The officer approaching him clearly did.
“Move that thing.”
Harlan turned his chair slightly.
“Good afternoon, Officer.”
“I said move.”
Harlan glanced down at the glass.
“There is broken glass in the roadway. I dropped a jar.”
“I don’t care what you dropped.”
Derek stopped several feet away.
“You’re obstructing traffic.”
Harlan looked behind the cruiser.
There were no vehicles waiting.
Fourth Avenue was nearly empty.
“The pedestrian signal was active when I entered the intersection.”
Derek’s face tightened.
“I didn’t ask about the signal.”
“No.”
Harlan kept his voice level.
“You accused me of obstructing traffic. I’m explaining why I stopped.”
Caleb had now exited the passenger side.
He remained near the hood.
The whole scene made him uneasy.
The older man’s shirt was damp with sweat at the collar, but he appeared composed. A reusable grocery bag sat on his lap. Basil leaves protruded from one corner.
Nothing about him suggested danger.
Derek pointed toward the curb.
“Get over there.”
“I will move as soon as I can safely clear the larger pieces of glass.”
“You’re not listening.”
Harlan looked directly at him.
“I am listening very carefully.”
That answer irritated Derek more than defiance would have.
Harlan could see it.
People like Derek expected fear because fear confirmed the hierarchy they wanted.
Calm felt like disobedience.
Derek moved closer.
“Do you live around here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Harlan paused.
“What relevance does that have?”
Derek laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The attitude.”
Harlan’s expression changed slightly.
“I have given you no attitude.”
“You’re questioning everything.”
“I asked one relevant question.”
Derek turned briefly toward Caleb.
“You seeing this?”
Caleb did not answer.
Derek looked back at Harlan.
“I don’t know where you came from, but around here, when an officer tells you to clear the street, you clear the street.”
Harlan’s eyes cooled.
“I came from three blocks away.”
A woman on the sidewalk laughed before covering her mouth.
Derek heard her.
His face reddened.
“Move.”
“I intend to.”
“Now.”
“It is not safe to roll through broken glass with these tires.”
“Then go around it.”
“The glass is under my right wheel.”
Derek stepped closer.
Harlan continued.
“If you want to be useful, move the larger shards to the gutter.”
Caleb almost closed his eyes.
He knew immediately what would happen.
Derek leaned forward.
“What did you just say?”
“I said you could help.”
“You telling me how to do my job?”
“No.”
“I’m suggesting you behave like someone whose job includes public safety.”
The silence around the intersection changed.
More people were watching now.
Lila Bennett had stepped out of her bakery across the street after hearing the horn. Flour dusted the front of her apron. Her phone was already in her hand, though she had not begun recording yet.
She knew Derek.
Everyone who ran a business on Fourth Avenue knew him.
Two years earlier, he had threatened to cite her delivery driver for obstruction because the bakery van had stopped behind the shop for six minutes.
Lila remembered the way he smiled while the young man apologized.
She had disliked him ever since.
Now she watched Derek tower over a man in a wheelchair.
Her thumb opened the camera.
Recording began.
Caleb moved forward.
“Derek.”
His training officer did not look at him.
“What?”
“Let’s just move the glass.”
Derek turned.
“Did I ask you?”
“No.”
“Then stay out of it.”
Caleb stopped.
Harlan watched the rookie carefully.
Fear.
Conflict.
Embarrassment.