I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts

Twenty-four hours later, I drove carefully through the intersection where the horrible accident was, on my way to work again.  Someone had collected the smashed street lights that fell in the street, but glass was still everywhere.

No Pants stared at his notebook.  He had left it unattended.  It read:  "I love Ms. Wagner" in Spanish and in English and was adorned with hearts.  He stared at me.
"I did not write this."
I laughed, knowing that I was the one who had obviously set him up.
"It is TRUE, I do love Ms. Wagner, but I did not write this!".
I have no idea what I will do without him when he moves on to 6th grade next year.

"I WILL NOT get on that big fat spooky, sloppy joe bus!"  Jaquey howled, wagging his finger in the air, hand on hip and butt pushed out.  I chased him down the bus line, ears shattering from the pitch of his voice.
"You told Ms. Warner about the bracelet."
"I had to."
"It's okay, she's not mad.  She just wishes I'd made different choices."

I drove to the convenience store Thursday night, in need of a beer.  I bought my six pack and greeted the guy who works there and proceeded to the parking lot.   As I put the key in the door of Alec's car, a man on a bike called out:

"Don't do it!  High speed chase!".

Within seconds a white-largish car tore by, tire flat and falling off, with a dozen police cars in hot pursuit.  It hung a quick right by the gas station and vanished.  I stood next to the car, shocked.  A minute later, it whipped by the left side of the station, sparks flying off of the wheel and flocked by twice as many police cars and roared into the gas station.  I dumped my six pack and ran with the other people in front of the gas station to the barber shop next door.  We slammed the door and ducked.  The pursued car roared in, nearly missing taking out the front of the gas station and Alec's car.  Fifty-gazillion police roared in at the same time.  I stayed down.  All I could think was that the car would crash into us, or that the police would open fire.

"Why we all hunched down like this..." a low voice finally muttered.
We all stood up and peered out of the window.
"Oh shit, it totally smells like marijuana in here, what if they come in?"  I asked, a little freaked.
"Ain't nobody coming in here, this is private property." someone replied.
"Let's watch!"  I responded.
We stepped out of the barber shop, cell phones raised.

A crazy butch cop was punching the passenger window in of the offending vehicle, with his bare hand.  They dragged a youngish, thin man out of the car who immediately raised his hands over his head.  I kept watching, fearing they would shoot him or beat him.

Dozens more police arrived, Fulton County, Atlanta P.D., State Patrol.  There was even a helicopter with a beam circling above.  A fire truck and a Grady ambulance arrived to treat the cop's hand that punched the window out.

They were fist bumping and chest thumping.  Some wore bullet proof vests.  I walked out to my car and recovered my six-pack.  It was nearly impossible to leave the parking lot because of every type of police vehicle known to man.  I was instructed to make a "three point turn".
"I'm sorry," I responded.
"I don't speak cop-talk".
The officer smiled and guided me out.

"What took you so long?!"  Alec exclaimed upon my return.
"Well, let me tell you, "  I began....