What If...?

My English teacher assigned this assignment as a response to our spring break- I almost took it seriously.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spring break is nothing but an extra long weekend for me. It’s not a time for vacations, nor trips to unusual places. It is simply a time when I have to sit home and clean, watch television, and take various trips to town to run errands. This spring break was no exception. There was nothing remarkable or exceptional which occurred within this past week.
After a forgetful weekend, I was locked in my home to perform various tasks which would improve the overall appearance of my abode. My mom left with a few stern instructions for me to fold the laundry and clean my room. There is something one must understand about laundry in my house. My mom has the horrendous habit of letting load after load pile up on her bed. Usually after six weeks, she realizes that the drawers are bare and people collecting clothes from her room at all odd hours. Then she instructs me to take care of her problem. I folded clothes all day- socks, underwear, baby clothes, oversized tee shirts, work jeans, and pajamas. I was down to the last basket which contained seven socks, and I had to leave for a work day at church. Realizing that my mom would understand, I left to perform my civic duties.
While I was cleaning the church, my ill grandfather called and requested my presence. I consented and left to visit. I thought nothing of the visit since the location was less than a mile from my house. So as I sat on the couch with my grandpa, listening to him snore as he watched an old John Wayne film, my mom began her journey home. Twenty minutes later my cell phone started to sing at me. “Where are you?” my mother grumbled from the other end of the phone, “get home now!” When I arrived home she told me to forget the rest of my spring break just like I had forgotten the seven socks.
Tuesday, I was taken to the office as my initial punishment. As I applied for various stores around town, my phone rang. My best friend requested my attendance to a movie with her and her boyfriend in Tallahassee. I asked my mother in what I thought was vain. But to everyone’s surprise, she permitted me to go if I promised to run an errand for her. The three of us piled into Ashley’s small gray car and drove to the movies.
After a brawl with the Garmin GPS system we arrived at the back side of the AMC Theater. Flustered and late we pulled into the parking lot at an illegal speed. We swerved around a fair that was setting up in a separate parking lot and pulled around the front of the theater. Just when we thought we were home free, just on time, an ever so sneaky goose bolted in front of the car. Narrowly, it escaped a gray death and we made it to the movie just in time. But what if we had hit the goose?
Feathers flew everywhere as the oversized duck lay convulsing on the hood of the car. A spider web had etched itself into the windshield from the impact. Every passenger gripped the armrests of their seats as Ashley gripped the steering wheel. The sneaky goose wriggled its way to the ground and let out a honking screech of death, and then it ceased to move.
We slowly slipped from the car surveyed the damage which had caught the attention of an approaching security guard. His yellow lights were glinting off the shattered windshield and onto the face of the goose murderer. He slipped from the Ford Explorer and walked over towards us slowly. He was fat and had a ketchup stain in the center of his starched white shirt. “What have you done to this goose?” he asked as though he couldn’t see the disheveled animal lying limp on the ground with its feathers all over the hood of the car. He hoisted his belt and cocked his hip to the side, waiting on our reply. Ashley was too distracted by his Hitler mustache to give him a comprehendible answer so I volunteered my voice.
“Well, as you can see, this goose flew in front of our car just as we rounded the corner. The death really was uncontrollable. We are so sorry.” I offered with as sincere a smile I could hold in the situation. He licked his mustached lips and pulled out his notebook. “Do you realize,” he began, “that this particular breed of geese is endangered?” I was unable to control her tongue, “Of course they are if they keep darting out in front of Hondas.”
“Hey! This is no time for a sense of humor,” Then the mall security man grabbed Ashley’s arm and put her in the backseat of his car. Turning back to Ashley’s boyfriend and me he said, “There is a fine for the slaughter of this innocent animal which must be paid at the time of the accident.” He hoisted his belt once more and cocked his hip in the other direction. “You will need to bring $3500 dollars to the security office on Munroe St.” With that he got into his patrol vehicle and drove off.
I had no experience driving in Tallahassee and no money with which to bail out my friend. So the boyfriend and I got into the feathered car. He turned on the Garmin and typed in the name of the office we were in search of. Twenty minutes later, the Garmin told us where we needed to go. We pulled out of the parking lot and hit the highway. The second my tires hit the highway, it started to pour, and while it washed the feathers from the car, it made the roads dangerous. After the Garmin’s robotic voice led us to the office, I was given the task of parallel parking. It took five minutes for me to finally get the car strait in the space, but I finally killed the engine and we ran into the office.
Ashley sat in room with a glass door reading DETAINEES. The secretary behind the aged counter smacked her gum and twirled it in her fingers. “Can I help you?” she asked in a Jersey accent. “Yes ma’am,” I replied. “I am here to rescue that detainee. You see, there was this sneaky goose…” She held up two fingers and shhh-ed me. She typed furiously and said, “I need thirty- five hundred dollars.” My debit card was declined due to insufficient funds and the boyfriend just shrugged.
Frustrated, the secretary stood and led us to a back room. The walls were papered in an odd green color. In the room sat this old man with grayish hair and horn-rimmed glasses. “Bring that other girl in here too,” he instructed the secretary. Ashley entered the room and sat across from us. “Do you understand that you have killed an endangered goose?” We all nodded. “Do you concede that the accident could have been avoided?” We all nodded. “Good. I can lower the charge to $1500, but I can’t let you get away any cheaper than that.”
Ashley always wear clothes that are a little too low cut, revealing a little more than we would all like to see. But today, her overexposed chest is what saved us a hefty fine. She slid her chair back a little and leaned over the table, giving the old man a perfect view. “Please, let us off with a warning, just this once. I promise it won’t ever happen again.” With a crooked grin, the old man nodded and waved to the door.
Triumphantly we strolled to the damaged little gray car. We decided to skip the movie due to the day’s events and just head home. The drive home was quiet. Inside however, we were all laughing. We had hit a goose, been arrested, parallel parked, flashed an old man, and lived to tell about it. Good thing, we hadn’t actually hit the goose, or I would have had some story to tell about my spring break.