caroline.jensen
@carolinejensen
10/17/17 09:28:03PM
5 posts

            I noticed him early on. The black truck behind me on the overpass. He was too close. I was doing five over, so what was his problem?
            He pulled out to pass. Then he cut me off. Swooped in front of me. I had to break. Jesus Christ, I hate it when people do that! Within the confines of my car I called him a few choice names.
            I turned off the overpass almost immediately behind him, wondering where he’d gone. I could see down the ramp as it curved north. Man, he must have been going.
            Then something came into my right peripheral. The black truck. Wheels still spinning up in the air. He’d gone through the guardrail and rolled it.
            I stopped on the shoulder and made my way down the short embankment.
            There he was, upside down, still confined in his seatbelt, just hanging there, suspended.
            He saw me coming.
            “Help me,” he said weakly.
            When I got about a foot from him, I got down on my haunches. “You cut me off,” I said.
            “What?”
            “You cut me off – back there on the overpass.”
            “Sorry.”
            “Are you?”
            “Huh?”
            “Are you sorry?”
            “I – I was in a hurry. Important…”
            “Well, it’s not so important now, is it? Looks like you’re not going to make it.”
            I took out a cigarette and lit it inhaling slowly, deliberately, deeply, then blew the smoke in his face.
            “Can you get me out of here?” His voice was barely a whisper.
            “Where did you get your fucking driver’s license? From a popcorn box?”
            “Can you just dial 9-1-1 for me, please?” he asked sheepishly.
            “Don’t have a phone.” I took another drag.
            “I do. I do. It must be here somewhere.” He looked around. “There it is!” He said it with the excitement of a child who had just found an Easter egg. He reached for the cell phone laying on the headliner. “I – I can’t reach it. I think my wrist is broken. Could you…”
            “Sure.” I flicked my smoke towards the back of the truck.
            “I – don’t –think – you – should – throw – your – cigarettes – there. – The – gas – tank – has – a - leak…” he labored.
            “Ooooh,” I said, as if I had just touched a hot iron. “You probably should have got that fixed.”
            I reached into the cab and retrieved the cellular phone being careful not to touch him. The whites of his bulging brown eyes were punctuated with broken blood vessels. His face had reddened from being upside down. He looked like a bulldog caught in a choke chain. “Wearing your seatbelt, I see. Good idea for a guy that drives like you. Protect yourself, to hell with everyone else, eh?”
            “I think I’m going to throw up,” he said, swallowing.
            “I wouldn’t if I were you. It’ll get in your eyes and you won’t be able to see. Yuk.”
            “Look, I’m sorry about that back there – cutting you off. I don’t think I did, but – ”
            I was losing what little patience I had. “Oh, come on now, you know you did. You did it on purpose.”
            “I didn’t see you. Honest to God.”
            “You didn’t see my lime green Volkswagen bug? What are you, blind?”
            “Lime green?” His face looked puzzled, as if he was trying to place it.
            “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. They don’t come in lime green. Painted it myself. Took seventeen cans of spray paint. Well, sixteen and a half – I got some left over for touch ups.” I took another drag off my cigarette and blew it in his face.
            “Look, I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again. I can’t feel my legs. Could you please help me?” He was begging now.
            “Not just yet. I want to tell you about my day. I had a miserable fucking day and you didn’t make it any better. My boss chewed me a new asshole because I didn’t have a report done on time. Then I spilled hot coffee on my favorite blouse, see?” I pulled at it to show him the stain. “Do you know how to get this out? Anyway, doesn’t matter. I think it’s set in there for good. Anyway, the bastard fired me – my boss, that is. You’re bleeding.” I said. “You should apply pressure to that.”
            “The phone…” He started to cry.
            “Oh, yeah.” I took it out of the breast pocket it had put it in and flipped it open. Then I flipped it shut and heaved it about fifty feet away from the truck and started to walk away.
            He was trying to get out now, heaving his body against the driver’s door.
            “Help me. Can you just give me my phone?” His voice was cracking through the sobs.
            I turned around. “Where are your manners? You didn’t say please.”
            “Please…please…”
            “Too late now.”
            “Look, miss, I’m starting to hurt real bad...”
            “Oh, stop your whining. Ten minutes ago you were macho man in a black truck and now look at you. Tch. Tch. Tch.”
            I started walking back up the hill.
            “You can’t just leave me here, you crazy bitch!” His voice was cracking with panic now, satisfying to my ears. I smiled to myself.
            I turned around. His face had taken on a grayish hue. I’d seen that color before. The color of ashes from paper burned in the fireplace. “What did you call me?”
            “Look, I’m sorry, sorry about everything, but you can’t just leave me here. I could…I could die.”
            “Yes, you could. You definitely could. There will be one less jerk on the roads, won’t there?” I kept walking         
            As I climbed back up the embankment I could hear him pleading with me, his voice getting weaker the further away I got.
            I looked up as an airplane roared over head. I could hear something else; an explosion, maybe? I could see yellow reflected in my sunglasses. Looked like flames. Of course, it could have just been the setting sun.
            I stopped for a brief second, but did not turn around. I took a deep breath and couldn’t help smiling. I had done the world a favor. It felt good.
 
            When I got home my cat was there to greet me as usual. “Oh, Miss Kitty, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” As she wound her furry self around my legs I proceeded to tell her all about it.

updated by @carolinejensen: 11/24/19 06:16:51PM