“Green. I see green. Must be it. Give it up, yeah. Give it up,” muttered Madge, all covered in mud, her mind racing just moments after dropping off the kids. “There is no way I’ll make it.”
Like rubber boots on ice, something slides as she makes a hard right, then left, then a thud as she hits her brakes. A small voice is whining from under the minivan’s back seat. She pauses at the stop sign to think, staring through the rain.
“How’d he do it?” Cars race past, and the clouds are swirling. Then the light pours through. Across the road lays an open field, glistening in the sunlight. And then it happens.
“Must be my lucky day,” Madge thinks. She looks both ways before gunning it, flying across lanes and up over the low-lying curb, through the chain link fence and onto the grass. Her wheels spin malevolently through the mud, and Madge is stopped.
She bursts from the front door to the sliding one, eyes darting across the floor.
“Come out here you little goblin! I’ll make you pay!”
Reaching under the seat, she pulls out a little black package, tearing the tape from his face and pointing to the field below the rainbow.
The little man looks fearfully up at her. “Miss,” he pleads,”I’m sorry I didn’t cross your kids. I’m new to this crossing guard thing. “