She passed me my change , “ Supposed to be toxic .
Sayin ' it ' s dangerous .” “ How dangerous ?” Her eyes met mine . “ You should wait here , until we hear more .” “ I ’ ll just walk home , I ’ m not far .” I looked outside and the addicts , ghost-like , were standing at the entrance looking back at me . Waiting . “ I can give you a ride ,” a tired voice from the chip aisle .
I turned and saw a police officer behind me . Tall with a Clint Eastwood face , blue uniform unbuttoned and a pack of cigarettes in his hand . He shrugged , “ Unless you want to stick around here ."
" I ' m fine , thanks . I ' ll call a cab ." I had no interest in getting into the back of a police car . I stood by the magazines and called Greg ' s Taxi . No answer . I called United , no answer . The cashier and cop watched as I put my phone back into my pocket . " I guess they ' re busy ?"
" No one wants to be out in this . You sure you don ' t want a ride ?”
The cashier chimed in , “ He ’ ll even let you sit in the front , won ' t you , Doug ?”
He laughed , “ Yeah , she can sit in the front . I ’ m off duty ."
I had already spent more than enough time under incandescent lights beside candied promises and taquitos covered in dust . " Alright , I guess so , thanks ."
We sprinted to the SUV he had parked around the side . Sirens on the top , Sarnia Police written on the side . It
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