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ten miles an hour.”
“I will drive us home,” Lugal responded. “It is not far.”
“No, you most certainly will not.”
Lugal pulled out of the parking lot onto the side street and Samantha gasped.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Stop the car, Lugal. Stop it this instant.”
He patted her knee. “Your man is at the wheel,” he reassured, stepping on the
accelerator and picking up speed. “There is no need for angst, little one.”
“There’s a stop sign.” Samantha gestured frantically. “You have to stop there.”
“Yes, I know.” After giving her a smug smile, Lugal mashed his foot on the brake,
nearly jettisoning the two of them out the windshield.
“Jesus! Are you trying to kill us?” Samantha screeched. “I’m going to be black and
blue from the seatbelt cutting into me.”
“I-I am truly sorry, Samantha. I did not intend to hurt you. I do not understand
why the car did not stop as smoothly as when you drive it.”
“You have to ease the brake down, Lugal, not slam it to the floorboards. You see?
This is why I haven’t let you drive before. Not only are you inexperienced, you’re also
pigheaded and stubborn and—”
“When I am back in the bottle all alone and without means of transportation, I will
never forget that you let me drive this day, Samantha.” He gave her a doe-eyed look
that melted her insides. “It has given me great happiness.”
Oh, poor Lugal…he was right, he had such little time left here and—
Suddenly it hit her. Samantha’s eyes bugged and she gathered her wits. The man
was playing on her sympathies. Hitting her with the guilt hammer! She crossed her
arms over her breasts, glaring at him. “That was totally unfair. Shame on you.”
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Daisy Dexter Dobbs
“Curious.” Lugal frowned. “According to the online article, “Managing Your
Woman”, the guilt trip method was supposed to work quite effectively.”
“Get out of the car.”
“But—”
“Your driving lesson is over, Lugal. Get out.” Samantha unbuckled her seatbelt. Just
as she was about to open the door, the car lurched, rolled across the small intersection
before she could do anything about it, jumped the curb and rammed into a big blue and
red United States Postal Service mailbox.
“What happened?” Lugal’s face was aghast. “I was about to get out of the car and it
drove itself like magic.”
“That’s because you didn’t shift into park before you let your foot off the brake, Mr.
I Am The Man And Can Do No Wrong.”
Lugal put the car in park. “Yes, I remember now. But you made me anxious,
Samantha. Your angry words and harsh tone distracted me.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault you screwed up. You could have killed someone, Lugal.
What if that was a child instead of a mailbox? Honestly, I could just wring your neck
right now. Look at us. Now what are we supposed to do, hmm?”
She got out of the car to survey the damages, groaning when she eyed the sizeable
dent in the property of the U.S.P.S.
Damn.
Lugal got out and stood next to her. “The metal box and your car have both been
damaged,” he said, stating the obvious.
She just glared at him.
“Perhaps we should get back in the car and you should drive us home,” Lugal
suggested, his big old macho persona taken down a peg or two.
“We can’t just leave the scene of an accident.” Samantha wondered if running down
a mailbox was in the same category as running into another car. No, of course not.
Maybe they could leave. Sure, she’d just call the police department, explain what
happened and—”
Whoop-whoop-flash-flash…
“Aw shit,” Samantha muttered as the police cruiser pulled up behind her car.
* * * * *
“Yes, absolutely, Officer Hartinger,” Rosie’s husband Charlie assured after hearing
out the cop at the police station. “I can vouch for both of them.”
“I don’t know, Professor Dudchowski.” The cop eyed Lugal and Samantha
skeptically. “There’s something fishy going on. First she tells me she was driving and
that he’s her cousin visiting from Greece. She says he can’t speak English. I ask him if
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Samantha and Her Genie
that’s right and the guy tells me, in English, no—he was at the wheel and he’s a genie
from someplace called Sooner.”
“Sumer,” Lugal corrected and the cop, Samantha and Charlie all glared at him.
“So what’s going on?” the officer asked. “Is this guy an illegal alien?”
“Nay, I do not come from another planet,” Lugal stated. “Merely another time. I
told you, I am a genie.”
Samantha groaned. Charlie’s eyebrow raised and he shot Lugal a warning look.
“I told you to keep quiet, Lugal,” Samantha said. “Charlie and I will handle this.”
The cop narrowed his gaze. “If I hadn’t administered a breathalyzer test myself I’d
swear this guy was drunk.” His gazed fixed on Lugal. “Is he retarded or something?”
he asked, almost in a whisper.
“Yes. Aside from having a difficult time with English, Mr. Damu-zid is a
bit…slow,” Charlie offered. “I give you my word that I’ll keep my eye on him until he
goes back to, uh, Greece in a few days.”
“I don’t know. I think it might be better if I hold him for—”
“It seems your son’s been having a bit of a problem in his classes,” Charlie broke in.
“I understand he needs a passing grade in my class to keep from flunking out.”
Hartinger’s eyes widened. “Yes, that’s right.”
“While you’re seeing to Mr. Damu-zid and Ms. Rutledge’s release, I’d be glad to
check my calendar to see if I can fit in some time to give your son some personal
tutoring,” Charlie offered. “Free of charge.”
“Hey, that would be great, professor. Ronnie’s a good kid. He just needs to get his
priorities straight.”
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