I’ve been waiting for days to tell the second of the stories I wanted to post. One was in anger, about the lies our enemies use. So today, I’ll post the one I liked. I was driving with Shmulik and a car zoomed by at a high speed. We began talking of cars, of speed, of driving.
Shmulik told me of the time he drove about 180 km per hour – there had been a terror attack in Hebron. A pregnant woman was shot. As her husband raced her to the hospital, the call came through and S. and Shmulik took off. Shmulik drove with the siren wailing to get there as fast as he could. I know that road – it isn’t one I’d want to take at such speeds. Then came the second story.
They were having an exercise – police, army, etc. The police were escorting Shmulik and S. to some site. The police turned on their sirens and began speeding – they passed 100, 120, 140 kilometers an hour. Shmulik kept pace with them. They took the car to 160 and beyond…and S. only words as he told Shmulik to drive faster were, “have fun.”
Have fun…S. didn’t tell Shmulik to have fun when they were racing to a terror attack. Then, there was anger in the car and a need to get there fast but when it was an exercise and no lives were endangered – like little boys – the police raced along, taking Shmulik with them.
No, I don’t love the idea of him racing down a highway at 160 kilometers an hour or more, but I guess considering he had a police escort the whole way, I shouldn’t complain. Rather, I’ll smile – a memory Shmulik keeps with him – have fun. They don’t have enough fun.