The Ambulance and the Talking Lights

Chapter 1: The Red Light Speaks

The car idles at a red light on an empty street at 4 a.m. ⟨Character 1⟩ has a drumstick in one hand and a napkin in the other.

⟨Character 1⟩: Come on. I’ve got a deploy at six. This light is slower than my first website.

red light: You can hear me? Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been buzzing for hours. Listen, there’s an ambulance lost nearby. It’s been circling the same three blocks. The driver can’t find the hospital. I can see it from here. Please, you have to help.

⟨Character 1⟩: I’m imagining things. I skipped lunch and dinner. That’s it. Traffic lights don’t talk. I’m going to finish this chicken and go home.

red light: You’re not imagining it. I’m the light. And that ambulance is running out of time. The patient inside needs a hospital now. I can’t move. I can only change colors. But you can drive. Please.

⟨Character 1⟩: Why me? There are other cars. Taxis. Night buses. Call one of them. I’m not a taxi. I’m a software guy. I build websites. I don’t rescue ambulances.

red light: There are no other cars. You’re the only one on this road. And you can hear me. That’s not nothing. Turn left at the next street. I’ll blink green three times to show you the way. Go now. Please.

⟨Character 1⟩: Fine. But I’m eating my drumstick while I drive. And if this is a prank, I’m going to find whoever rigged this light and make them regret it.

⟨Character 1⟩ takes a bite, shifts into gear, and turns left. The light blinks green three times.

⟨Character 1⟩: Okay, light. I’m moving. But you better not make me miss my deploy. Where’s this ambulance now?

red light: Two blocks ahead. It’s stuck at the yellow light. That one’s been malfunctioning all night. It’s panicking. You’ll have to calm it down. It responds to kindness. And a little flattery. Go. I’ll be here if you need me.

⟨Character 1⟩: Panicking yellow light. Of course. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my night.

⟨Character 1⟩ drives on, drumstick in one hand, steering with the other. The red light behind dims to a soft glow. Up ahead, a yellow light blinks fast and frantic.

Chapter 2: The Yellow Blink and the Blackout

⟨Character 1⟩ pulls up to the downtown intersection. The yellow light is blinking fast, on and off, like a nervous heartbeat.

yellow light: I can’t do it. I can’t hold green. I’ve been blinking for forty minutes. The circuit is loose. Everyone’s yelling at me. I’m a yellow light. I’m supposed to warn people. I’m not supposed to fix ambulances.

⟨Character 1⟩: Hey. Hey. Slow down. I’m not here to yell at you. I’m here because a red light sent me. Look, I can get you a new circuit board. I order parts for my office all the time. I’ll put it on my company card. Tomorrow. But right now I need you to point me at that ambulance.

yellow light: You’d do that? A new board? The good kind with the copper contacts? Not the cheap one that corrodes in the rain?

⟨Character 1⟩: The good kind. Copper contacts. And I’ll even file the paperwork so the city pays me back. Maybe. So where’s the ambulance?

yellow light: It went down Fulton Street. But there’s a problem. There’s a blackout coming. I feel it in my wires. Whole block’s going dark. Only one green light will have power. She’s down there. You’ll have to run.

⟨Character 1⟩: A blackout. Great. My favorite. I’ll add it to the list.

⟨Character 1⟩ parks the car and runs on foot toward Fulton Street. The streetlamps click off one by one behind him. Ahead, a single green light glows in the dark.

green light: Oh no. Oh no. Everyone’s gone dark. I’m the only one left. I can hold green for a few more minutes, but I can’t guide an ambulance alone. I can’t see around the corner. I can’t see the hospital. I’ m just one light.

⟨Character 1⟩: Then we don’t do it alone. Look, I’ve got a flashlight on my phone. You blink the pattern, I wave the flashlight down the street. We pass instructions light to light. Only you’re working, so you’re the boss. Tell me what to blink.

green light: You’d wave? For me? Okay. Okay. Three short flashes means slow. One long flash means turn. I’ll blink it. You relay it. We can do this. I think we can do this.

⟨Character 1⟩ stands in the middle of the dark street, phone flashlight raised. The green light blinks three short flashes. ⟨Character 1⟩ waves three times toward the distant corner of the street.

Chapter 3: Saving the Ambulance

The dark street is empty except for ⟨Character 1⟩, waving a phone flashlight. The green light blinks one long flash. Down the block, a pair of headlights swings around the corner.

⟨Character 1⟩: Come on! One long flash means turn! Turn left! It’s the lost ambulance! It found us!

green light: It sees your flashlight. It’s turning. Keep waving. Three short flashes, slow down. There’s a pothole. I don’t want it to bounce the patient.

⟨Character 1⟩ waves three short flashes. The ambulance slows. It weaves around the pothole and rolls toward the hospital entrance. The green light holds steady.

⟨Character 1⟩: You’re doing it! The talk is working! The traffic lights and me, we’re talking it in! Left again! The hospital is right there!

green light: It’s pulling in. It’s stopping. I can see the doors. Thank you. Thank you for listening to a traffic light. I’m going to rest now.

Two paramedics jump out. They lift a stretcher from the back and wheel it through the hospital doors. One of them turns and nods at ⟨Character 1⟩.

paramedic: Hey! You the one with the flashlight? That was some flagging. The ambulance was lost for twenty minutes. How’d you know where to send them?

⟨Character 1⟩: I just listened to the lights. The green one did most of the work. And the red one. And a yellow one that’s getting a new circuit board tomorrow.

The green light flickers three times, soft and warm, and then dims to a faint glow. The street goes quiet.

⟨Character 1⟩ walks home as the sky turns gray. He leaves the car parked. He is tired and hungry, but his steps are light.

⟨Character 1⟩: A girl who can talk to traffic lights. That’s what the paramedic called me. Weird. I kind of like it.

Inside his bedroom, ⟨Character 1⟩ sleeps on top of the covers, drumstick gone, phone on the nightstand. Outside the window, the city’s lights blink softly, one by one going green.