Here Comes Trouble - Michael Moore [84]
“So anyone can just leave America, just like that, no questions asked?”
“Well, I hope so. It’s a free country. Say, is there some reason you shouldn’t be leaving? Your parents know where you are?”
“Oh no, I mean, yes, no—I was just asking. Our parents went ahead of us. They’re waiting for us over there.”
“Well, then, you better get going. And now you’re holding up traffic!”
I gently touched the gas pedal, or at least I thought I did, and the car jerked forward. At that same instant, a loud whistle went off. I hit the brakes. I was so confused and scared I didn’t know what to do. Jacko kept saying, “Run!” and Ralph kept saying “No! Stop!” I can’t quite remember what I did, or what I did wrong, or why someone was blowing a whistle, but I could see in the side view mirror that the old man had left the booth and was approaching my door. I knew this had been a trap! I steeled myself for whatever was to happen. I looked over at Ralph. He had his knife out.
“Jesus, put that—”
The old man was at my window.
“Sorry, son,” he said politely and a bit out of breath. “I didn’t see the boat you were hauling.”
The boat! The boat! The goddamn boat was going to do us in! What the fuck were we doing with a boat? Oh, shit, what had I got us into?
“That’ll be another twenty-five cents for the boat.”
Holy shit. Phew!
But at that moment, Jacko, apparently not hearing the man’s simple request for an extra quarter, had thrown open his door, jumped out, and took off running across the Blue Water Bridge.
As I handed the man his quarter, he yelled at Jacko.
“Son, get back in the car! There’s no pedestrian traffic on this bridge!”
“I’ll go get him,” I said in a rush. “Don’t worry. Sorry!”
I hit the gas and caught up to Jacko in a matter of seconds.
“Get the fuck in here or you’ll get us all arrested!” Ralph yelled at him. I pulled over and Ralph grabbed his arm. Jacko snapped back into his senses and got in.
“Jesus!” I said. “That was fucking stupid.”
“Hey,” he said, “I wasn’t taking any chances.”
“Jacko,” Joey said. “That guy wasn’t going to do anything to us. He was old! Like fifty or something!”
Things calmed down and we headed across the St. Clair River, leaving the United States behind. At the halfway mark there was a big sign that said WELCOME TO CANADA, and we all let out a big “WOOOO-HOOOO!!”
But now we had to get through the Canadian checkpoint. I pulled the car up to the Canadian booth. This time, it was not a school crossing guard. This Canadian looked official, like one of those Mounties, but not. He waved me to approach him.
“Citizenship?”
That was the only word he said. Wow, I thought, they get right to the point here.
“Yes,” I answered. “Thank you!”
“Citizenship?” he said, louder.
“Yes,” I repeated. “We’d like that.” I couldn’t believe how generous the Canadians were to just, like, right off the bat, offer you citizenship!
The Canadian looked at me. Hard.
“I don’t have time to fool around. What is your citizenship and place of birth?”
Oh.
“Uh, Michigan. American.”
“And where were you born?”
“Flint, Michigan.”
“How ’bout the rest of you?”
“American.”
“American.”
“American.”
“And where were you born?”
“Flint.”
“Flint.”
“Mexico.”
Uh-oh.
“Are you a citizen of Mexico or the United States?”
“Both,” Ralph said.
“What’s the purpose of your visit to Canada?”
“We just thought we’d come over the bridge because we’ve never been here,” I said.
“What’s the boat for?”
“Oh, that’s Joey’s. His dad just had it attached to the car,” I answered, thinking fast.
“How old are you boys?”
“Seventeen.” “Seventeen.” “Sixteen.” “Seventeen.”
“OK, pull over in that space over there.”
I steered the car over to a small lot in front of a building with official-looking people in it. A man in a uniform came out.
“Please get out of the car, pop the trunk, and step inside.”
We got out and went inside the building with the Mountie (or whatever he was). Two other officers started going through the