The Road Not Taken
Chapter 5 Continues…
Having run out of conversation, we were sitting in silence. My mind was thinking of work and things I needed to do on Monday. On Sundays, I would always find myself fixated on Monday. Sitting in the car in silence, having nothing to do but stare at the highway, my mind wondered aimlessly.
In the distance, I could see a semi-truck heading towards us. There were no cars in front of us. I couldn’t help but think how lucky we were, that the traffic was so light. That usually wasn’t the case, especially on weekends and in the middle of the day. The highway was normally jammed packed with semi-trucks and cars.
Staring at the countless tall trees that lined the roadside, I couldn’t believe how many had turned brown. There must be a beetle epidemic, I thought. An alarming number of the old growth pines had died. As I turned to tell Donna about the trees, I heard a loud pop. It sounded like a gun had gone off.
Out the front windshield, the semi-truck that had been traveling towards us, was leaning sharply towards the soft shoulder. I looked over at Donna, who was fixated on the truck. I wanted to say something, to do something, but I was unable to move or to speak. What crossed my mind was that the truck might roll, having hit the soft shoulder.
As we were watching the truck lean to it’s side, the trailer it was pulling behind it, suddenly swung around towards the drivers side of the cab, directly in our path. From this point on, everything happened in slow motion. Anyone who has ever been involved in a car accident, will tell you that once you go in to shock, your mind takes over. It’s really a blessing, because you are no longer in the moment. Instead you feel like a by stander, viewing the event from the side of the road, verses an actual participant in the impending crash. I glanced over at Donna, who was frantically trying to turn across the lane, out of the way of the trailer. That action, of course, left us headed towards the cab. I remember thinking, “Donna is doing her best. We’ll be okay”. Where I seemed to be disconnected from the pending crash, Donna was fully engaged. I wanted to tell her she was doing a good job, but I didn’t.
Cargo’s body was braced and leaning to the left, his ears were straight up, his eyes wide open. Cargo was fully aware that whatever was happening, it wasn’t good. I don’t think any of us made any noise, but then again – I’m not sure I would have heard anything if we did. At this juncture, my world consisted of sheer silence.
I remember seeing the cab of the truck and realizing it was the passenger’s door of our car that would be hit. The semi-truck was a light, bluish gray, which I thought was a pretty color. As we glided quietly sideways towards the cab, I decided I’d like to have a car that color someday. As I tried to visualize what my car would look like, my mind flashed to my family – to the unmade bed I left behind – to the dirty laundry left in the hamper. A thousand photos of my life danced in front of my eyes.Chapter 6
Before the impact, I closed my eyes. I braced myself for the worst, but instead, all I felt was a slight jolt. When I opened my eyes, I was fine. I wasn’t hurt and I felt no pain. I couldn’t believe it. When I was able to regain my composure, I decided I should exit the car, only my door was crushed from the impact. I don’t know how, but I found myself standing outside the car. I decided I must have climbed out of the window.
Looking over at Donna, she was slouched down behind the steering wheel. I walked around the car to help her. From her appearance, I could tell she was seriously injured. Her forehead was bleeding and she was unconscious. I reached out to touch Donna, to comfort her, but a man pushed in front of me. I was surprised by his sudden appearance and by the fact he didn’t acknowledge me. But then I realized, it was Donna who needed help. I was fine. So I stood back so he would have room.
A crowd had gathered and they were standing in the middle of the lane we had been traveling on. That was quite strange, since there were no cars in front or back of us earlier. I overheard someone in the crowd say someone had died. I remember thinking how horrible that was. I couldn’t help but wonder who had died? Then they said a dog had died, which immediately left me devastated, because I thought of Cargo.
I looked over where the crowd was standing and I saw a dog that resembled Cargo, sprawled out on the payment. For an instant I was consumed with grief. Only before I could move or say anything, to my relief, Cargo came racing around the car and jumped up on me, his tail wagging. Cargo was always such a happy dog. As thrilled that I was that Cargo was fine, I still felt badly about the other dog. All I could come up with, was that the dog must have been in the semi-truck.
The next thing I remember was an ambulance sitting where the semi-truck had been. Which was odd, since I didn’t see anyone tow the truck away. Donna was now on a stretcher and I was consumed with worry. Before I could reach the ambulance they closed the door. The crowd that had been in the middle of the road was now gone. Donna’s SUV was hooked to a tow truck and they were dragging it away. No one seemed to be concerned about Cargo or myself. Suddenly we were all alone, standing on the side of the highway.
Why in the world would they leave us here? As Cargo and I stood there watching the traffic race up and down the highway, my mind returned to Donna and the desire to be with her. I needed to be there to comfort her when she woke.
Chapter 7
I felt shell shocked. I assumed this is how soldiers felt when they experienced the horror of combat. The adrenaline rush, the conflict, the fear, the disbelief of what you had just endured. Then the unimaginable happens – life carries on around you, as if nothing had ever happened. How do you rationalize a surreal experience? What box do you put those emotions in to?
