The child in the driver’s seat

IF you want to hear a few stories that are odd or unusual, talk to a policeman. Several stories in this collection involve the arm of the law, but usually the custodians of public safety remain aloof from speculation as to what else could actually have happened.  But this story is interesting. It involves the interplay between the sometimes kind but always long arm of the law and one of the oddest ghostly occurrences you are likely to imagine.

My story starts one month before my second child was born. I said second child. My first child, a little girl—I called her Jane—died suddenly when she was only one month old. My husband and I never got over it and decided not to have another child.

I know! I know! I said I was expecting. We were both surprised and a little worried when I fell pregnant again, but we took good care and we prayed for a healthy and happy child, which is what eventuated.

My story perhaps offers an explanation as to why things worked out differently this time.

 I work late in Jurong and usually travel home to Marseling via Lim Chu Kang Road. It is not really a short cut, but I go that way because we buried Jane there in a tiny plot off path 11 in the Chinese cemetery. I usually slow down as I pass and glance to my left as I drive home. Every week I turn in and visit her grave, something I have been doing for the seven years since she died.

Call me crazy? Why? When you lose your child, you can give me advice.

But I am telling you all this as background so that you can understand why I feel the way I do.

One month before my second baby was due, the police sent me a letter. It was a computer-generated letter that you get when you are caught by a speed camera. They claimed that they had pictures of me speeding along the Lim Chu Kang Road. I did not know that there was a speed camera anywhere round there. And on most days I always slow down when I pass Jane’s resting place. I never speed, but one day, yes I do remember rushing a little.

I forgot about it for a few days then decided I had better go in and pay the fine. My mother lives at Ubi near the police traffic headquarters so it seemed a good idea to call in to the police station on my way to my mother’s house.

When I turned up at the police station with my letter, the clerk looked at me quizzically.

‘Would you mind waiting a moment,’ she said. ‘We need to ask you something.’

She returned shortly after and I was ushered immediately and with considerable (and I thought, unusual) care and concern into the office of the commander. In my heavily pregnant state, perhaps they were being kind.

The police commander had the photo form the speed camera in front of him. He looked at me.

‘Do you ever let a child sit on your lap and drive?’ he asked.

‘I have no child,’ I said.

‘Then who is this?’ he asked and passed me a photograph.

I gasped in amazement. Sure enough, it was my car, but instead of a photo of me driving my car, I saw a young girl smiling at the camera. She was sitting in the driver’s seat, steering the car. She was sitting on someone’s lap. Was it me? I could not tell.

‘I have no idea,’ I said. ‘Are you sure this is my car?’

He shook his head. ‘It is puzzling,’ he said, ‘particularly…’ and he paused and looked kindly at me… ‘as it would be rather uncomfortable to be doing this in your condition.’

I nodded.

‘When was the photo taken?’ I asked.

‘November 11.’ He said.

I gasped. It would have been Jane’s seventh birthday.

‘May I see the photo again?’ I asked and he passed it over to me.

‘You can see for yourself that it is definitely your car,’ he said and I shook my head. He was right.

‘But that day…’ I mumbled. ‘It was the anniversary of my daughter’s birthday… the one that died…’ I paused and wiped a tiny tear from my eye. ‘I rushed home. I was quite emotional. I must hade been speeding.’

I looked again at the photo. I frowned. The little girl looked familiar. I looked at the commander.

‘Do you think she looks like anyone you have seen?’ I asked.

He looked at it. He looked at me. He smiled. ‘She looks like you.’

I swallowed. ‘This is all so puzzling,’ I said. ‘I have no child. I have never ever let any child sit on my lap and as you can see it would be uncomfortable for us both.

The commander nodded.

‘I would like to believe you, but we have the evidence in front of us,’ and I broke down and cried.

I admit that I might have been speeding. It was a bad day for me, but what child? I have no child! My child is dead!’

Once again the commander nodded quietly. He called for a lady officer to come n and offer me some water. I calmed down.

‘Given what you have said, I think we will disregard the evidence, such as it is. I believe your story. I cannot explain this. But in our line of work, the strangest things happen. I am so sorry to trouble you.’

I discussed the weird events with my husband. Neither of us could explain it.

‘Just take it easy,’ he said. ‘Who knows why these odd things happen? Let’s put it behind us. We need to focus on your well being to make sure our new daughter will arrive safely.’

The next day as I drove home along my usual route I got a real shock. Just as I slowed down (as I always do) opposite Jane’s grave, I saw a child standing by the roadside. I was so flustered. I actually sped up and drove home as quickly as I could. I ran into the house and lay down in a faint.

I told my husband what had happened.

‘She was probably there with her family looking at someone’s grave,’ he said as he gently massaged my feet. ‘You are letting your imagination run wild.’

 I gulped. ‘I am sure that you are right.’

 I saw her again the next day. I am sure it was the same girl.  Now I really knew something odd was happening again. I began to think that maybe she might have something to do with the strange photo. She looked around six or seven years old. Could she be…? No! I shook my head and dismissed the idea as nonsense.

But a thousand questions darted in and out of my mind. I could not sleep. 

The following day my curiosity got the better of me. Would she be there again? I could hardly wait till work was over and I drove (much more quickly than I usually do) to the spot where I saw her the previous two days.

She was there. I slowed down to get a good look. To my shock, it was the little girl in the police photo.  She smiled at me, but I hit the accelerator and drove home faster than I have ever driven before.

The next day, she was standing there again, but this time she was smiling and waving. The traffic was unusually heavy and I was quite upset. I hate it when things are too busy.

I stopped I got out of my car and walked towards her. She looked so much like me… Suddenly she pointed towards the road.

‘Look!’ she said.

I looked where she was pointing. As I did, a car crashed into a stalled lorry. Shocked, I turned back to the little girl, but she was no longer there.

Stopping to see her had saved me from that crash.

I have never seen her again, but I know who she was. And I also know that she is still with me and Janet, my new daughter. (In case you are wondering, yes, Janet is fine and healthy.)

I know it is Jane. She wanted to contact me and she succeeded. I don’t ask how, but I know why, and that is all that matters as far as I am concerned. She wants to make sure that Janet is safe. And that thought makes me very happy.

What does not make me happy is that I got another speeding ticket for the day I decided to stop and see Jane! I can’t blame the spirits for that one! I was guilty!

And I must buy one of those gadgets that lets you know when you are approaching a speed camera! Just in case I ever speed again, which I won’t.