Journals from within

“She's an artist she don't look back…” with Bob Dylan on the radio, we drove around a maze of wide roads, trying to find the right exit.

All blocks looked copy-pasted, flat and square with some scattered greens. They felt somewhat surreal, seemingly organized yet without visible distinctions.

“Are these guys following us?” suddenly my boyfriend asked, eyeing towards the police car in the rear-view mirror. I looked up and noticed the lights on the top of their vehicle, all playful and bright.

“I don’t think so”, I swiftly replied, eyes shoveling back onto the map I was holding. Have we already passed that turn!?

“Errr… They’ve been behind us for a while now, you know.” His voice lightly teetered as he gently pressed the gas.

Realizing that he sounded uneasy I reluctantly gave up on road instructions and focused on the mirror, just to prove him wrong. A few lingering minutes into stray driving, the police car was still attached to our behind.

“Do you think we should pull over?” he broke the growing, pulsing silence.

“Perhaps, yes…” came out of me as a mumble.

As we stopped we instantly found ourselves face to face with three running officers holding guns; two more police cars were speeding towards us. Adding to the cacophony of sights and sounds, a roaring noise joined from the sky. Above us was a helicopter, tinted just like those police automobiles.

In a quick sequence my boyfriend was handcuffed, our documents taken. We were to remain still and silent.

Many worried eye contacts later, an officer with the Sheriff badge who had our passports returned. “Why didn’t you stop at our sign? We chased you for miles.”

Highly adrenalized, I heard myself shout. “But Sir, we were lost and didn’t realize you wanted us to stop! In my home country the police don’t just drive behind you without a sound!”

The man paused before turning to my boyfriend. “Why didn’t you stop?”

Clearing his throat, my boyfriend looked him in the eye. “Sir, we really didn’t know. Where I come from the police are forceful if they wish you to pull over, and they always use sirens.”

Sheriff sighed. “Our records show that you were speeding off the main road about an hour ago. Due to wildlife preservation the maximum speed allowance in that area is 40 mph and you two went over 80 mph. What were you looking for?”

Driving away with only a warning, an explosion of officers’ laughter still lingered in our ears. We were honest though, it really was about finding Wal-Mart.