Free Roadside Bodhisattva by Paul Di Filippo Page B

cop got out.
    I guessed right away this was Al Vakharia, the guy Ann had warned us against yesterday. When he got closer, seeing his last name stitched onto his shirt just confirmed my guess.
    Vakharia wasn’t really fat, just a little overweight, but he must’ve put on that weight since his uniform was new, because it was really too tight for him now. Or maybe he was one of those guys who couldn’t admit to themselves they had gone up a size. Or maybe he thought he looked like some kinda stud in tight pants. But the way his stomach was cinched in by his belt, puffing out above and below, just made him look like a conceited jerk. His face was kinda pasty, with a narrow mouth and sharp nose. I couldn’t tell anything about his eyes because of his sunglasses.
    When Vakharia spoke, his voice was pleasant enough, I guess, in an official way, but there was still this undertone of “don’t-fuck-with-me” in it.
    “Howdy, gents. I heard tell we had some new residents in the county. Would you be them, by any chance?”
    Sid stuck out his hand, trying his trick of getting Vakharia to shake. But the cop wasn’t Angie, and he didn’t make any move to accept Sid’s hand. After static and voices had crackled from the cruiser for what seemed like a long, long interval, Sid dropped his hand and spoke.
    “Well, officer, you heard right. Me and my buddy here have signed on for a hitch at Rancho Danielson. Sid Hartshorn and Kid A, at your service.”
    The cop ignored me for the time being. “Got any ID, Hartshorn?”
    “Sure thing.” Sid dug a license out of his back pocket and handed it over.
    Vakharia took it, strode to his car and radioed it in. He came back shortly and said, “Okay, you’re clean. Now, you.”
    I gulped, and my throat felt sore. I was scared, but at the same time I was a little angry. “I—I don’t have a license. I don’t drive.”
    “What’s your name then?”
    Should I tell this cop my real name, and risk him finding out that maybe my parents had a runaway notice out on me? I didn’t want my road trip to end so soon. I had hardly begun to experience anything at all. I swore in my head at myself and Sid. Why had I ever agreed to stay nailed down in one place, especially a place that featured such a hard-ass cop?
    I didn’t say anything, and I could see Vakharia starting to scowl. That was when Sid jumped in.
    “Officer, my little buddy here wants to keep his name to himself for a while. Personal reasons, nothing illegal about it. Kid A is all he goes by when he’s on the road. Now, I don’t believe that he necessarily has to supply you with his actual moniker, unless he’s under suspicion of some crime. And you can plainly see that’s not the case. He’s not a vagrant, he’s a gainfully employed working man. In fact, his boss is expecting him in the diner right this minute. You got my credentials, and I stand bond for the Kid. Plus I think Miss Danielson will vouch for us too. Can’t we all be satisfied with that? After all, we’re not going anywhere. You know right where to find us if you need us for anything.”
    Vakharia said, “Don’t like anyone in my district not having some id.”
    Those words made Sid bristle. “You know, officer, that’s one of the great things about America. Leastwise, the America I know and grew up in. We don’t have any national id system. No internal passports like the Red Chinese and the goddamn South Africans before Mandela. I showed you my driver’s license, but that was just a courtesy. That square of plastic is permission from the government for me to drive a car, not permission for me to exist. And I sure as hell ain’t driving no car as I stand here jabbering to you. So if I were you, I’d be content with the half a loaf I got, wish us a pleasant goodbye, and let us get back to work, before I ask for your badge number and your boss’s name.”
    Vakharia glared at Sid for a long time. One corner of his mouth was twitching. Finally he said,