Polly's Way
an excerpt

Polly’s Way

Chapter 1

The Cane Cutter Hotel sits at the end of a long stretch of highway, about six kilometres south of the town of Redgum. A lowset, timber building with long verandahs, surrounded by large shady trees it is a favourite stopping point for the regions locals, and for any travellers heading north or south, wanting a little light refreshment, or perhaps a cheap, clean place to stay for a night or two.

The ‘Cutter’ was also popular with the local policeman, Sergeant Robert Polson, who would set up his radar speed detector in the shade of a large fig tree on the side of the road across from the pub every Friday afternoon for an hour or two. Everyone in the district knew this, and adjusted their speed accordingly when driving past, many of them even gave Polson, or ‘Polly’ as he was more commonly known, a friendly wave. The big man would acknowledge each wave with either a scowl, a slight nod of the head, or a slight lift of the index finger. Polly’s reaction to the waves was generally an excellent indicator of how well each person was doing on Polson’s internal social barometer. The only exception were children, each child usually got a friendly smile and a wave. Tourists were generally ignored, unless they had broken the eighty kilometre an hour speed limit, then they received Polly’s undivided, unsmiling attention.

At five to four, Polly started to pack up his radar kit. A slow day, not one ticket, the highway had been quite, with only a few caravanners lumbering slowly by. Inside the pub, Barry Perkins noted the time and started pouring Polly’s beer, another weekly ritual. Polly had just placed the radar kit in the boot when he heard the distant roar of a car engine coming from the south. His head jerked up as the engine pitch increased markedly, “Jesus!” He scrabbled in the boot for the box containing the radar and lifted it out as the car came into view shimmering in the haze of the highway. Polson flicked open the case and lifted the radar gun out, a small smile on his face. His own life might have resembled a battered bucket of shit, but someone else’s life was about to be far, far worse in a few seconds.