The Red Light

Life presents interesting challenges when an unyielding mindset intersects with inaccurate perceptions.

The Red Light

Rick and Pete had been driving for hours enjoying a particular remote mountain pass which wound through the Great Smoky Mountains. The air was refreshingly crisp and a cool seventy degrees. The scenic two-lane curved road they traversed weaved its way through sporadic rock outcroppings which had been blasted through decades ago in order to connect small thriving communities thereby encouraging commerce. Both men, in their mid-thirties, had their windows completely rolled down. Rick drove with precise intention, never veering more than a few inches from the center median, always both hands on the wheel. He was a man who viewed life through a prism of absolutes, black and white, as it were. Pete was the relaxed sort, very easy going. For at least an hour his feet were propped up against the dash while his right arm remained enthusiastically outstretched through his window, his fingers cupped as if to capture nature itself.

Pete's voice broke the silence. "What's say we get something to eat up the road. Sign back there said food in three miles. Town's name was somethin' like Wears Valley."

"I suppose we have time. This newfangled app says we're right on schedule. Should make it to Knoxville in plenty of time for the car show." Rick said. His eyes began to look for signs leading into town. Three miles came and as promised, there was the sign identifying Wears Valley, population 437, at last count. Rick proceeded toward the exit when their vehicle experienced a bit of a lurch. Dust and dirt from this rarely used ramp began to swell around them, covering previously undisturbed foliage nearby. In less than a mile, dense tress gave way to a flat plain. In the distance, perhaps a mile or so, one could see several one story structures.

Pete spoke up again. "Well, there's gotta be somethin' up ahead. Signs ain't prone to lyin. Let's check 'er out." Emerging from a tiny speck in the distance, Rick began to see a traffic light at the intersection ahead. One would expect such a thing, for a larger town perhaps. Even so, it was one of those old fashioned lights, the kind with only one bulb. It was either red or green, depending on oncoming traffic. No fancy yellow light on this particular model. In this little town of tractors and pick up trucks, it seemed speed was no threat as it related to oncoming traffic. An old man watched in the distance sitting on his porch rocking chair.

"Well dadgumit, it's red." exclaimed Pete. "Not a car in sight and it's still red."

Rick flashed a relieved smile. "That's ok. Look, there's a little restaurant or something across the street. I love to eat at those kinds of places. Home cooking and all. Once this light changes, we'll be off."

Pete continued to babble on, mumbling about this and that. Rick noticed a flash of sunshine in his mirror. A dark Gran Torino had pulled up behind him. He guessed it was a '68. A loud, rhythmic cadence emanated from its chassis, and hoots and hollers from her cab. Only a few moments had passed when the horn began.

"Dude, you gonna move or what?" said the agitated driver. Rick was not phased. This was a county red light and he was not about to be intimidated by a couple of hooligans. He wasn't moving. Certainly not with that police car parked across the street.

Pete turned his head around. "I tell ya what, people these days. They so impatient. And they got their music turned up for all the world to hear. Quick, roll up yer winders."

The Torino erupted with the sound of squealing tires. It pulled up beside Rick's vehicle, stopped, and the driver proceeded to get out.

"What in tarnation they gonna do?" Pete hadn't seen this much excitement all week. The driver walked across the intersection, turned around and spread his arms out wide as if to say 'see, it's all right -- no traffic'. This was followed by one or two choice gestures. After bowing for his brilliant performance, he withdrew back into his Torino and sped off.

Rick said nothing. Pete continued to babble on. "What's say we make a right, a quick left and then another right. No sense waitin' for paint to dry." Rick ignored him and kept looking at the light, trying to figure out why it wouldn't change.

This particular red light would test their patience for a bit longer as this intersection of perception and reason waited patiently for them. The unfortunate circumstance in this instance was that both Rick and Pete, well they were in fact....color blind.

James