by P.D. Workman
CHAPTER 17
ABE AWOKE WITH A start to the familiar tap of a nightstick on his car window. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, squinting against the light of the flashlight that the cop shined at him.
“I just pulled over to take a nap,” he said, rolling down the window. “I’ve been driving all night, and I thought I’d better stop before I fell asleep on the road.”
“Get out of the car please,” the officer told him.
Abe yawned and stretched. He unlocked and opened his door. Familiar with the drill by now, he allowed the policeman to push him against the car and spread his legs to pat him down.
“You have any weapons, needles, or anything sharp on you?” the cop demanded.
“No,” Abe answered.
The officer took his keys and his wallet, and felt him down for anything else. Abe closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands while the cop opened his wallet and took a look at his driver’s license.
“You live here in the city,” he accused.
“I used to. Before my wife kicked me out.”
“Where do you live now? You should update your driver’s license.”
“I’m just living with a friend, out of town,” Abe said. "I don’t have a permanent address yet, so I haven’t updated it.”
“You’re required to update any change of address within 14 days.”
“Yes… but I’d need an address to put on it. I don’t have one yet.”
“You’ve been out of the home for more than 14 days.”
“Yes, but I don’t have an address to change it to.”
The officer looked into his car, noting the pillow and the blanket, and the duffel bag of clothes.
“You’re not living with a friend. You’re living in your car.”
Abe closed his eyes again and didn’t answer.
“Are you living in your car, sir?” the policeman persisted.
“Is that a crime?” Abe sighed, though he knew the answer already.
“Loitering and vagrancy are.”
“I’m not disturbing anyone,” Abe said. "I’m not in a public park. I’m just sleeping in my car.”
“You have no visible means of support.”
“If you look in my wallet, you’ll see that I have cash, and business cards. My uniforms are in the car, as well as some extra equipment, and my computer. I am employed.”
Abe was getting pretty well-versed in the ins and outs of the laws in question.
“Anyone can print business cards,” the policeman said. But he did look through Abe’s wallet and stopped to take a look at the business cards, which were professionally printed, not just printed on a personal printer. He hesitated, looking Abe over.
“You need to find somewhere to live,” he told Abe, handing back his wallet and keys.
“Yes, sir. I’m trying,” he agreed.
“See that you do. If you’ve got money and a job, you should be able to find somewhere. You’re definitely the cleanest homeless guy I’ve ever seen… If you can’t get a place, there are still homeless shelters or mailboxes that you can rent so that you can change your address. You need to obey the laws.”
“Yes sir,” Abe agreed.
The cop looked him over once more, and decided it wasn’t worth the bother of writing up a ticket or taking him in.
“See that you do,” he repeated.