Sally Ann S Rain Man

'I should know better than to try and change it myself," were my thoughts, 'particularly in the midst of this torrential deluge. I should have waited for help. But damn it! My cell phone battery is dead and it's not like I call for help; on the other hand how hard can it be since the instructions are printed right here on the jack-stand pouch?'

I must have run over something because I felt the front passenger tire gradually go flat. This gave me time to pull over safely to the side of the road.

I managed to get the car jacked up thinking, 'so far so good,' but not so good for very long; I was having a devil of a time loosening the stubborn, they might as well have been welded on lug nuts; so much for this great idea.

I didn't know it at the time and was told after the fact because instructions didn't say; apparently I should loosen the nuts first before I jacked it up. To add to my problems I was soaked to the skin.

I struggled for what seemed an eternity when I saw the faint illumination of what must be headlights coming from behind the top of the hill. Perhaps they had a working cell phone or maybe they could help me change the tire.

The black Jeep Wrangler 4 X 4 drove by slowly. It circled around like a dangerous beast contemplating its helpless prey before stopping directly behind my car to gloat; the jeep's headlights like cunning hungry eyes.

'A malevolent shadow figure is getting out', were my thoughts as I let my imagination fueled by fear run momentarily amuck. 'I'm not going down without a fight,' I assured myself as I tightened my grip on the tire iron, pushing my fear to one side.

"Deep was the shadow's voice as he asked, "Pardon me ma'am, do you need any help?"

It was pitch black on this long and winding deserted country road. It's true; short cuts make for long delays and now I might be paying for it, possibly with my life, but not without a fight.

I saw just two houses on the road for miles; no open fields, only trees. The sky's clouds were gray-black, blocking the ambient light of the stars the moon.

This man is dressed all in black and not because he is a minister,' were my thoughts as I tried to push my fear aside.

I could detect alcohol on his breath; an alcohol laden breath as reported by the brutalized survivors. Could it be him?

The police were looking for a violent predator who accosted several women these past months, brutally beating before raping them; cutting off their hair to take as a souvenir.

The attacks always occurred on women in deserted parking lots or broken down in the middle of nowhere and always at night; all the papers described a tall man dressed in black driving a black SUV.

"I'm fine, but thank you for stopping, Sir. I'm almost done," I lied, touching my long braid; trying to keep the fear from my voice.

"It's the," the dark shadow started to say but instead grabbed me. We ended up in the wet grass with me on top of him facing one another.

His strong arms were wrapped around me, making my weapon useless; our faces were close enough to kiss.

Smiling, he let go of me as I scrambled to my feet.

I almost tripped and fell in the water-logged grass as I dropped the wet and slippery tire to keep my balance, managing to catch the ground with my hand. The man in black got up more slowly haven taken the brunt of the fall.

I cautiously backed away from him, hesitating only to reach down to pick up the tire iron, my eyes never leaving him.......

The hood of the woman's light yellow cotton jacket had fallen back. I could see she had red hair just like Katherine...was this an omen, a portent for the seers of Delphi to delve?"

"I was going to tell you it's the wrong jack for your car. Even if it were the right one you should have a board underneath it because of the saturated ground."

"Have you been drinking?" she asked suspiciously, holding the tire iron in front of her in a death grip. The woman had courage; I had to give her that.

"Yes I'm celebrating the end of a monumental stupidity on my part. I'm celebrating reuniting with a good friend.

I'm celebrating Jim's new found love; bless them both! What a talented billiard player that feisty little red head is! Katherine is perfect for Jim.

Unfortunately we'll never know who is top dog," and he sighed, smiling.

"I live in the log house just up the road were the asphalt turns to gravel. In the future when you have the proper jack; loosen the lug nuts first before you jack it up......."

"The battery on my cell phone is dead," I said, wondering what he meant by top dog. The man certainly was in a good mood. This didn't mean I should throw caution to the wind.

"May I use yours to call my Auto Club?"

"You're most welcome."

"Excuse me?" I said, shifting the grip on the tire iron.

