Reckless Driving

by Hannah Gradjansky

Just like every other morning since her husband died two years ago, Mrs. Franny Gomboza was out sitting on her front porch by 7:30 am sharp. She rocked soothingly in her chair, while sipping a steaming cup of tea. She intently watched as the neighbors went about their business: walking their kids to the school bus stop on the corner, rolling in their trash cans and hurrying off to work with their ties strangling them. The newspaper boy dropped his bike and walked up the path and handed Franny her New York Times.

“Thank you,” she said handing him a nickel.

She leaned back in her rocker and began to read the front-page headlines. Every once and a while when a car engine would start, she would peer over the top of her paper to see who it was. Outsiders may of thought of her as noisy, but the people of Mayville referred to Franny as the town’s storyteller. Half way through an article about the up coming election, she put down her news paper to take a sip of tea when she noticed something peculiar, The Jones’, who lived across the street and down two houses, car was parked in the middle of their lawn and the front door to their house looked slightly ajar. Franny knew the family wasn’t due back from their trip to Mexico for another week, because while they were gone she was asked to feed their cat. Had she somehow forgotten to lock their back door when she had left last night? She was positive that she could not have made such a mistake, nor could she remember anything looking out of place in their house.

Franny set down her cup of tea and left her place on the porch. As she walked over to the house, she glanced up and down the street to see if anything else was out of place or if there were any mysterious people lurking in the shadows. But nothing else looked different. Franny was careful to not disturb the scene as she walked across the damaged lawn to the car. Peering in the driver’s window she could see the keys dangling from the ignition, otherwise there was nothing that caught her eye so she moved on to the house. Before entering, Franny rang the doorbell numerous times to she if anyone was there. Nothing in the house stirred, so she gently pushed the door open and walked inside. The cat lay sprawled out across the couch as if it was it’s thrown. She stood quietly, listening for any movement when she heard a faint voice coming from the back of the house. Tiptoeing back towards the kitchen, Franny pushed open the door to the bathroom to see if someone was hiding. It was empty. She made her way through the dinning room and into the kitchen. Her heartbeat slowed, knowing the voice she heard was coming from a radio that someone had turned on. Finally, she checked upstairs to make sure the bedrooms were safe.

Franny closed and locked the front door as returned to her house. She sat back down in her chair, picking up the newspaper and a pen. In the corner of the front page she scribbled a note to herself:

Jones’ house

1. Car in the middle of the lawn

2. Front door ajar

3. Radio on in kitchen

4. Cat is alive and well

Franny picked up her teacup, and the newspaper and went inside her house, closing the door behind her. She walked over to the phone and dialed the Mayville Police Station.

“Hello, this is Lieutenant Cooper speaking.”

“Yes. Hi Lieutenant. It’s Franny Gomboza.”

“Oh, Mrs. Gomboza. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I have been taking care of the Jones’ cat while they are out of town. This morning I noticed that their car had been driven up on their lawn and the front door was open. So I was hoping you could send one of your officers over here.”

“Why of course. I will be there in five.”

“See you soon,” Franny said as she hung up the phone.

It seemed like only a minute had past since she hung up, when the doorbell rang.

“Why you got here fast,” she said answering the door.

“Yes ma'am. The station is moving real slowly this morning, so it was easy for me to get away.”

Franny walked over to her dinning table and picked up the newspaper with the list she had written. She handed it to the Lieutenant, “I walked over there before I called you, because I wanted to make sure the cat was fine. I feel rather responsible, since it happened on my watch.”

“Now you know that none of this is your fault.”

“Yes, but…”

The Lieutenant cut her off, “No ‘but’. Why don’t we go take a look at the house?”

Franny nodded her head, grabbing her coat off the back of a chair, and followed him out the door. When they got to the front door, she pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked it. They entered the living room, startling the cat, which jumped up and scampered off to hide.

“Where is the kitchen?” asked the Lieutenant.

“Right this way,” Fanny said as she led him towards the back of the house and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. They were met by the sound of rap music.

“So this is the radio that was on?”

In reply Franny nodded her head, adding, “I didn’t turn it off, so I wouldn’t disturb the evidence.”

The Lieutenant chuckled, “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

He pulled a small pad of paper out of his pocket and started to scribble down some notes. Franny tried to get a glimpse of what he was writing, but she could understand anything without her reading glasses. She decided to head back into the living room to give the Lieutenant some space. That cat had returned to its place on the couch, so she walked over and took a seat on the couch and started to pet the cat. She noticed that the cat was lying on something. It was dark blue so it had blended in with the couch when looking from a far.

“Umm, Lieutenant, I think there is something of interest in here.”

The Lieutenant emerged from the kitchen, sticking his pad back in his pocket as he walked into the living room, “What is it?”

“Well it seems that there is a jacket of sorts that the cat has been sitting on,” Franny said as she lifted the cat on to her lap, exposing a navy blue sweatshirt.

The Lieutenant picked it up and shook it a little, releasing lots of cat hair into the air. He looked at the tag of the sweatshirt and shook his head in disappointment.

“What is it?” Franny inquired.

“I think we have our suspect. It looks like it was the Smith’s boy.”

“Oh no! It can’t be. He is such a sweet boy and he is best-friends with Johnny.”

“Well, I need to go talk with the Smiths now. Thank you for alerting me about the situation,” said the Lieutenant as he walked out the front door with the sweatshirt in his hand.

“I just can’t believe that it was Mark,” said Franny, as she tried to grapple with the idea of what had just happened.

Franny locked the door on her way out and watched as Lieutenant Cooper made his way towards the Smith’s house.