I step over toward Gladys.
Jesse’s rattling off infractions like he’s a caller at an auction. “... impeding the flow of traffic, failure to use the right side of the roadway, operating a pedestrian device in a roadway when the sidewalk is available, creating a traffic hazard …”
“Are you gonna throw the book at me, Jesse?” Gladys asks, still rolling along at the pace of a snail on Sunday.
“It’s my job, Miss Gladys. All you have to do is move to the sidewalk so the good people of Bordeaux can pass through here.”
Cars continue to honk.
Someone shouts, “Get out of the road, Gladys!”
She ignores them. Or maybe she can’t hear them. It’s hard to tell.
“The sidewalk cracks make me wobble,” Gladys says. “They resurfaced Main and it’s smooth as butter. I like it better.”
“Well, this isn’t a matter of what you like,” Jesse says. Then he adds, “ma’am,” for good measure.
“Jesse Heinz. I have known you since you were born. You don’t get to write me up for driving home down Main Street.”
“You need to move to the sidewalk, Miss Gladys.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Youneed to move out ofmyway. Have you seen those cracks? They’re bigger than the line down my plumber’s backside, and trust me, he needs to get some pants that fit so I don’t have that knowledge. There’s some things you can’t unsee once you see them.”
I chuckle, but cough into my hand to cover it.
“Gladys,” I say.
“Oh, hi there, EJ,” she beams over at me.
I’m strolling slowly along with her and Jesse and Chief Gene and my two crewmates. We’re walking slower than normal, but we have to move to keep up with her.
“Hi,” I say. “If you look around, you’ll see traffic is backed up in both directions waiting for you to move along.
She pauses, looking over her shoulder and then down the road ahead. “Well, look at that. Isn’t that nice, them waiting on me.”
“I don’t think they have a choice,” Truck says.
“We really need you to move out of the street,” I say.
“And I will. When I reach my street, I’ll turn down it.”
“We need you to get up on the sidewalk,” I clarify.
“I just told Jesse here, I can’t ride on that sidewalk. It’s dangerous. I might tip. And then what would you do?”
I look around at the other men, unsure what to say or do.
“I’m sure it’s not so bad,” I say. “Look at all the people walking along safely right now.”
The sidewalk’s not crowded. Nothing around here usuallyis except our festivals and the line to get into the weekly half-price movie at Movies on Main.
Gladys tsks at me. “Ask Marlene. She tipped right there last year.” Gladys points over to a spot on the sidewalk as if it’s the exact location. “She laid in the petunias for twenty minutes before someone stopped to help her up. I am not ending up in the flower bed like a yard ornament for all the town to admire.”
Truck’s laugh is quickly cut off when Gladys glares at him. She points her finger in his direction. “This thing weighs more than my belated husband, Ernie, God rest his soul. If I go over, you boys would need a crane to lift me. You think there’s a traffic hold-up now?”
We’re all speechless. I glance around at the crew and officers and get nothing but shrugs.
“But now that you’re here,” Gladys says to me with a wide smile in my direction. She’s still inching forward while the crowd continues to shout and honk. “I heard a piece of news. Did you and Angie go out to eat at Grant’s on Friday?”
