"You waited this long?"
"Figured he'd get another license and I'd hitchhike soon."
"That's illegal."
"I didn't start in this state and got dropped off in another. No law against extra people in a van."
I didn't expect it to last this long. Most police had a temper and the power to make someone's life a living hell.
The chief glared as if he could see into my mind or make me spill my secrets. So far, he knew about the joint and the book. All I had left was a special stamp hidden in the backpack's lining in a sealed baggie.
He leafed through the pages, his lip curling with disgust. "I want all the bars' addresses."
"Can't we just let him go?" asked Todd. It was clear he cared, despite everything he had said in the woods.
"Why?" shouted his father with ice in his tone.
"Because I have something important to do with Donna and I don't want to worry about a stranger who came all the way to return a wallet."
"Speaking of returning, can I have my stuff?"
"This trash?" Todd's father picked up the book and joint, then motioned for us to follow. Once near a cell, he tore the book, dropping pages and the joint into the toilet. If he noticed the dropped evidence, he gave no sign. His attention fixated on the nearly overflowed toilet. Several flushes later, he spoke. "That stuff?"
The final flush echoed off the grey concrete walls, and I fought to hide my smirk. The book I could buy again, but the toilet saved me from prison.I hope.
"Now, if you're done wasting my day, it's time for you to list every deviant bar you know. Youwillsign an affidavit."
"He's a… nobody who found my wallet!" shouted Todd.
In Todd's father's mind, that was a lie. We wrecked a car far away from town. I was a drug dealer, gay, or both.
"Is this who we are?" asked Todd. "He came to return a wallet. That's it."
"Then he shouldn't be carrying inmytown."
"Carrying what?" I asked.
His eyes widened behind the thick glasses while he searched his desk. "Vagrancy and resisting arrest, then."
"That's enough," shouted Todd. "I'll argue against everything you charge him with."
A son's word against his father's wasn't the same, but he paused. "Why does he matter to you?"
"Because he's a good guy."
I wanted to smile so much it would have hurt my face but kept it cool.
"Good guys don't take drugs."
"Weren't there times you didn't jail someone?" His father didn't answer.
Todd took a deep breath, his body trembling slightly. "Donna and I…" He closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them up again. "I wanted to ask her tonight and make it official. We're getting married before I leave for Vietnam. I don't want this stranger hanging over me."
My chest tightened. I wanted to say something, but not with his father still in the room.
"Fine," said his father, glaring at me from across the wooden desk. "About time you put your life in order. I'll drive him out."
"I can."
