Little People

“Stupid woman had it coming,” Hank mumbled as he watched the paramedics pull the broken body of a young woman from a mangled SUV. If it wasn’t for her he wouldn’t be late for his date, a date he had been looking forward to for days.
He watched in irritation as a State Trooper slowly made his way up a short but steep incline and headed in his direction. The Trooper had demanded that he remain in his car while he assisted the sloppy paramedics with the body of the broken woman.
Little people, Hank thought, the resentment in his mind building as each precious second slipped by. Little people had no right to detain him, to question him. They were insignificant obstacles in his life.
The Trooper rapped on Hank’s car window motioning for him to roll it down. The weather was dreary and wet. A cold wave was creeping through the area and Hank did not want to roll the window all the way down and let the cold invade his warm domain. With reluctance, he hit the power button and opened the window a few inches. An overpowering smell of burnt rubber and rancid vehicle exhaust fumes hit his nose as soon as the window slid down.
“What?” Hank barked at the shivering Trooper through the narrow open slit.
The young officer looked at Hank with indecision covering his features. “You’ll have to pull over to the right shoulder just beyond the damaged rail.” He pointed to where the woman’s SUV had ripped through the guardrail as if it was wet spaghetti.
“I don’t have time for this bull!” Hank spat back. He pulled a wallet from his coat pocket and slapped it up against the cold wet glass. “I’m with the Department of Homeland Security.” Hank pointed with his index finger at the identification in the wallet. “I’m on my way to an important meeting. I insist you let me go before you regret it.”
The young trooper stared at the identification emblem plastered to the cold glass then back at Hank’s agitated face. He noticed the barely held contempt in Hank’s eyes. “Pull over. “He pointed to the space on the shoulder and walked away before Hank could form a reply.
“Piss ant!” Hank blurted, throwing his wallet on the seat next to him and shifting the car into gear. He pulled over, just barely missing a splintered section of guardrail, then angrily threw the shift into park. He thought about getting out and giving the young officer a piece of his mind but the cold damp weather forced that thought back as soon as he cracked the door open.
He has no idea who he’s dealing with. Hank pulled the door shut. I could have his job with a simple snap of my fingers. I still might. That pleasant thought brought a sly smile to his face.
The wrecked SUV was lodged down in a gully about a dozen feet beneath the roadway. It had sustained considerable damage to the front and half the right side had been ripped open. Personal items had spilled from the vehicle and scattered around the area.
The accident was entirely Hank’s doing. The woman driver ahead of him was going too slow for his needs and he was eager to make his date. Hank had worked on this particular date for several weeks and his efforts had finally produced results. The woman he was meeting not only outranked him in the chain of command, she was his ticket to promotion. The fact that she was physically unattractive and dumb as a box of rocks didn’t matter to him, she was just another pawn among a long list of pawns Hank would use to advance his power base. He would use her to get what he wanted and dump her just as he had so many others.
Frustrated by the woman driver’s speed, Hank had zipped around her fully aware that he did not have enough room to pass before an oncoming truck hit. Through careful calculation, he knew that the driver of the truck would veer away, so he pulled his wheel hard to the right catching the left front end of the woman’s SUV. She lost control.
Hank reflected back on the accident. Stupid woman! Not my fault if she had never learned to drive properly. She had no right being on the road. Important people like me should not have to contend with… little people.
Hank spotted the paramedics as they made their way back down the sharp incline. The young State Trooper was with them. He rolled down the passenger side window and leaned over. “I have an important meeting!” he yelled. “I will not sit here all day.” The hostility and scorn in his voice was heavy. The young Trooper sharply motioned for him to stay put.
Hank pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a quick number. The clear female voice on the other end answered with alacrity and charm.
“Patch me in to the State Highway Patrol headquarters,” Hank demanded, his anger about to hit the boiling point. I’ll teach this punk a lesson, he thought as he waited for the transfer. How dare he detain an important government official? Little people! Insignificant people!
A few moments later, precious seconds to Hank, his call was answered on the other end by a person he considered to be a flunky. “This is Hank Wilson a special agent of The Department of Homeland Security,” he spat into the phone. “I want to speak with your area commander.”
The practiced tone of Hank’s voice was carefully measured to produce not only an authoritarian pattern, but also one of infuriation and outrage. He had practiced it often in order to get the right inflection when dealing with what he thought of as insignificant people.
Hank glanced back down the muddy slope. The paramedics were crawling back up the incline with another body on their litter. It was a little girl, around eight years old, wearing a bright red coat. Crimson blood coated her light blond hair matching the color of the coat. He could not tell if the girl was alive or dead, nor did he care. Hank did not like children. Hank hated children.
One less mouth to feed, Hank thought. The little brat meant nothing. He could not be concerned with little people. He had to think of the big picture. His job was to protect and serve everyone, not individuals. Individuals got in the way of his important climb up the ladder to success. They were expendable variables, collateral damage.
An authoritative sounding voice finally answered the phone. “Virginia State Police, Deputy Superintendent Miles.”
“This is Hank Wilson, Special Agent with the Department of Homeland Security,” Hank growled into the phone. “One of your troopers has detained me at an accident site on 385. I am late for a very important government meeting. You will tell him to release me now or you will both be in a world of hurt.”
“Are you injured in any way Agent Wilson?”
“No, but this idiot trooper will be if I’m not out of here in ten seconds.”
“Hold on while I make a call.”
Hank smiled and started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Little people, he thought. Hank knew that the superintendent was checking his database to see what step in the food chain Hank belonged to. As soon as he digested Hank’s place on the ladder, he’d call back.
In less than a minute the Superintendent was back on the line. “The officer at the scene has been instructed to release you immediately, Agent Wilson. Loose ends will be gathered at a later date.”
Hank smiled. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly people bent over to kiss his rear when they discovered he worked for the DHS. His position was a ticket to do just about anything he wanted, and he loved it. Little people!
Hank started to put the car in gear and pull out then decided to rub it in a bit. He got out into the cold damp air and casually walked over to where the State Trooper was standing by the emergency rescue truck. As he walked up, he dramatically pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket.
“What’s your name officer,” He demanded, glaring at the young trooper.
“Officer Malone sir.”
Hank jotted the officer’s name down. “I will see to it that you are relieved of your position as soon as possible,” Hank stated. “We do not need people like you patrolling our highways.”
Hank noticed the burning anger and sudden fear in the trooper’s eyes. The officer did not respond. Hank glanced at the two paramedics to gauge their reaction to his power. They suddenly turned and looked busy.
Hank grinned and ambled back to his car. He would probably do nothing about the young officer. He did not have time to deal with… little people. Hank simply wanted to see the fear in the man’s eyes when he realized that he had such power over his life and career.
Power. That’s the secret to life, Hank thought. A person doesn’t need wealth; all they need is power. Power bequeaths wealth, power brings passion, and power is all he needed.
He almost tripped over a broken doll lying on the shoulder of the road. Hank kicked it over the muddy slope and heard it bang against the ruined SUV.
Little people! He thought.
As he quickly pulled from his spot on the shoulder he almost caused another accident. Of course, it wasn’t his fault, it never was.
Little people!