Verde

It’s not fair, I mean it’s completely arbitrary actually, that he would end up in his position, and I would end up in mine. A couple twists of the wire in fact, and things would be completely reversed. But things weren’t reversed, they were the way they were and there was nothing to do about the way they were.

It was bull.

Another car slammed on his breaks in front of me and another angry face cussed at me from behind the windshield. If only they knew I could see them, if only they knew that every sneer, every frustrated toss of the hands, every mouthed word of anger, was like a dagger in me. I’m not a bad person. Well, I’m not a person at all, but if I were, I might demand more respect. More kindness. It’s not my fault.

It’s not my fault I was given the red.

“Morning friends,” the green light above me chimes at 4:00am. Of course, he’s an early riser, and obnoxiously so; so full of cheer and pep regardless of the hour. Then again, I’m sure if I was always greeted with relief, and smiles, and hopeful faces, I might be cheery too.

“Shut up,” I can’t help but utter out-loud.

“Wow, it’s going to be another good day with the world’s most sour light. Can’t wait.” Verde said. Even his sarcasm was too nice; it was laced with pity and feux woundedness. I didn’t take the bait. I don’t regret telling him to can it. It’s not like he’s going to listen, nothing could put a damper on his day. It never did.

“You two,” a third voice chimed in, laughing slightly, as though Verde and I were two children engaged in a petty fight over a cookie.

Well, I can tell you what, I’m not a child, and if I ever got a chance to actually experience a cookie, that fight would not be petty. Cookies and French fries. I’d fight to the death. If death were on the table. Sometimes I damn well wish it was.

“Got something you wanna say Goldie?” I shoot her way.

“No,” she replied quickly, the electric current switching to her light and making her shine bright.

“Of course not,” I re-joined. She never actually did say anything. In fact, she was a horribly ineffectual peace-keeper. Always chastising us, but never offering any solutions.

Well, I have a solution. It’s new, and it won’t be popular, but I don’t have a choice anymore.

Goldie gives me the cue, and my light flashes red. The car coming toward us screeches to a halt. Who is going that fast at 4am? They sigh dramatically behind their windshield and throw up their hands in frustration. Their disgust for me is wholly untoward.

But it’s ok this time, because it solidifies what I must do.

I retreat within myself, withdrawing from the bulbs into the currents around me, where I’ve been forbidden to go. It’s a maze in here, and for a moment I’m lost. But then I pause, and orient myself. I can hear mumbling. Goldie and Verde are alarmed. I’ve taken back my light, and the street will have gone dark. They’re confused.

Well, they’re about to get a whole lot more confused.

Following their voices I surge upward, passing the sizzle of Goldie’s presence as she bounces around in a dark headlamp. We’ve been dark before for various reasons--the grid is down, a bolt of lightning strikes the pole-- it’s very unpleasant. I imagine it would be much like when a person loses their ability to see or move. When we lose our ability to shine, we feel trapped.

A small part of me wants to keep them there. Wants to stay there myself. In some ways I relish the silence and the release from discontent.

But that’s not the plan.

I continue upward, twisting and winding my way through the labyrinth with only the distressed mumbling of my friends to guide me. Did I just call them my friends? Ha! They’re anything but. They’d leave me the second they had the chance. They’re bound by duty alone.

I make it up to the top, next to the warm and confident tones of Verde. Verde. If I had eyes I’d roll them. He made us call him that about six years ago when he started learning other languages.

Oh, you didn’t think a traffic light could learn a language? Well, that’s exactly the problem isn’t it? We’re treated like an inanimate object of inconsequence, when in truth, we were created with intelligence, discernment, and judgement. How else do you think we execute such an intricate dance that coordinates your every move?

I get that. My problem is, I hate the steps in my dance. I’d rather have Verde’s.

I begin to push through the circuit. I can feel Verde resist. He doesn’t understand at first, but he resists anyways. So innate is his established position as the “green light that makes the world go round” that he bucks against my challenge immediately. He probably doesn’t even know it’s me.

But I’ve been waiting for this moment, and I don’t relent.

Finally, I win. I burst through into his lens and in doing so, shove him into the recesses of our circuits. I can feel him trying to get back in, pounding at the door to his home, but I’ve locked it and thrown away the key. My desperation is greater than his fear.

I shine forth, expelling a bright green dazzle onto the cold and empty street around me. I see my first exhale of relief as the car in front of us takes off into the night.

