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The Belle Island Loop Road was undergoing a much-needed resurfacing, and Ruby Zech, veteran Island County Road Flagger, was on the walkie with Cal Hopper, her counterpart at the north end of the project.

‘Come in, Cal.’

‘Go ahead, Rubes.’

‘Had one try and run me just now. Over.’

‘No Shit? Over.’

‘Yup. City fella in a fancy German ride. Shot me some attitude, too, after I shut his ass down with the stop pole. Over.’

‘Ha-ha, nice work. Can’t let those summer shitheads think they own the road. You can send your bunch now; I’ve got four here waiting. Over.’

‘Nah, think I’ll keep this one on ice – he’s it for now. Send yours. Over.’

‘Roger that. Out.’

The guy in the Audi sat idling, thinking that, with no oncoming vehicles, she would flip the sign from Stop to Slow any second, though he couldn’t see beyond the bend in the road. Well, maybe the flagger thought his premature stop, then the abrupt approach closer to where she stood was an act of impatient aggression, but the hag didn’t have to pontificate about road safety and potential accidents. Cut me off, too, when I tried to explain…what a bitch. Finally, here comes the southbound group – let’s roll, Stop Sign Sally.

The four vehicles passed him slowly, and he was more than ready to continue to the beach house and start preparing for the bachelor party that evening. Wait, why doesn’t she flip the sign? Isn’t it my turn? That miserable harpy is getting on my last nerve.

Ruby watches the four vehicles roll past the Audi and clicks the walkie.

‘Come in, Cal.’

‘Go ahead, Rubes.’

‘Still just the one asshole here. Think I’ll mess with him some. Got any your way? Over.’

‘Nope, all clear. Watcha got in mind? Over.’

‘I think one a them paving trucks just broke down, and there ain’t no way around until it gets fixed. You still clear? Over.’

‘Yes, ma’am… Ha-Ha-Ha! Out.’

Ruby steps over to her lone vehicle and gestures for the occupant to lower the window. The man in the Audi complies, and with a forced smile, asks why he hasn’t been let through yet. Ruby, in her most professional County employee voice, informs him that there is an equipment problem ahead, and a delay will occur while it’s being attended to. Audi Guy, his patience running thin, grits his teeth and asks her how much of a delay. Ruby shrugs her shoulders and answers that the road is completely blocked by the broken-down paving truck, and there is no telling when it will be safe to travel on. He presses the up-window button, leans back into the soft leather seat, and lets forth with a stream of expletives that would make a longshoreman blush.

Ruby hears the walkie click.

‘Come in, Ruby.’

‘Go ahead, Cal.’

‘Got three more here. You still got the one? Over.’

‘Yep. Hold on a minute; I got an idea. Over.’

‘Don’t take too long, Rubes; my uncle Kirby is one of the three. Over.’

‘Roger that. Out.’

Ruby walks over to the Audi, and the red-faced man inside lowers the window again, looks daggers at her, and demands an update. Ruby tells him she’s sorry, but it will be at least two hours before the paving truck can be moved. She gives no other details. She reminds Audi Guy that the Heron Point Ferry is a short drive around the bay, and services the north end of the Island. Short drive! It’s 90 minutes this time of day, he complains. Not wanting to spend one more second staring at the red Stop sign attached to the aluminum pole held by the she-devil whom he thinks of as evil incarnate, he U-turns the Audi on the empty Belle Island Loop Road and speeds off in the direction of the Heron Point Ferry.

‘Come in, Cal.’

‘Go ahead, Ruby.’

‘Send ‘em. He flew the coop. On his way to Heron Point. Over.’

‘Sending. Heron Point?? Don’t he know the Ferry’s out this week? Over.’

‘Guess he don’t. I sure didn’t tell him. Over.’

‘You got some kind of cajónes, Rubes! Over.’

‘Mess with the bull, you get the horns. Over.’

‘Ha-ha. Hey Ruby – how bout I do the next one? Over.’

‘Roger that, Cal. Out.’

ABOUT THE ARTIST

William P Adams lives near Seattle and writes short, twisted, caffeine-infused fiction in various genres. His work has appeared in 101 Words, CafeLit, Little Old Lady Comedy, Neither Fish Nor Foul, X-R-A-Y Magazine, and others.