"I said you are welcome for me keeping from you from being hurt. My name Tom Butler and I can assure you I have only the best of intentions. It's good you are cautious but I'm not that kind of man."

"Thank you, Mr. Butler."

"You're welcome. Do you have a name?"

"My name is Doris," I replied. He smiled, crossing his arms and nodding his head, knowing I was fibbing.

"Well, Doris," he said, crouching down to look at the damage, "You're shivering; I suggest you get out of the rain."

He reached down to feel the puddle of warm antifreeze underneath the car, "It appears this jack damaged the radiator when it let loose. I would raise Cain with whoever sold you this car. You won't be driving it anywhere soon.

I always carry a 6-ton floor jack and the proper tools in the back of the Jeep. If you want, I will change the tire to save time for the tow truck driver."

"Doris Smith."

"OK then. Don't tell me your real name," He said getting a wool blanket from the rear seat of the Jeep, "wrap this around yourself. My cell phone is in the glove compartment."

He then turned on the off-road spotlights and fog lamps for more illumination, followed by the emergency flashers for safety. A predator wouldn't do that to draw attention to himself, he would want things nice and dark.

"The engine is running so why don't you sit inside and turn up the heat. Bring your tire iron with you if it will make you feel better.

Lock the doors until the tow truck arrives in case I'm some kind of crazed predator, the rapist in black the authorities are looking for. You can always run me over when you make your quick getaway."

"Mrs. McCarthy," I conceded, wrapping the blanket around me and sticking my hand out for Mr. Butler to shake, "I'm freezing and thank you, I'll take you up on your kind offer."

I felt a bit foolish for letting my imagination get ahead of me.

I noticed Mr. Butler had a large silver and turquoise ring on the middle finger of his right hand that he took off and put in his pocket as he walked away to change the tire.

I didn't get a good look at it except to see it was of Native American design.

I sat in his Jeep and watched him change the tire while I called for a tow truck. The hard rain didn't seem to bother him at all. When he finished, Mr. Butler put on his ring back on as he stood up looking into the sky.

He raised his arms above his head as if in welcome delight of celebration with the rain. He was smiling while turning a full circle before he put his arms down.

He got in on the passenger side next to me pushing his thick wet black hair back away from his face while sighing contentedly.

I could see the ring clearly now; I was right. It is very masculine and tasteful. My stepbrother is wearing my Dad's turquoise and sterling silver ring to spite me; originally it was my Granddad's.

My mother gave it to my stepbrother knowing Dad promised it to me before he died. She did it to placate her new bastard of a husband and to punish me for leaving home the way I did at sixteen; my step-dad initially taking the telephone call, calling me a whore, before handing the telephone to my mother the first time I called from New York City; but I digress.

Apparently Mr. Butler is not the man the police are looking for. He took my hand a second time in his and I let him, "Good, your hand feels much warmer and you've stopped shivering."

His large callused hand felt warm and sincere as he gently held mine. I could see amusement in his warm baby blue eyes, amusement and curiosity. I actually felt quite safe now.

"Did you get a hold of a tow truck?" He let go and reached into glove compartment to remove and then hand me his business card. It said Butler's Tire & Auto.

"Yes, one will be here soon."

"I'll make a deal with you. Have your car towed to my shop and you can use my Jeep as a loaner. I have a couch in my office to sleep on. I will have it ready sometime in the afternoon."

"I usually shop around for the best price getting several estimates first, Mr. Butler. Besides, this is my first new car and it's still under warranty. Shouldn't I take it back to the dealer while the warranty is in place?"

"Fair enough but not necessarily; have it towed wherever you like. I'll take you home and leave immediately."

"You've been drinking."

'Yes I've been drinking and you're not married. Can we compromise? Take me home and then you leave immediately."

"What makes you think I'm not married?"

"Call it intuition resulting from observation followed by deductions. If you were married you most likely would have asked to borrow my cell phone to call your husband first. If you're not married you should have said that regardless.

