Larry drove slow because he knew he was drunk. It didn’t matter if he got caught because he owned this town. He’d gotten half of the cops on the force their jobs, and the other half knew him by sight. They knew his car, a 2010 black Audi with the FOP symbol on the plate, covering up the wildlife habitat on the vanity plate. His plate was easy to remember, LH-57.
Even though he drove slow, he didn’t see the tree that jumped out in front of him. He noticed the bump when he hit the curb, but didn’t think anything of it. He slammed into the tree. Because he also was above the law, he didn’t wear a seat belt, and his head slammed into the padding of the steering wheel. His whole body had jerked forward, and then back hard, breaking the seat and sending him almost flying into the back seat.
The airbags had gone off, and everything was covered in a layer of dust when he came to.
“Are you all right?” asked a voice.
He opened his eyes, but they were sticky. He wiped his face and looked out the window.
A young man with green hair was standing at the door. He must have broken the window because there was glass inside his car. Larry got pissed, and his head started to throb. “What did you do to my car?”
“You hit a tree. Don’t move, I called the ambulance.”
“I’m fine,” he said, trying to sit up. “You broke into my car.”
The green hair retreated, saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
That’s when he noticed that the young man’s mouth didn’t move when he spoke. Larry tried again to sit up, but he had nothing to hold onto except the other front seat, and it was far away from his grasp. “Just stay still. The police are on their way.”
“They’d better be, after what you did to my car.”
“Listen, Mr. Hands,” said the voice, “You hit the tree. Don’t blame me for stopping to see if you’re all right.”
“I don’t see any tree.”
“Of course not, because you’re drunk.”
“How do you know I’m drunk?” He could see red lights now on the roof of his car. He heard the man’s voice outside, a murmur, not as clear as it was just moments before.
Someone shined a light into his car, and briefly into his face. “Mr. Hands,” said someone, a tone of authority in his voice, “We’ll have you out of there in a minute. Just don’t move.”
“Arrest that boy for breaking into my car.”
He heard a sigh from somewhere.
“Sir, if it wasn’t for this young man, you’d probably be left for dead.” He retreated, and there was more murmur of voices.
“Screw this, I’ll have your badge!” Larry moved his body sideways and reached for the seat. His hand was wet and slipped, and he fell back again. It felt like his brain rattled in his skull.
“Don’t move or do I have to make you not move,” said the boy again. Larry looked around for the source of the voice. He rolled his body, trying to get a handle on something, anything, to sit up.
“Mr. Hands? I’m an EMT, we’ll get you out of here in a jiffy.”
“You tell that officer I’ll have his badge if he doesn’t arrest the kid who broke into my car.”
“Right,” said the EMT, retreating again.
There was silence for a minute, and then the screech of metal on metal. Someone was tearing apart his car! With a growl, he tried to get up again, but the pain in his head was too much.
“Sleep,” said the boy’s voice. “Sleep.”
He next woke up, he brushed aside something that was in his nose. He took a breath, and that hurt his head. He was lying flat on his back. He felt pain in his arm when he moved it, and noticed now he was in a hospital bed. He hurt. Everywhere.
Then the memories came flooding back. Leaving the bar. Driving through the town, jumping the curb, hitting the tree, then nothing.
A woman came into the room. “Mr. Hands, good, you’re awake.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Six hours.” She stuck something back up his nose. “You need to keep the oxygen, Mr. Hands.”
“What happened?”
“You hit a tree last night. A young man was driving by and called the police and the ambulance for you. You’re very lucky.”
“That boy…green hair?”
“I don’t know. The police took a statement.” She straightened him out. “Don’t move too much. You were thrown around your car so you’re a little battered.”
“I did hit a tree,” he murmured. All that happened after that seemed like a dream. The boy’s voice, calming him down…he drifted off to sleep again.
His son and daughters came in after the police. The police explained that a young man had been driving by and saw his car wrapped around the tree and called it in. Yes, he had green hair. He gave his name as “Radar.”
“Find this kid,” said Larry, “And offer him my apologies.”
“He’s a hero in Millennium City,” said the police officer.
“I’ll find him, then. Give him some money or something.”
“He’s a hero,” said the police officer. “They do these things out of the goodness of their heart.”
Larry couldn’t believe it, but he would find the kid and send some cash his way, anyway.
((Writing prompt: What is the love interest is a cranky chairman? Not quite the writing prompt, but it made me think of this, instead.))