Winter in Northeastern Ohio tends to cuff arm and leg to sofa inside two-by-four brick-faced tee-pee and a body craves the great outdoors no matter what weather may greet. It was a cold night—mercury hang’n out in the low teens—a perfect night for a cruise. So my bud joined me for a ride over snow crusted road for breath of outside air.

My friend had had a few cocktails and was freely expressing opinions, which, for the most part I found entertaining despite the dark nature of his articulations. I took care as we traveled streets as rear wheel drive vehicle slid easily on icy surface. The heat took its sweet time in warming car’s cabin, but it was now comfortable and my passenger pulled baggie and TOPs from pocket and suggested we park for a few minutes. I nodded and looked for a trouble-free spot, eventually finding purchase on berm in neighborhood under construction. In ritual I’d witnessed many times, my sidekick cleaned herb to rid it of seed and stem only then rolling and sealing paper’s edge. Lighter, no longer standard in today’s cars popped exposing the glow of red concentric circles. As my friend enjoyed his cannabis, the car filled with a thick fog, the only light emanated from radio and the smoldering coal at joint’s end.

We jumped between FM stations hoping to hear our favorite tunes and all seemed well with the world. Suddenly our peaceful moment took on a different complexion when bright blue and red light filled the car’s interior. The “cigarette” was immediately extinguished and paraphernalia hidden. Then came a rapping on pane to my left. I rolled down window releasing the accumulated cloud. The officer let out a “WOW” and was forced to take step backward as smoke billowed. He asked for credentials and as I provided them, I gave my best, “yes sir”. Then for some inexplicable reason my friend started sassing the man in blue, “Don’t let him talk to you that way. He has no right to bother us. We weren’t doing anything.” I was stunned and attempted to explain my companion’s outburst as related to his lack of sleep. The policeman was angry and wasn’t buying my justification. Things were not looking up and I sternly warned my friend to keep his mouth shut. With arrest immanent, I began thinking about my father’s reaction—it wasn’t going to be pretty. Just as constable was to request we exit vehicle his radio screeched. He trotted back to his black-and-white then quickly returned to my widow. “You are extremely lucky,” he said as he handed back license with a grimace, “go straight home.”

I don’t know what in the way of emergency beckoned, but I felt it was of divine intervention and I did as official said, dropping off friend and making no other stops before pulling into my family’s drive.