Just Out Of Time

Just out of Time

I was 2 minutes late leaving home.

What!!

Two minutes, well, that's not much.

Why does 2 minutes mean anything?

Well, today it was the difference between life, and death.

Ok, I can see you are not following the thought processes here.

Okay, I leave home promptly at 7.45am.

By the way, my name is Edward Draper, not Ted, Teddy, or any other derivation of the name.

I am happily divorced, partly because my ex-wife couldn't get away from the fact that my surname 'Draper' was fashioned from the occupation of my great grandparents several generations past.

It was how they made their fortune selling cloth and other things necessary for the making of clothes and other assorted items of apparel.

Gradually, generation by generation, the business and the fortune filtered down to me, expanding as it did so.

Even so, the family concern, and my fortune, was protected by trusts, deeds and other legal things, that meant that the money hungry, gold-digging b1tch, couldn't get her hands on it.

Although she tried.

My God, how she tried.

To no avail.

And much to her disgust, and that of the boyfriend who thought, unwisely, that he would, by default, get his hands on my money by virtue of knocking her up and causing our divorce, well accelerating it really, that the division of assets which she would receive following the divorce would keep him in the style in which he would rapidly become accustomed.

Not so.

I live in a two storey house in a gated community in a more respectable part of the suburbs, by myself now.

Well, not really, I have the obligatory house master named Thomas and two servants of the house master, one named Spencer and the other William.

Thomas is a seal point Siamese cat, enough said, and he rules the house and the two servants with a paw of steel.

The servants of Thomas are two of the most placid creatures I know.

They are dogs.

Spencer is a black Labrador, and William is a tan Dobermann Pinscher.

When formerly introduced, they will be your friends for life, but should some miscreant invade their property without an introduction, just let me say the results will not be pretty, and several hours of their future will be lost until a rescue is conducted either by me or the local constabulary, all of whom are known to the servants.

Oh, they are not my servants, they are Thomas's servants; after all, he is a Siamese cat, and his rightful place in the world, or at least in my house, is Master.

I reverse my car, the latest Toyota Camry Altise Sedan, I'm sure you know the one, with all the bells and whistles, electric everything, keyless start - stop button, front driver and passenger, side front and rear, airbags, the whole kit and kaboodle.

It's a great car, really!!

What it doesn't do, unfortunately, is drive itself.

No, I, or someone else, has to do that.

But if someone else tries to drive it without permission, well, it won't, doesn't, can't.

Some of the anti-theft protection came with the car, the rest I designed, made and fitted.

If I'm not with the car, it won't move.

It's that simple.

It's not rocket science.

It's very handy.

If someone does manage to get into the car and attempt to drive off in it, the doors lock and the perpetrator can't exit the car.

Well, I suppose he or she could, but the only way would be through a window, and they would have to break that.

Oh, yeah, the lawyers have told me that a shitty shrewd bastard lawyer might try and have me charged with kidnapping, or unlawful forced detention, or something equally as stupid.

My legal team tell that if a thief, because that is what they are, is trying to steal any of my property, which includes the car, and they can't leave the scene because defences preventing the unlawful removal of my property come into play, that is their issue; they should not have been there in the first place.

Had the person not been trying to steal any of my property, and were entering my property for legal reasons, then entry as far as the front door was possible, but not beyond, well not unless I was there of course.

And of course they could leave as well.

Anyway, back to the events of the day.

I would leave home at exactly 7.45, reverse out of my driveway, and head to the intersection with the next road.

I would navigate my way through the streets of the suburbs until I got to the main highway which led me to the city, my undercover parking, and my job.

Every day, I would see the same cars join me on the roads, streets and highways.

Every day, the same buses and trucks would join the lines of vehicles, all at the same time.

Every day, the traffic lights would change to green from red at the same time.

Every day, I would arrive at my office carpark at the same time.

Every day, I would get to my desk at the same time and start work.

Until the day I was 2 minutes late.

I turned onto the highway 3 minutes late, having navigated my way through the suburb's roads and streets.

I lost another minute because instead of being in my rightful place in the line of traffic, I was 2 minutes later in the line at the last turning onto the highway.

And trucks and buses that I would normally not see, were now in front of me, and traveling slower.

So, I lost another 1 minute of time.

When I got to the off ramp from the highway to the city limits, I was still 3 minutes late.

Odd how I never picked up any time on the highway.

I turned left onto an inner city street still 3 minutes late.

As I crossed the next intersection travelling on a green light, a truck ran the red light, and T boned me.

I was 3 minutes late up till then.

Had I been on time, the truck wouldn't have been there.

Nor would I.

As everything started to go black, I ruminated that I would never be anywhere on time again.