Beyond Blame

Chapter 8. Trade-offs

It took Bill a moment to realize that a policeman was motioning him to approach. Puzzled, he took the earbuds from his ears and walked to the sidewalk where the officer, who was very tall, and his much shorter partner were standing.

“Can I see some I.D.?” the tall one said in an unmistakably Brooklyn accent.

“Why?” asked Bill.

“You see that road right there?” asked the officer, pointing to the one that Bill had just crossed. Bill nodded. “You see that light right there? You, Sir, were observed jaywalking. I.D., please.”

Although Bill had always lived just north of the city, he had spent all of his working life in Manhattan. His commute, with the exceptions of weather-related delays, was timed and polished to a shine, putting him in his office at 7 o’clock sharp every weekday morning. The tail end of his trip to work involved a walk from the subway station toward this street. Without thinking, he would look around and cross the street if there were no cars, regardless of the traffic light’s color.

Bill often joked that you could always spot tourists in New York—they were the ones standing at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the silhouette to light up white on the traffic signal, while the true New Yorkers rushed right past them. One of the reasons that Bill commuted so early was because the city at that time was blissfully empty of tourists, and he could move at native New Yorker speed.

Bill took his thick leather wallet from his back pocket and handed ...