You are not wearing a wedding band Mrs. McCarthy, another clue. If you were married and wore one religiously, the impression left behind would be obvious."

"What if I am married but don't choose to wear one?"

"I'll bet you a dozen roses that you're not married."

"I seldom drink and I don't wager."

"I see; both laudable avoidances if one is so inclined. Perhaps we can have coffee sometime? Surely you can't object to coffee.

I imagine you know more about coffee than most people given your occupation."

Although wet, I was warm now and enjoying the friendly banter with this charming man, thinking, 'Mr. Butler is ruggedly handsome with a polite soft spoken way about him with a rich, deep voice, plus it's obvious he's a true gentleman.'

"How does my occupation make me an expert on coffee?"

"You are a waitress by profession. Two brown uniform dresses are hanging in the back of your car on a hook inside a dry cleaning bag. Your name tags are sticking out of the ashtray which indicates you most likely don't smoke.

My guess is that you are very good at what you do and will not take nonsense from anyone.

If my guess is correct, Mrs. McCarthy, for all your toughness and independence, such as attempting to change your own tire, you have a soft nurturing side as indicated by the eclectic herd of small stuffed animals covering your back dashboard."

I forgot about my uniforms and nametags; I did need a vehicle for work tomorrow morning....why not, so far he has deduced correctly.

"Touché, Mr. Butler, it's my turn. You obviously aren't married at the present time; perhaps you are divorced or a widower. You refer to your wife in the past tense and want me to drive you home. Further, happily married men usually are not out alone this late."

"Ah, but my wife might be out of town."

"Not likely since you gave me your business card and told me where you live. You would be wise to have given me an alias if you were. It will be easy enough to check up on you. Further you are not wearing a wedding band now.

May I see your left hand please?" He held it out and I held it rubbing the spot on his third finger.

"However you wore one for a long time as indicated by the faded mark on your finger. I've come to the conclusion you're not a crazed predator."

"Apparently I've met my match, Mrs. McCarthy," He said smiling, "It's been three years and old habits die hard although the love and memories remain.

Earlier today this widower decided it's time to move on. As a result of this decision three wonderful things have happened to me today.

The last wonderful thing and my pleasure is I've met you. Do you believe in fate? I ask this as a philosophical question of life in general. I've pondered fate these past years.

I haven't dated in earnest for years so please excuse my clumsy attempts with this delightful endeavor. Assuming you're not seeing someone at the present time, will you please allow me the honor of having coffee with you at a place of your choosing?"

As he said it I could see the lights of the tow truck approaching in the distance.......

Sally-Ann is a delightfully buxom, voluptuous, full-figured woman who I assumed at first to be in her early thirties.

I looked at her insurance card on the driver's side visor when I set the parking brake to get her address and real name; Sally-Ann forgot to set the parking brake too.

I'd say Sally-Ann is about five-nine in height and about one- hundred-forty in weight. Her flaming red hair was styled in a single thick braid that night, just brushing the top of her shapely ass. She has green eyes the same as Katherine, it must be fate.

I was greatly enjoying the back and forth banter we were having. Here is a woman who can match me word for word as well as think on her feet.

My gut tells me Sally-Ann is a woman who knows her own mind and won't be afraid to tell me to go to hell if I get out of line, let alone conk me on the head with a tire iron should the situation of self-defense arise; excellent I much prefer a woman with spirit...not that I would get out of line, mind you...at least not intentionally....well maybe just a little bit and then be ready to duck.

We are close enough in age to like some the same music and movies for example and we must share many the same life experiences...........

'Please allow me the honor?' I thought, 'who talks like this these days? Well, Daniel Skinner comes to mind but he is in love with somebody else, his personal secretary.

Sure we dated a few times for several months of dinner and dancing; some community theatre. It was fun while it lasted, although he never touched me in the carnal sense. He treated me more like a big sister, and that is fine given the circumstances.

That man spoiled me forever regarding how men should treat a lady.

