The red light

It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the sun was in the perfect position in the sky: directly overhead; it left all the visible sky blue and regardless of which direction you drove there was no glare. It was a busy hour in Menifee and the line at the intersection was endless. Cars swarmed like ants through each rotation of the light.

I moved into the left-turn lane and hopelessly watched as the light changed from green to yellow, then from yellow to red just as I approached the signal. I stopped with the nose of my car just over the white line of the crosswalk. The light on the opposite side must have changed to green: the cars facing me began to move forward. That is a lie. Or a half truth rather. Some of the cars turned right (my left) instead of going straight across.

I was in the inside turning lane and all to my right and behind me cars sat in waiting: waiting for the light to change once again to green. The lane facing me had cleared, but their light remained green. And mine remained red. I knew that I had a bit more to wait; before my light would change I would have to sit through a rotation of the light controlling the traffic on the street perpendicularly crossing the street I was on. I would have to wait through a rotation of their left-turn signal and their through traffic. And all the while, my light would remain red, and I would have to wait or face the penalty of law. So I waited.

And all the while the street facing me remained clear. I could see about a half mile up the road and there wasn’t a car to be seen coming from that direction. And still the light remained green. I looked at the car next to me. I stared at the driver who simply looked forward, keeping his eye on the red arrow; the arrow that dictated his actions and guided his future. I began to wonder to what allegiance this man had with this particular light; what bond had been formed between man and traffic signal that he felt so compelled to give it such respect, such adoration even. I looked at the man until he noticed me looking and looked back. To the light he demonstrated a quiet respect, but for me, for his fellow man, he showed only a slight annoyance, like I had called him away from something important: his waiting.

It made me uncomfortable to look at him for any longer. It was as if the light had taken something away from him, something human and replaced it with something… something empty. I looked into my rearview mirror at the car behind me. It was a red mustang. On its hood, I could see the heat of the afternoon shimmering off in waves. An Asian woman sat behind the wheel of the car. She was small and was contorting her tiny frame in agitation. Or possibly dancing to a strange and Eastern music. Either way, her face was contorted: her lips were twisted in anger and her brow was pulled down to make her eyes squint in pensive rage. I imagined her as having somewhere important to be and the gestures she was making with her body was some form of summoning dance, like a wild rain dance, but one to change the light instead of split the heavens in rain.


I looked over at the round orb light to my right. It was green, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. Still, no cars passed on my left, and still the road was clear for a half mile in the direction facing me. And that’s when the thought came to me, but it approached me in a rush of nausea. I could drive through the light. I could transgress the rule of law, and in doing so, transgress this intersection, too. Every muscle in my body tensed in preparation to lunge forward. But my foot felt heavy as lead and wouldn’t budge from the brake. No, it wasn’t in my foot that this feeling came; it was like an invisible force was holding my leg in place. I checked my rearview mirror and didn’t see a police car anywhere. But that didn’t matter, I thought. This area, especially during this time of day, crept with cops. My mind played the scene out in my head like a movie: I would lunge forward and find my car instantly flooded with light: red, blue, red, blue, red, blue, red, blue, red…

It wasn’t worth it. The red arrow and the letter of the law were perched above me – above mankind. I was, after all, only human; the light and law were immortal and transcendent – whatever that meant. So I would wait. I would be a sacrifice; a necessary casualty to defend a higher order. What does it all mean?

Yellow

Red

Wait…

Wait…

Green

End.

Cody R. Hobbs
9-12-2007