The Red Hand

She waited.

The red hand at the crosswalk said stay. Her phone told her to go this way. She did not look up other than to check occasionally if the light had changed.

No cars passed.

It was against the law to jaywalk and she was a law-abiding citizen. The light was red. Therefore she waited.

A young man walked up, looked at her, looked both ways, saw no cars and crossed. She looked up from her phone just as he stepped off the curb. Her reflex was to reach out and grab him by the shoulder to stop him, but she was too late. It wasn’t that she was trying to impose the rules herself. She was genuinely concerned that he might get hurt. A car could come by at any instant and the red hand was still lit.

But no car came.

The young man made it across the road without event and was on his way and soon out of sight.

She had been pleasantly distracted by streaming videos on her phone while waiting, however the arrival and departure of the young man made her aware that she had been standing at the crosswalk for a long time. In that time she hadn’t seen one car, nor had the light changed. Had it not been for the young man, she might not have noticed the passage of time.

She shuffled her feet and began to feel the weight of her purse. Sighing a heavy sigh, she called a friend.

“I’ve been waiting here forever!” she said without even an introduction.

“Where are you?” her friend asked. “You left here hours ago!”

“I know, right?” She pouted at her phone. “The light won’t change! I just keep seeing that stupid little red hand.”

“OMG! Why don’t you go another way?”

“I can’t. My map says I have to go this way.”

“That’s crazy!”

“I know, right?” She shifted her weight onto one foot and did a little absentminded twirl.

“What if you crossed the street? Is anybody there?”

“No,” she said. “There was just a guy here and he crossed against the light.”

“So why don’t you?”

“’Cause it’s wrong! What if I get caught?”

“You just said you hadn’t seen any cars. What if the crosswalk light isn’t working?”

“Okay, I’m going to try.”

She looked both ways up and down the empty road. There were no cars. The red hand still shone bright on the lamp post on the other side of the crosswalk.

She took a big breath and put one foot on the road, then another.

She was just about to start walking when a police car appeared.

Frantically she jumped back onto the sidewalk.

The cruiser slowed down and stopped in front of her. The passenger window slowly lowered. A middle-aged policeman with dark, slicked-back hair, a bushy moustache, and a dark complexion looked at her and wagged his finger.

“I’m sorry. But…”

“No,” he said.

He pointed at the glowing red hand across the road.

Then he was gone.

She stamped her feet and called her friend.

“Did you make it?” her friend asked excitedly.

“No,” she pouted. “I had just stepped onto the road when a police car came by.”

“Did you get a ticket?”

“No, but he warned me to stay on the sidewalk.”

“But this is crazy! You’ve been there forever.”

“I know! That’s it, I’m doing it! I’m going!”

“That’s it. Fight the power, sister!”

She kept the phone in her hand and declared, “I’m going!”

She started crossing the road slowly at first but then began to pick up her pace.

“You’re doing it!” her friend shouted.

She had almost made it halfway across the road when the police cruiser with the same police officer showed up. He pulled his cruiser up beside her, blocking her progress, lowered his window, and with his hand shooed her back to the sidewalk.

She shrugged, turned around, and walked back. Her shoulders slumped as she dragged her purse back to the curb.

“But… I’ve been waiting so long,” she said.

The police officer just smiled, wagged his finger, and pointed at the red hand.

Then he drove away.

Her friend was still on the phone waiting.

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t cross the road!” she said and stomped her feet.

“What are you going to do?”

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

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