The wind caught Cheryl's map as she tried to orient herself to the little town. She knew that almost everyone had cell phones with navigation on them, but she still had an old non-smart flip phone; the kind where you had to push the numbers several times to just get one letter when texting. Needless to say, she didn't text much either.
She had pretty much pinpointed her sister's cabin on the map; her final destination. She had been here years earlier but didn't remember all the turns. But she was very happy to almost be there. She could rest, relax, do some thinking and some non-thinking, too. She looked forward to the solitude. Except for trips to the store, she would be all alone for six wonderful months.
"Where you headed, young lady?"
She turned and saw Fred, the elderly gentlemen wearing the garb of the local supermarket in Granby, Colorado. She had just finished stuffing her Jeep with all her groceries and he collected her cart along with a couple others.
"Just up the road a bit, I think." She gave him a nice smile.
"Better get a move-on. That storm is coming in and they aren't kidding around this time. We're closing up now."
She promised she would. Cheryl knew all about storms. Her and her husband... err... ex-husband, she reminded herself, lived in New York City and traveled a lot throughout Vermont and Maine during the winters back there. Her Jeep had kept them out of lots of trouble while others sat stranded in their cars.
She started to cross the street to the hardware store for some batteries and a good lantern, when a car honked at her as it sped past her. True, she wasn't paying attention as she was about to cross the street, but that guy was doing well past the speed limit.
Idiot
, she thought.
These are mountain roads and it's below freezing.
- - -
The state trooper approached his car window.
"Sir, you've gotta turn around just like everybody else. This storm is coming in fast. Are you a resident here? I didn't think so. You've got no business being out here in a rental car without all-weather tires and chains. Now turn around and don't be stupid."
Sighing heavily, John got back in line and followed the other cars as they did a u-turn on I-70 and headed back towards Denver.
I just came from Denver
, he fumed.
I don't want to go back, I just want to go... I want to keep driving... keep moving.
Actually, he had just come from Boulder but passed through Denver on his way home to LA. His uncle's funeral had left a bad taste in his mouth and he just wanted to get out of Colorado. Susan, his wife, didn't understand why he wouldn't just fly home and not worry about all the weather. John tried to explain that he needed some alone time to think, to process his uncle's death. She acquiesced and wished him a safe trip.
It's just another lie
, he told himself.
Add that to the hundred times a day I lie to her. I didn't used to be a liar...
What he really needed was time to think. He needed to figure out his exit strategy. He just felt like he was done with Susan. It would be ugly and painful, though. He kept trying to think about how to make it the least painful for everyone.
He saw a sign for Highway 40 and pulled off the exit ramp. He checked his map program and saw it ran north and finally connected to Salt Lake City. The storm was coming up from the south, and he reasoned it wouldn't get that far north in the next few hours. He gunned the motor and headed up the 40.
His rental Ford Fusion wasn't a sports car by any means, but it did have paddle shifters and the motor had a few more horses under the hood than his Fusion back home. He braked hard into the next turn, hit the apex, and smoothly accelerated into the next one. The sheer joy and exhilaration of taking the road hard thrilled him to his marrow.
The excitement wore off after about an hour, however. He found the stress tiring, and that power slide on the last hairpin gave him quite a scare. He backed it down to just about the speed limit and enjoyed the ride.
Time passed and as the skies grew darker, John noticed the outside temp had dropped to well below freezing. He began pondering his next move, this once gorgeous country road suddenly seemed desolate, foreboding, and even threatening. Maybe he should head back the twenty or thirty minutes to Granby; snow was starting to fall and it might get dicey up here. He was pretty sure he saw a motel or an inn of some sort back there. He didn't have any cell service up here in the big lonely mountains, there was no way to tell what accommodations lie ahead.
He headed into the next turn a little quick, but no big deal. Until he hit that patch of black ice in the middle of the turn. Many of the turns had water on them, a little runoff from the day's snow melting. But this patch had frozen, and John's car lost its grip for a moment.
As he felt the car go straight when it should be turning, he turned left harder. The car slid through the ice and then caught traction on the pavement again. John struggled with the wheel, trying to correct the sudden overcorrection. He finally straightened out the Ford, but he now pointed almost perpendicular to his intended path of travel.
BAM!
The exploding airbag surprised him when he hit the tree, even as it saved his head from hitting the wheel. The sudden quiet seemed shocking, compared to the violence of just a moment ago. Or maybe it was just in his head, as he began to hear the car creaking, hissing steam, and some fluid dripping on the ground.
Gasoline!
He scrambled to extricate himself from the mangled pile of metal. He stumbled a few feet from the car and stopped, and sniffed. Satisfied that it was just the ruptured radiator dripping coolant and not a gasoline leak, he returned to the broken car.
If I was at home I would have my earthquake kit in the back, with that warm sweater, extra socks, matches, flashlight, emergency rations...
He opened the trunk and only found his small overnight bag, no supplies of any kind. Shivering, he took off his clothes down to his underwear so he could put on another layer of boxers and two more T-shirts. He figured every little bit would help. He put on both his dress shirts and struggled to fit his suit pants over his jeans.
Fuck it's getting cold! And the car won't run, and even if it did it wouldn't last long without any coolant. Fuck! Do I stay with the car or try and walk? What do I do?
He decided to stick with the car since the flurries had now turned to big, sticking snowflakes that covered the ground quickly. He dug into the trunk for the tire iron, hoping it had a sharp end on it so maybe he could cut open a seat for some foam. Maybe he could use it for warmth, or maybe even get the battery to spark and make a fire! That's it!
As he found the tire iron without any sharp edges, he hung his head in disgust. He began looking for some broken glass shards of decent size when he heard a new sound; a car!
He appreciated the black four-door Jeep Wrangler as it carefully approached the curve. With it lifted a few inches and big thirty-seven inch mud/terrain tires tucked underneath, he knew it could tackle most anything out here.
He gave a wave as it slowed to a stop in the road behind his busted up Ford. John walked to the drivers side and looked surprised when he found it to be a woman driver. And a rather attractive one at that.
"Howdy," he called as she lowered the window. "Thanks for stopping."
"Whatcha doin' out here? You know, a lot of people slow down for curves," she said with a big smile.
"Oh, you know, thought I would try a little off-roading."
She looked at his crumpled car, steam rising from the engine compartment. Then she noticed his unusual clothing arrangement.
"Yeah, I can see that. So what's your plan now? Are you wearing all the clothes you have?"
"Yeah, it's getting a bit nippy out. I was going to cut up the seats and maybe start a fire. Got any matches?"
He smiled his best smile at her.
"Nope. Guess you're outta luck..."
"Ah, well, shoot! That's okay, then. I'm sure I'll be fine. Oh hey, maybe you could let my kids know that I was thinking of them before I died. I could give you my home number..."
"I could do that. Or maybe an email would be better..."
