At half-past three in the afternoon, Max descended promptly, entered his Cadillac, and drove home along his familiar route.
By the roadside, Elena, observing from a weathered old Toyota, saw the Cadillac turn at an intersection. She pulled out her phone and dialed, saying, “The fool is on the move!”
Upon receiving a response, she followed at a considerable distance.
The road was not congested, and Max drove at a brisk pace. During his journey, he answered a call: “Sweetheart, pick up the kids. I’ll make them chocolate chip cookies tonight.”
As the Cadillac entered a narrow two-lane road, it jostled over a small stone, causing Max to instinctively reduce speed, slightly adjusting the steering wheel to avoid other scattered debris.
Someone had carelessly strewn stones along the road.
Max decelerated again, suddenly drawn to something at a small roadside turn.
It was a large teddy bear costume, holding a colorful flag that read, “Various Teddy Bears on Sale This Weekend.”
Max’s two cherished children adored teddy bears, and by extension, he himself was quite fond of them. He couldn't help but take a few extra glances.
……
On the other side of the intersection, lush greenery flourished. Harris crouched on a bicycle, supporting himself with one leg on the ground, his eyes fixed on the teddy bear across the road, awaiting the signal.
Having practiced this maneuver several times, the pain from his fractured left arm was intense, causing him to grimace.
Enduring the pain, Harris calculated privately, “The probability of success is sixty percent. I can do this!”
At that moment, the teddy bear across the street discarded the flag.
Harris abruptly pedaled forward, gritting his teeth, and managed to utter, “For the money!”
In the face of monetary temptation, the poor can unleash unparalleled strength.
……
The vile teddy bear at the intersection, discarding the flag with its left hand, suddenly formed a fist and placed it before its fluffy belly, then began to twist its waist and thrust its hips in a frequency so exaggerated it seemed as though it intended to shoot down an aircraft from the sky.
This absurd teddy bear costume was a first for Max, nearly making him laugh out loud.
A significant portion of his attention was diverted to the tacky teddy bear.
Harris emerged from behind the right-front greenery.
Max, noticing a figure, instinctively hit the brakes.
The collision was sudden; the car jolted, and someone was thrown onto the road.
Max’s mind momentarily blanked before he snapped back to reality, cursing under his breath, unfastened his seatbelt, and hurriedly exited the vehicle to assess the situation.
The speed had not been excessive, so he perceived the situation as manageable.
An old bicycle lay askew in front of the Cadillac, its rear wheel still spinning, while the right-front headlamp of the Cadillac was shattered.
A young white man lay sprawled on the road, emitting agonized cries.
Harris was not merely acting; he was in genuine, excruciating pain, his throat raw from screaming.
Max rushed over, asking, “Are you alright?”
In so much agony that he could scarcely respond, Harris, after another query from Max, managed to pale and say, “My left arm—my left arm is broken!”
Max’s concern deepened. As he contemplated whether to flee, he noticed the vile teddy bear approaching.
Witnesses were present.
Martin picked up the small camera left on a bench by the roadside and ran towards the scene. Elena, arriving in her car, saw him and placed the camera in the passenger seat, giving him a wave.
Elena glanced at Harris on the ground and immediately drove off to a pre-arranged location to replicate the scene.
Martin removed the teddy bear’s large head and, holding his phone aloft, called out, “Mr. Max, should we call the police?”
Max, recognizing Martin, looked as though he had seen a ghost.
Harris, propping himself up with one hand, said, “Call 911, get an ambulance!”
Martin, of course, had no intention of calling 911. Holding the teddy bear’s head in one hand and his phone in the other, he asked in a tone suggesting he was a dutiful employee, “Mr. Max?”
Max was adamant about avoiding police involvement. He had regained his composure and realized that while a normal accident might be manageable, causing severe injury under the influence was a serious crime that could lead to imprisonment.
“This minor incident does not warrant public resources,” Max said, his demeanor calm and seemingly responsible. “The fault is primarily mine. I am very sorry. I will cover your medical expenses and provide compensation for lost work according to regulations.”
He glanced at the overturned bicycle: “Any additional damages will be reimbursed.”
In pain, Harris grit his teeth and said, “I am applying to college and preparing for the SAT. With this broken arm, my chances of getting into my target school have dropped by eighty percent!”
Max’s gentle demeanor faded, his gaze turning sharp as he assessed Harris’s appearance and the dilapidated bicycle. He stood up: “Very well, we’ll proceed through proper channels. You should sue my insurance company. They will handle your compensation.”
Understanding how to maximize his advantage was crucial for this impoverished individual.
Martin raised his phone and pressed the number 9, saying, “Mr. Max, I’ll call 911 for you.”
“Stop! It’s none of your business!” Max, seething with irritation, wanted to shove this idiot away. He crouched in front of Harris: “Kid, I am sincere about settling this. I am deeply sorry for what happened today, but sincerity must be mutual. I’ll show you my sincerity; you must show me yours, right?”
Having discussed Max’s psychological boundaries beforehand, Harris raised three fingers: “I am seriously injured and it will delay my exams. I need three thousand dollars! Three thousand dollars to compensate for my losses.”
Max’s genial demeanor evaporated: “One thousand dollars. I will give you no more than one thousand dollars.”
Harris turned to Martin: “Call 911 for me, thank you.”
Two cars passed by, and Max, not wanting to encounter well-meaning bystanders, mustered a forced smile: “I am a responsible person. Two thousand dollars is the maximum I can offer.”
Harris replied, “Fine, two thousand dollars, but you need to pay immediately.”
Max sighed in relief, returned to his car, and retrieved his checkbook, filling out two checks of one thousand dollars each.
Harris, having dealt with many checks at Scott’s store, confirmed their validity and accepted them.
Max opened the driver’s door, preparing to return home to make chocolate chip cookies for his children, and said to Martin blocking the way, “Could you please move aside?”
Martin’s hand suddenly reached out, closing the car door.
Max, belatedly realizing, tapped Martin’s teddy bear costume: “I have things to attend to today; I will contact you later.”
Martin, smiling, said, “Mr. Max, I am actually a well-meaning citizen who likes to help. If I don’t call 911 to seek assistance for the injured, my conscience will trouble me, and I won’t be able to sleep for days.”
Max became wary: “Kid, what are you up to? I warn you, don’t mess around!”
Martin, not wishing to delay further, directly stated, “The new boss is concerned about my work ethic and set up a small camera to monitor me. The lens is focused on this intersection.”
Max’s expression darkened, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s, scanning Martin’s entire form.
Worried that Max might have a weapon, Martin added, “The boss just passed through here and took the camera with him. If needed, I can call someone to bring it back.”
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