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Around The Corner Terry stared down with disbelief at the man lying on the floor, whose blood was now oozing out, colouring the white arrow on the road. Looking around, he saw no one, no one to ask for help, no one to turn to. It was a deserted alley, the only sign of modern civilization being a red Rover parked nearby and he was sure no one was looking. Something told him he could get away with it. It was not his fault. The mad man was sleeping on the middle of the road. “ The law knows no justice,” he told himself as he drove away from the scene. Looking back he wondered if he would ever forget that bend. “Just around the corner,” he told himself as he took the turn into the alley that would take him home and save fifteen minutes at the same time. The normal route would take an hour and a half, with the short cut he would be home in time for his favourite television show; a bumpy ride that was worth it, except for this time. Some drunken fool had been lying on the bend and Terry had run the front wheel over his head, spilling his brains all over the road. Terry was not very used to seeing dead people and the sight of oozing brains kind of freaked him out. Panicking, he fled the scene. Terry arrived home one and a half hours late. Walking in through the front door, he found his wife asleep on the couch with the television on. There was food on the table but did not have much of an appetite left after what he had just seen. He changed quickly and got into bed, only to discover that he could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the bend and the brains all over the place. He reasoned with himself that fleeing the scene was not stupid. The authorities would not have cared if it was not his fault, they would just charge him anyway. Furthermore, there would be no one to testify except himself. No one was going to take his word for it; they would assume he was making it all up to save himself. Still the guilty feeling of having taken another man’s life would not leave him. After much tossing and turning, he finally managed to fall asleep, only to be haunted by nightmares of prison and dead people. The morning did not make it any better for Terry. Checking the morning paper with trembling hands, he found that his worst fear had come true. On the third page, it only occupied a small column but made a world of difference to Terry. “ Man Killed In Hit-and-Run” the headline screamed. Terry could feel his legs turning into jelly as he continued to read the article. By the end, he felt so weak he had to sit down to prevent himself from collapsing. Realising that he could not possibly work in the state that he was, he called the office and told the clerk that he was sick. Careful not to wake his wife, he slipped out through the back door. The walk to the park felt like torture to Terry. He could not get rid of the nagging feeling that someone was following him. By the time he made it to the park, Terry was sweating by the buckets. He sat down at a bench and tried to relax, but could not. It did not take him long to realise that he was attracting attention, acting jittery and all. He decided it was time to move away and started back home. He had the home to himself as his wife had already left for work and for once felt at ease. It was then when the idea struck him. Remembering the appeal made by the police for information in the article, he figured that all he had to do was to lead them astray. He spent the rest of the evening cooking up a plan. By the time the evening news bulletin had begun, Terry had a plan ready. However his next major setback came sooner that he predicted. “A man died last night in a hit- and-run accident” the news presenter began and Terry knew it was no good news. He could not help but wonder why they would mention the accident on TV. He realised he had less time than he predicted. “ The 23 year old man was found dead with a cracked skull and is presumed to have died on the spot. Eyewitnesses have come forward and have identified the car as a Honda. Anyone with any information is requested to contact the police.” Terry knew his plan had to be executed at once. He had to lead the Police off the trail, direct suspicion away from him. Jumping into a pair of trousers that were lying on the couch, he set out, leaving the lights, TV, fans and radio on. Making sure he was not obviously visible, he moved on, towards the heart of the town, where there would be an abundance of pay phones. In his sweaty palm, he held a piece of Post-It paper. Scribbled on it was, in point form, what he had to say on the phone. Terry ran through the points in his mind, reminding himself constantly that he had to cover each point or otherwise it would defeat the purpose. It had been carefully thought out such that all loose ends would be covered, leaving no room for suspicion. It had occurred to him that someone else would probably end up being the scapegoat, but that did not cause him to dither. “It wasn’t my fault,” he kept telling himself. “They wouldn’t have cared would they? I would have just been another common criminal.” Upon reaching the phone booth locater beside an unoccupied lot, he looked at his notes once more. “ Driving by, drunk idiot, car turned, looked like Rover, looked around and drove away, didn’t think was dead,” he repeated once more. He dialled the Police hotline number. It rang once, twice – Terry was beginning to sweat uncontrollably, he was beginning to wonder if anyone would notice a middle aged man with black hair, about five foot six, standing at a phone booth, looking like a boy who was waiting to see the principal, on the verge of wetting his pants. Some one picked up, “ Hello, may I help you?” the sweet female voice on the other end of the line asked. “Y…Y….Yeah, I’d like to give some information about the hit-and –run a couple of days ago, somewhere along North Avenue,” starting off with a stutter, but steadying soon enough. “And what is your name sir?” “ I’d rather not reveal that” Terry said, sounding rather timid. “Yes sir” she replied. “ I was driving back home when I saw a Rover, I think, turn into Kim Seng Lane. It kind of hit a guy lying on the floor, but the guy seemed ok at first, so I just drove off,” Terry said so quickly he half expected the operator to go “Huh?” “Is that so sir, do you by any chance remember the licence plate number sir?” she continued, as if both of them were having a mutual conversation. “ I’m not sure but I think it started with 453, or something like that” Terry replied and hung up. Not taking any chances, he quickly moved off in the opposite direction to that which he had come by, feeling much more at peace than he had a few minutes ago. “Just around the corner” Terry told himself as he walked away from the phone booth. “ I’ll be out of sight when I make it around the corner,” he mumbled as he tried to walk casually, without much success. He turned around the corner and started to cross the road. Just as he was about to reach the pavement, a red Rover turned in at an alarming speed into the alley. Terry stood in its way, too stunned to move. The rover came straight for him and swept him straight off his feet. Terry was slammed against the wall and slumped into a corner, motionless. In his dying moments, Terry managed to catch a glimpse of the licence plate on the Rover. It started with 453. |
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