A Brush with the Law

I walked slowly up the suburban side street in the semi-gloom. The sky glowed with a deep red color. Sunrise was yet an hour off. My white shirt was soaked with sweat from the early morning's exertion. Since my return to America life I've taken on a regiman of running in the early morning to keep myself from falling into a post Peace Corps downward spiral of sleeping in late, self loathing and eating vast quantities Mexican takeout food. 

The crunch of gravel under tires alerted me. I noticed a car creeping up from behind. I cocked my head to the side and saw that the car had a headlight out.

"Hold on there a moment sir." A voice said over a PA system.

I turned. Overhead lights flipped on and a driver's side beam light trained on me. A few seconds later a short hispanic officer emerged from the cruiser and approached me.

"Good morning sir. Can you tell me what you're doing out here?"

Heat steamed off of me in the cool dawn air. "I was running sir."

The officer nodded. "Where were you running?"

"I went over to...um the Coves of Cimarron," I said gesturing in the direction of the adjacent neighborhood.

"Did you come down this street?" He pointed at the lane behind the car.

"No sir, I ran down the street up there."

Another cruiser pulled up behind his cruiser. "Someone matching you description was reported on that street lying in the grass."

"My description? Young, white male?"

"No, white shirt, blue jeans or shorts."

I looked down at my attire. They were gray shorts but I'd say it was an fair match.

"Do you have any ID on you?"

"No sir. I live at that house at the end of the street though."

He paused. "Can you give me your name and date of birth."

I gave him the asked for information which he radio transmitted to I assume the officer in the other car. With that the other cruiser started up and drove past us. I noticed Buda Patrol etched on the door.

"Buda has police now?"

"No, that's just a car assigned to the city."

"City? Buda is still a town right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"There's the Cabella's."

"An all that stuff on the Interstate," he added.

"Wow, it's really grown. I've been away for the past couple of years. I was in the Peace Corps in Georg...er the Republic of Georgia."

The officer's face took on a bemused expressed. "Um, okay." He checked his radio and listened for a moment. Then looking up he said, "Sorry to bother you Mr. Yarbrough. Enjoy your exercise."

Post Script

Reading through the account again it was a lot more interesting when it happened. Possibly, because I never ever see police in my parent's neighborhood. Much less two at six o'clock in the morning.

Also, I'll try to get up something about my journey back from Georgia and my siblings and my misadventures through Eastern Europe soon.