Morning Officer
June 1, 2023 – Green River, Wyoming, USA
Cass and her college-aged daughter, Cecelia, yawned at the same time. Cass maintained a firm grip on the steering wheel as she piloted her new car along an open stretch of Interstate 80.
“I’m hungry. I can’t help it,” Cecelia complained, adjusting the scrunchie around her ponytail.
“I know. You’ve already told me a million times,” Cass replied.
“There was a restaurant right in the hotel. Why not start off the day with some breakfast?”
“You doddle too much during breakfast. Especially if you’re sitting down in front of a plate.”
“Doddle? I don’t doddle. I don’t even use the word doddle.”
“Just relax. It won’t kill you to go without food for a couple hours. I’ll stop when we see a place we can get in and out of quickly. We need to make good time in Wyoming. They don’t care how fast you drive here.”
“What does that mean? We’re going to spend the same amount of time on the road whether we leave after breakfast or not.”
Cass did not bother to reply and continue a potentially endless conversation about food and travel schedules. She turned the bulk of her attention to the display panel of her Cadillac coupe. The car was a birthday present to herself. Cass liked driving fast and the Cadillac glided effortlessly at nearly any speed she dared reach.
This was the Cadillac’s inaugural road trip. Cass and Cecelia were traveling from Oakland, California to a family gathering in Omaha, Nebraska. Rather than fly, Cass wanted to enjoy her car on the wide-open roads of the American West. The trip was split in two by an overnight stop in Evanston, Wyoming. Cass dragged Cecelia out of their hotel room far earlier than her daughter expected.
The pastel colors of the sunrise were still fading on the vast Wyoming horizon. An endless blanket of grassy plains covered both sides of the highway. Cass could see every car sparsely dotting the road for miles in both directions.
The Cadillac’s sound system played a true crime story from one of Cass’s favorite podcasters. She turned up the volume and gripped the steering wheel contentedly. Lane markers flew past in a blur.
“What’s the speed limit?” Cecelia asked.
“Eighty.”
“How fast are you going?”
“A little over a hundred.”
“Hmmm.”
“Why are you asking?”
“That might be a cop up there.”
“Where?”
“That black car way in front of us. I think it has one of those bars on the roof for flashing lights.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t see a bar.”
“My eyes are better than yours.”
Cass strained to get a better look at the black speck in the distance. She turned down the volume on her podcast, and despite claiming not to believe Cecelia, she slowed down. As the speck grew bigger, it became obvious there was something on the roof. Cass eased back further on the Cadillac’s speed until they were barely creeping up on the black car in front of them.
“Yep. That’s definitely a cop. I told you,” Cecelia said with satisfaction.
“Congratulations on being right. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Don’t get any closer. How fast is he going?”
Cass looked down at her speedometer. “Seventy-five.”
“But the speed limit is 80.”
“I know. I’m sure he’s just daring someone to pass him.”
“You said no one cares how fast you go in Wyoming. Maybe you should just go by him.”
“That’s what I’m going to do,” Cass said, flipping on her left blinker.
“No, Mom! I was just kidding. You can’t pass a cop. They’ll pull you over every time.”
Cass groaned and turned off the blinker. “This is completely ridiculous. I’m sure this guy gets a thrill from messing with people’s minds. He lives in some Podunk Wyoming town with nothing better to do.”
Cass matched the patrol car’s speed and kept her distance, but she was antsy to move faster. “The law says you can go 80, we should be able to at least go 80. I’m going to pass him.”
“No Mom! You just have to wait until he gets off the road.”
Cass stewed at 75 miles-per-hour. A line of cars collected behind her. Newcomers moving up fast in the left lane meekly slowed when they spotted the black patrol car leading the procession. After the discovery, they hit their right blinkers and squeezed into line with the other obedient followers.
“This cop should get a ticket, not us!” Cass shouted. “He’s backing up traffic for a mile. Who do we report him to? I’m tired of this. I’m going to pass.”
“Mom, no!”
