Too Many Signs
By: Cheryl Corbin
Tags: Short Story, Fiction, Life Lessons, Contemporary, Short Fiction

After a couple of hours patrolling the streets, turning in his badge sounded better than ever. Not that he wanted a crime wave, but some nights passed too slowly.

He stopped at a corner and saw something two blocks down. A dark figure loitering near a street sign. Frank turned the corner and drove down the street, his headlights soon illuminating the person.

The man looked up as Frank parked, then turned back to the pole. He plunked a three-step ladder against the base of it and climbed up. Frank called in his location on the radio and stepped out of the car.

“Evening, sir. May I ask what you’re doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking down this sign.” The man rummaged in the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and withdrew a hammer.

“Sir, could you come down from there for a moment?”

“What for?” The man peered over his shoulder at Frank.

“I’d like to talk to you.”

“I don’t have time for idle chatter. I have a lot of work to do.”

“Humor me, please. Come down so we can talk.”

The man muttered about young people having no sense of humor so why should he, but he stepped down from the ladder.

“Do you mind if I hold on to the hammer, sir?”

“I’m going to need it back. These signs don’t fall down by themselves.”

“I understand that, sir.” Frank held out his hand and the man placed the hammer in it.

Frank looked the man over. He wore a faded green military jacket over a t-shirt stained with grime. His eyes were rimmed with wrinkles and a straggly gray-white beard covered his chin.

“What’s your name?”

“Wayne Merrick. What’s yours?”

“Do you have any ID, Mr. Merrick?”

“Why? Don’t believe me?”

“Standard procedure.”

The old man grimaced and withdrew a grimy wallet from the pocket of his coat. He handed over a worn driver’s license.

“This license expired six years ago.”

“Don’t see me driving, do ya?”

Frank handed it back. “What are you doing tonight, sir?”

“Talking to you, of course. Proves my point, proves it exactly.”

“What point?”

The old man waved a hand at him, dismissing the question.

“What are you doing with the sign, sir?”

“Trying to take it down ’til you wanted to gab.”

“Have you taken down any other signs?”

“As many as I can. Some of the bolts are pretty rusty. Those take a lot of work.”

Frank blinked. Not many people straight up confessed to committing a crime. “I imagine so. Why are you taking down the signs, Mr. Merrick?”

“They’re useless. No point in having them around, cluttering up the city.”

“The signs tell people where to go and what to do.”

“Hogwash.”

“Excuse me?”

The old man waved a hand through the air again and Frank stepped back to avoid getting hit by the sweeping gesture.

“Look around you! Nobody knows where to go or what to do. The world’s full of people stumbling around in the dark. Everyone’s ignorant and confused. The signs aren’t doing any good!”

Frank shook his head. Another crazy person. Why did he get so many of the whackos?

“The signs are for public safety. By removing them, you increase the chance for accidents.”

“Maybe an accident is just the wakeup call somebody needs.”

“I’m going to have to take you to the station, Mr. Merrick.”

“What for? I’m just doing a public service.”

“It’s illegal to remove the signs.”

“The signs aren’t helping. If we leave them up, people will stay lost and confused.”

“People will have to figure things out on their own.” Frank placed the old man in handcuffs and escorted him to the car. “Watch your head when you get in.”

They drove for a few minutes before Merrick spoke again.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

Frank looked at him in the rear-view mirror. The man’s face was shadowed despite the numerous streetlights.

“I’ve seen crazy and confused,” Merrick said. “I was in ‘Nam.”

That explained a lot.

“I’ve seen enough crazy to know that I’m not it.”

That’s what they all said.

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re a cop. You’ve seen it.”

“Seen what?”

“People. Lost, searching, reacting. Not thinking.”

“I see crime, that’s what I see.”

“People have no hope, no direction.”

“Taking down street signs is going to give them direction?”

“The signs aren’t helping where they are. Maybe if all the signs are gone, people will figure out their own direction in life.”

“They’ll have to take their chances with the signs up.”

Merrick sighed and shook his head.

As Frank drove to the station, he started to notice all the different types of signs that lined the streets, covered the buildings, cluttered the sidewalks. Words and pictures filled the space around them. He wondered why he’d never really noticed all of the signs before.