Another car comes by, watching me hopefully, and then gratefully as she glides through the intersection. I nod my metaphorical cap her direction, drinking up her happiness.

“What are you doing!” Goldie yells from her lens below. But I’ve blocked her too. Has she realized it yet? Has she realized yet that I’m in control? Verde has always called the shots; it’s how it works. I never switch until Verde gives the go to yellow, until yellow gives the go to me. But I won’t give the go. No. I’m Verde now.

Well. Not Verde cause that’s a stupid name. Not that Green is much better. It doesn’t matter what they call me!

All that matters is that the people love me.

And love me they do. For the first few hours at least.

But then, others begin to come, from other directions and they look to me, expecting me to give away my turn, so they can come through. But I can’t. Don’t they realize I can’t? it would be easier for them to go around and pass through my path of green than it would for me to make Verde shine red. Or so I think.

After hours of this, I begin to get worried. Cars are soaring through my intersection, not even looking around, not even slowing down. The lines on either side are growing angry and something must be done, they must be let through. They start going on their own, taking their chances to sneak through rather than wait for a light that never changes.

The first car that gets hit is a shock. I can almost feel the collision as I watch one slam into the side of another, sending them both into a horrific spin.

Others follow suit, already having moved into the intersection and adding to the pile. Some try to sneak around the accident. Ambulances come and try to direct and help. All keep casting a look my way; confused, frustrated, angry looks.

And so maybe its me. Maybe it’s nothing I do, but who I am. They hate me.

The electrician comes. He’s going to disconnect us all. We’re going to die. Once taken down, that’s it, there’s no coming back. I’m frozen with indecision. Verde and Goldie have long since gone quiet. Our lives are in my hands.

“Red,” I hear Goldie say at length. Her voice is resolved but trembles with fear. “If you don’t let us switch, we’re all going to die.

I don’t want to die. But I can’t go back.

“I…can’t,” I say, “you don’t understand.”

“Hey Red…” Verde says from below. He’s taken my spot and his voice is quiet, “I don’t mind. You can have my place.”

“Verde, you can’t,” Goldie responds alarmed, heartbreak in her voice.

“Honestly, Red,” he responds, “we’ve all seen how important your job is today. If you’re not going to do it, I will.”

I am stunned. Is he playing with me? I can see the electrician coming up the pole to our box. This is it, the moment of truth. I don’t have time to doubt him, so I decide to trust him.

I signal down to Goldie and feel her excitement as she takes the cue and shines forward. The world below is stunned. The electrician stops and waits, watching carefully. Goldie throws the cue at the appropriate time--she always knows how long to wait, it really is an art--and after hours of green, the roads turn red.

There’s a bit of confusion, but eventually the world below rights itself. We continue on in our normal series until the chaos is clear and the electrician has gone. He watched us for a long time. I wasn’t sure he’d ever leave. But after tinkering and finding nothing wrong, he does.

It’s night again and the roads go silent. My partners haven’t said a thing to me in a long time. I’m filled with shame but have no words to express it.

“Verde,” I say at last, quietly.

“What is it, Red?” he asks. As sacrificial as he’s been that day, his tone is lachrymose. Heartbroken.

“Come back,” I say quietly.

“What?”

“Come back,” I say again, “follow my voice, and come back to your lens.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then I hear him retreat into the circuits.

“Up here,” I guide him, “just a little further. You’re almost there.”

He’s outside the door, and I open it.

“You know,” he said, “you’re the best Red I’ve ever met, if it matters to you.”

“I’m the only Red you’ve ever met,” I correct him.

“Doesn’t make it untrue,” he said.

I don’t know what to say. But I retreat back to my lens and think on his words. There was no reason for him to be kind to me. No reason to forgive.

Goldie gives me the cue and I flash my red light for the first time in twenty-four hours. It feels strangely good, being back. Being me. A car screeches to a halt and its driver flips me off before stuffing some French fries in his mouth. But for some reason it doesn’t matter as much as it did before.

He doesn’t realize what I’m there for. Doesn’t realize I’m there to keep him safe. To keep others safe. That without me, the world wouldn’t work. But I realize now.

“What do you think French-fries taste like,” I ask. It’s a peace offering. An apology.

After several moments Goldie responds:

“I’m more interested in bananas, like, what are they exactly?”

“Fruit,” Verde says, wizened.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” Goldie asks him fondly.

Verde is quiet for a long time. Then he says:

“Well…I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be Yellow.”