“I’ll go one mile-per-hour faster. He’s going 75. We’ll go 76. He can’t pull us over for going 76.”
“Yes, he can. He’ll say he’s pulling you over for something other than speeding.”
“I’m doing it. Watch, you can be my witness. I’m setting the cruise control to 76.”
Cecelia protested, but Cass turned on her blinker and eased into the left lane. The black patrol car got closer and closer. They could see details on its side panel insignias. They also had a clear view of the officer behind the wheel. He had a large head and bulky shoulders.
“It’s a big guy driving,” Cass said in almost a whisper. “He’s probably spent his morning eating donuts. Look at him. He thinks he owns the road. Well, who would want this ugly piece of Wyoming in the first place?”
The Cadillac pulled almost even with the patrol car and Cass whispered to her daughter, “Don’t look at him. Keep your eyes straight ahead. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
Cass squeezed the steering wheel and concentrated on the road. She stayed exactly between the lane marker lines until she was well past the cop. Then she hit her right blinker and cleanly moved into the right lane.
“I think we’re good,” Cass said, glancing at her rearview mirror. “He’s not doing anything. See, I told you.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when blue and red lights flashed on the black car’s roof.
“Mom!” Cecelia cried.
“They could be for somebody else.”
“We’re the only ones in front of him.”
“Maybe he’s headed to some emergency.”
Despite Cass’s wishful thinking, the patrol car pushed up right behind her bumper. He clearly wanted her to pull over.
Cass growled. “Alright, alright! I see you. I’m stopping if that’s what you want. You’re making a big mistake.”
Cass moved the Cadillac over to the highway’s shoulder and stopped. The line of cars which had trailed her now zoomed past.
“You should try crying. That works sometimes for getting out of a ticket,” Cecelia said to her mom.
“I’m not crying. I did nothing wrong. This is a total joke. An abuse of power. This jerk is on a power trip. He probably thinks it’s real funny. He gets his jollies from pulling over people from out of state. Well, I hate this place. I’m never coming back.”
Back in his patrol car, Officer Ephraim Farnsworth was in no hurry. He smirked to himself. He knew exactly what kind of anger and anxiety were bouncing around inside the Cadillac. He cleaned his sunglasses and put on his hat before hefting his large frame out his door. He paused to grab a flat box from his backseat and then casually strolled forward. He could see that the car passengers were watching him with their mirrors.
The driver’s side window dropped as Officer Farnsworth reached the left side of the Cadillac. He placed the box he was carrying on the car’s roof.
“Good morning. Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?” Officer Farnsworth peered at Cass and Cecelia with a straight face.
Cass knew she should be polite but she could not help herself. All the nervous energy inside her pushed out an unfiltered stream of words. “No! I have no idea. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was going 76. I set my cruise control. You can ask my daughter. I used my blinker and did everything right. And this car is brand new so there can’t be anything wrong with the taillights or whatever other problem you’re going to make up. So the only reason we’re having this conversation is because you’re on some power trip.”
Cass’s hands trembled as she continued to clutch her steering wheel. Cecelia ducked her head like she expected to be tazed. Officer Farnsworth cracked a smile.
“Before I start on my daily power trip, I like to greet someone from out of state and personally welcome them to Wyoming. This is for you.” He pulled a large sticker from his front pocket and held it out for Cass. She released the steering wheel with her right hand and accepted the sticker, which read “I love Wyoming.”
“You can put it on your car or I see a lot of people putting them on water bottles,” Officer Farnsworth continued. “I also like giving away something else. You like donuts?”
Cass was too stunned so speak, but Cecilia said, “I do.”
Officer Farnsworth grabbed the box from the roof and passed it to Cecelia through the open window. The box contained a dozen donuts. “Enjoy those. And welcome to Wyoming.”
Officer Farnsworth walked back to his patrol car before Cass or Cecelia had a chance to respond. He quickly got behind the wheel and sped off down the highway.
Cass took half a minute to compose herself. She smiled and then chuckled. “I told you it was going to be fine. And now you have your breakfast. You’ve gotta love Wyoming.”
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