The Red Light

This story is by Eva Gerber and was part of our 2024 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

That one phone call changed the trajectory of my entire future.  Chuck’s plan to continue at the university would be severed, and I feared mine at the community college would be as well,  sabotaging my dream of independence.

 As the phone on our kitchen wall shrieked,  I jumped to answer.

“Amy, are you sitting down?” the eighteen-year-old love of my life asked.

“Why?”

“They just announced my draft number.  It’s four.”

“Does that mean you’ll go to Vietnam?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Consumed with fear I fell to my knees, weeping uncontrollably.  I had questioned the legitimacy of this insane war, but now it held my future captive, and I despised it.

 Every news outlet adopted the abysmal habit of sensationalizing the slaughter of young men, ours and the Vietnamese.  And any hope of peace in America evaporated with the National Guard opening fire on unarmed students at a small college campus in Ohio, killing four.

Dad yelled, “Turn down the TV, Amy, I don’t care about the damn war.”

“Maybe you would if you weren’t drunk.”

  Since mom passed three years ago, his drinking has gone from bad to worse.  His ridiculing and belittling were unbearable; I dreaded the inevitable day his abuse turned physical.  I needed to escape his tyranny, and graduating college was my ticket.

“Amy, if I enlist rather than waiting to be drafted, I’ll have a better chance of avoiding Vietnam..”

“Anything that keeps you alive is what I want.”

Chuck’s basic training in San Diego put two thousand impossible miles between us.

I longed for him, but it was foolish to quit school.

We cried at the airport when he left.

 “Wait for me, Amy, and stay in school.”

“I’ll wait forever.”

  My heart ached after he shipped out, but I realized my day-to-day life stayed relatively the same, except with Dad.  His drinking increased, and the verbal abuse intensified to the point of being unbearable. Suffering from frequent stomach aches and headaches was a big neon sign that I had to take control of my life.  Spending nights at friend’s houses helped, but it was embarrassing.  I went home to get clean clothes and do laundry while Dad was at work.  I often had to choose between cutting class or missing work to avoid him.   Unfortunately, my grades slipped, and, at the same time, my boss issued a warning for missing too much work.  I needed  Chuck’s advice, but thanks to the Navy dictating no communication during basic training, this was impossible.

Finally, his first letter came, making me realize I’d have to stop by Dad’s every day to check the mail before he got home from work.  Knowing him, he would burn the letters without mentioning them.

Depression set in when winter semester ended, with my grades at an all-time low.  Chuck was the rudder of my boat, and without him, I was losing my way.

My sensible side said it was prudent to stay the course, finish school, and learn how to handle Dad.  I could take more night classes, work night shifts, and sleep during the day while he was at work.  I could do it.

Walking through the front door I said, “Dad, don’t expect to see me around here much.  I’m going to work nights and take night classes.”

He blew a gasket, yelling, “Your worthless piece of shit.  I know what you’re doing.  You don’t want to be here when your old man is here.  Is that right?  Well, I can work night shifts, too.”

  I cried myself to sleep sometime after midnight, feeling hopeless and weak.  Mom would have absolutely hated this entire situation.  I desperately longed for her.

 Alone, at eighteen, I found making big decisions wasn’t easy, but this one was clear-cut, school had to wait.  I would load my VW Bug with all it could hold and drive to California.  Once I got there, I knew Chuck would help me figure out the rest.

 I had never driven alone more than fifty miles, I had never read a map, and I had never slept alone in a cheap motel, but what I lacked in experience, I made up for in determination. The next afternoon, I drained my savings account, loaded Dad’s cooler with groceries from the fridge, placed it on the passenger seat, and headed west.

Driving alone across the dull, flat plains gives a girl plenty of time to reflect.  I determined Mom would have stayed with Dad because she would have believed he needed her.  She would have given him more of herself than he deserved. Maybe I had given him too little.  Maybe not.  Maybe at eighteen, I gave all he deserved and all I could afford.

A small town in the middle of nowhere was where I filled up with a second tank of gas.

“Stop at the red light,” the attendant yelled as I pulled out onto the street.

Halfway through the sleepy,  little town, the light turned red, and I stopped.  It stayed red forever, and with no cars coming in either direction, I slowly drove through the red light.

There it was.  Out from behind a drive-through car wash came flashing red lights and a blaring siren.  Busted.  I wasn’t halfway across the country yet, and there I was,  getting pulled over.

“Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked.

“Why, yes, sir, I do.  I assume because after I sat at that red light for an eternity and it never changed to green, with no other cars in sight, I drove straight through it.”

“Yes, that is right, you did.”

“I can’t afford to pay a fine, Sir.”

“Then you shouldn’t have disobeyed the law, ma’am.”

He wrote the $25.00 ticket and told me I could put cash in the envelope he provided and place it in the town hall mailbox in front of the police station.  Note to self, “Stop at the red light, even if it appears safe to push the limit.”

  Some motels I stayed in weren’t fit for a quick sheet, let alone a girl just trying to make it, honestly.   I’d sleep between the steering wheel and the cooler before I’d lower myself to that level again.

The Last Stop sign didn’t resonate until just beyond it I saw the Mojave Desert sign.   I wrestled whether to fill up now or later.  Surely, there would be another gas station halfway through the desert.  Close on time to keep my promise of when I’d meet Chuck in San Diego, I didn’t think I should stop, but recalling the flashing red lights in my rear view mirror I quickly pulled into the gas station.

Waiting outside of the base for Chuck was a thrill.  Sweaty palms and a heart beating out of my chest were not helping me look my best.  My tall, handsome sailor ran through the metal gates, picked me up, and twirled me around, screaming, “This is my girl! This beauty is my girl!”

After telling him I had specific standards for motel rooms, we found a decent one.  It wasn’t the Taj Mahal, but it wasn’t in the red-light district either.

“Chuck, I limped in here on a wing and a prayer, but I’m here with you.”

“Did you think this through, or was this one of your spur-of-the-moment decisions?”

“Well, it was somewhere in the middle of the two.”

“I love you, girl, but you rush when you should sit longer to ponder the best outcome.  You know, when the light stays red too long, and you want to run it?”

“Yep, I sure do.”

“Have you thought about how you’ll finish school?  That’s been your top priority, and I won’t let you throw it away.”

“I’ll get a job and save up money, and I hear there is some college money available for poor students.  Chuck, I didn’t want to worry you, but it became insufferable with Dad.  I had to leave.  I was scared.  His drinking is totally out of control, and he takes his anger out on me.  Getting to you was all I could think about.  I was at a point where I had to choose school and put up with his drunken fits or leave.  Trust me when I say I weighed the options, and although this isn’t perfect, it is the best for me at this point.”

“We’ll figure it out.  Let’s get settled into a nice, small apartment and go from there.  This much I know: I love you, and I can’t imagine life without you.  I’ll get shipped out, and you will be here alone, do you think you can manage here by yourself until I get back?”

“Yes, I’ve learned some lessons driving across the country by myself.  Trust me, if the light turns red, I’ll stop.”

With a smile on his face Chuck dropped to one knee, “Will you spend forever with me?”

Happier than I’d ever been, I answered, “Yes, sailor, I will.”