I squirmed against the suffocating grip of the waistband, the elastic pinning me like a vice against the curve of Dad’s hip. The air was thick, warm, a mix of cotton and the faint musk of his skin. Each step he took sent a jolt through me, my tiny body jostling deeper into the fabric’s clutch. His voice, a distant rumble, broke through the muffled darkness. “Bye, Nate! Bye, Max!” he called, his tone warm but distracted. The floor vibrated as he strode toward the front door. A metallic jangle of keys, the creak of hinges, and a heavy click as the lock snapped shut.
Outside, the air shifted, cooler and sharper, carrying the scent of dew-soaked grass and exhaust. Dad’s boots crunched on the gravel driveway, each step a seismic quake that rattled my bones. I pushed against the fabric, desperate for leverage, but the waistband held firm, squeezing tighter as he moved. A car door groaned open, and the world tilted as Dad slid into the driver’s seat. The leather creaked beneath him, and I felt the pressure intensify, the elastic pressing down like a collapsing ceiling. My chest heaved, each breath a struggle against the weight.
The engine roared to life, a guttural growl that vibrated through the seat and into my spine. Dad buckled his seatbelt with a sharp click, the motion tugging the waistband even tighter. I was crushed, a speck trapped in a shrinking crevice, the fabric grinding against my back. “Alright, let’s go,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The car lurched forward, and I braced myself, my tiny fists clutching at the coarse weave of his pants.
Through the weave of the fabric, I caught glimpses of the world outside. The car rolled down a quiet suburban street, past neat lawns and picket fences bathed in the soft glow of early morning. A jogger in a bright orange vest darted across the road, and Dad slowed, the car’s hum softening. Trees lined the boulevard, their leaves a blur of green and gold, swaying in the breeze. The radio crackled faintly, a news anchor’s voice droning about traffic on the interstate. Dad tapped the steering wheel, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm that sent tiny tremors through me.
The car turned onto a busier road, and the scenery shifted. Strip malls and gas stations flashed by, their neon signs dulled in the daylight. A delivery truck rumbled past, its exhaust curling like smoke. The road dipped, and my stomach lurched as the car bounced over a pothole, the jolt slamming me deeper into the waistband’s grip. I gritted my teeth, my arms burning as I clawed at the fabric, desperate to shift even an inch. The city loomed closer now—tall buildings of glass and steel glinting in the distance, their shadows stretching across the asphalt.
Finally, the car slowed, tires crunching as Dad pulled into the police station lot. The engine cut off, and silence settled, broken only by the faint tick of cooling metal. Dad unbuckled, the seatbelt snapping back with a thwip that loosened the pressure on me, just barely. He stepped out, and the world swayed as he strode toward the station’s glass doors. The air inside was sterile, tinged with coffee and ink. Voices overlapped, a chorus of greetings.
“Hey, Mike!” a gruff voice called. Dad nodded, his hip shifting slightly, jostling me. “Morning, Sal,” he replied, then exchanged quick hellos with others—cops in crisp uniforms, a receptionist with a jingling bracelet. I clung to the fabric, my heart racing, praying he’d feel me. Then a sharper voice cut through. “Mike, no field duty today,” said his boss, a stocky man with a clipped tone. “Got a stack of paperwork waiting. Hit your desk.”
Dad sighed, a low, weary sound that vibrated through me. I felt a flicker of relief—no dangerous streets, no sirens today. But as he trudged toward his desk, the reality sank in. I was still trapped, a speck lost in the vastness of his uniform, doomed to endure hours of him shifting in a creaky chair, scribbling reports. My arms ached, my breath shallow, but I wasn’t done fighting. If I could just climb, just make him notice, maybe I’d find a way out before the day buried us both.
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