1970 Roadrunner - again
Late one night (about 3 A.M.) I had decided it was time to head home to the farm by David City. I had spent a few hours cruising around Lincoln, Nebraska after I'd gotten off work and was driving back through Seward. Home was still 25 miles away. As I passed through the city streets I could see they were deserted. Everyone else had called it a night too.
Seward is not a very large city. There are only a few stop lights. When I approached the second of the two that I had to pass through, it was red. I sat at it waiting for the change to green but it didn't come. I must have been there for almost five minutes. - All the while, the town seemed empty. - Not another moving vehicle in sight.
I'm not sure what came over me. I was bored. I was tired. I was ready to go home. I just sort of thought F*CK it, and matted the gas pedal. Normally this might not have been a big deal. But the Seward police station was a block behind me, the town was quiet, and my car was not. The tires immediately went up in smoke. For a second I enjoyed that adrenaline rush again as the engine roared and the tires wailed. But then as I looked through the smoke in my rear view mirror I could see the cops as they came out of the station. They looked like bees leaving a hive. Although there were about a half dozen steps going down from their door, I don't think they touched any of them.
I had never ever gotten into any real trouble with the law before. But I had just layed down a block of rubber and there wasn't anyone else around to pin it on. I started thinking "What the h*ll did I just do?'
Maybe it was because I was tired or maybe it was because I was a bit rebellious, or maybe it was because I was just stupid. - I don't know why but I kept my foot in it.
In the rear view mirrors I could see the cherries come on. I could see their headlights bounce up and down as they backed out through the dip at the entrance. There were two of them.
Oh sh*t, Oh sh*t, oh sh*t!!! - Was all I could think. I kept it to the floor. About eight or nine blocks ahead the street followed the landscape downward. It was gradual, but probably sixty foot lower than the top. As I got close I glanced at the 150 speedo. The needle had passed the 150 mark and was pointing down at the numbers on the odometer. My car was airborne all of the way til the bottom. It didn't land harsh and my foot stayed down. Ahead the road rose back upwards. I was in a small valley. Back up the road I went, airborne again once I got to the top. My foot didn't budge.
