednesday the woman at the deli ignored me, and kept waiting on people who’d come in after me. When I complained she said that I hadn’t taken a number and as far as she was concerned I didn’t deserve being waited on for that anyway. I had been preoccupied with my thoughts, whatever they were, and hadn’t paid attention. Very quietly under my breath, I muttered, ‘Nazi.’ She said, "What was that you said?’ I was pretty well cowed, as I mumbled meekly, "Nothing’ to put a stop to things that were already out of hand. I suppose that everyone has days like that. My week was studded with experiences of that sort. But I muddled through. So this afternoon is mine to do as I please and get back in step with the rest, indulge myself and recover. I’ve brought my paints and a canvas in case I do a really good painting. I’ll wait and see where my afternoon takes me."