The Midnight Freeway
The midnight freeway was dimly illuminated by the beams of headlights. After dropping off my husband at the international airport for his presence at his niece’s wedding in China, I was driving back home. It was quiet inside the car, only the radio dully talking about CA vaccine regulations. Not used to driving his big car at night alone, I controlled the speed at around 65-70 mph, leaving enough space for myself. About twenty minutes later on the freeway, a police car sped up from behind on the right, its blue and red lights piercing into the dark night. In seconds, it cut ahead of us in the open area, beginning its wide intentional S-shaped swirls across the five lanes. In all my driving memory, the last time I witnessed this was on a rainy Saturday morning, sixteen years ago, when the sky was pouring, and the freeway was fogged with heavy water haze. I was on my way to the first company I worked for to finish the work before my leave. It was before the Labor Day, and I remember that I was thankful for the swerving police car in the rain, as the speed slowed down and the road becoming clearer.
But what about tonight? It is not raining, and the traffic is normal. Is there any accident ahead? What is the police car doing to slow us down for? I thought to myself. The police car kept blinking austerely ahead, red light alternating with the blue one. For about eight minutes, it led us at a speed of around 20 mph. All cars in the five lanes gingerly followed, kept a good distance, and none of us dared to be too close to it. Luckily there was a car in the front blocking me from the full view of the police's rear mirror, otherwise wouldn’t my stomach tense up? More minutes ticked by. An oversized truck carrying a striking billboard of “Lane Closed” emerged on the far right lane. This must be it, I reckoned to myself, as the truck soon surpassed us and disappeared. But the police car still held us back, and for one time, it stopped us completely for a minute or two, before it let us go. Finally.
We resumed our normal speed on the freeway, and in passing by the next exit, I noticed about five big trucks with “Lane Closed” signs standing one after another on the right two lanes. It must be some kind of construction or maintenance work that has to be done in the midnight.
It was 12:40 am when I reached home.