Any man after Daniel Skinner has some big shoes to fill. I'm happy for Anita, I really am; I hardly recognized her a year after she left Zane's when we ran into each other buying groceries; besides losing weight, Anita Jones has a new confidence in her step; we decided to keep in touch and have had several lunch dates together with one coming up next week.

I'm not getting any younger though. It really got me to thinking where was I going in life.

One dark night when I least expect it a man appears out of the rain to rescue me in a manner of speaking.

Thomas Butler has a way about him that says I can hold my own against anybody. It's not so much cocky as it is confident. I've seen many a cocky man get knocked on his ass; take Jose' for example. I hope his headache lasts forever.

I wonder how Mr. Butler's nose got broke because it gives his face a rugged character. He said, "Earlier today this widower decided it's is time to move on."

What exactly does Thomas mean by that? I have a pretty good idea though. Yes, I've had relationships with both younger and older men for that matter. I've been looking for the right one since I've moved back home and apparently not in the right places.

It would be so nice to have somebody steady; to have a true fresh start with a man who actually loves me for me; a man to share my life with.

The fact that Mr. Butler was married once is a plus; somewhat tamed and domesticated but not too tame I hope.

Fate, I don't know; on the surface we could be a good match....we'll see.'

"I'll have coffee with you two weeks from today. That's my answer Mr. Butler."

"As you wish, Mrs. McCarthy, where may I call on you?"

The tow truck driver impatiently tapped on the hood of the Jeep to get our attention. I had forgotten all about him.

I rolled down the window and handed the tow truck driver Mr. Butler's business card, "I'm sorry for making you wait. Please tow my car to this address. My new mechanic will see to it," and I rolled the window back up annoyed at the intrusion.

"Am I your new mechanic, Mrs. McCarthy?"

"Yes, and you may dispense with the Mrs."

"Then it's Ms. McCarthy?"

"Miss McCarthy, not Ms. and I've never married."

"You've broken many hearts no doubt."

"That definitely is a pick-up line."

"Forgive me; I got carried away with the moment."

"Think nothing of it."

"May I call you Sally-Ann?"

"How do you know my name is Sally-Ann, Thomas?"

"Lucky guess, perhaps."

"You must have looked at my insurance card when you set the parking brake. Did I forget to do that too?"

"Yes, we are both guilty as charged. My friends call me Tom."

"Not yet, at this juncture you are still my auto mechanic."

"I see, Miss McCarthy, you're going to make me earn that privilege."

"Of course, it will be fun."

"I concur, and I'm sure you worth it. What will you call me?"

"I will call you Mr. Butler as we've only just met."

"Yes, as propriety dictates, Mr. Butler it is."

"I work at Zane's truck stop, Sir. Are you familiar with it?"

"I know where it's located, yes."

"Will you kindly deliver my car there when it's fixed, please?"

"Now you're talking a bit old fashion. What do you attribute this too, Miss McCarthy?"

"It must be the rain, kind Sir. In everyone's life some rain must fall....."

I arrived at work the next morning to find Zane, six waitresses; Doris, Mary, Donna, Lily, Susan, Denise plus a bouquet of four dozen roses in red, yellow, white and pink waiting for me.

The card said, "Miss McCarthy. Since you never wager I bet myself double or nothing and won. I doubled-down and won again; roses for a lovely lady, Sincerely, Your new auto mechanic, Mr. Butler."

Nobody sent me flowers at work before; goodness, roses are my favorite flowers. I had to explain to the girls and Zane who Mr. Butler is and how I met him. Doris dubbed him my Rain Man.

True to his word, Mr. Butler personally delivered my car to Zane's. Things couldn't have worked out better because he walked through the door just before I started my meal break in the back room.

Doris came to get me and was all smiles, "Sally-Ann, your Rain Man is here. Ask him for me if there are any more hunks like him at home."

I found my new mechanic standing by the cash register talking to Zane. I can tell Zane liked him just in the relaxed manner he was standing, that and they were talking about fishing; Zane is an ardent fisherman.

Zane is very protective about his employees, especially the women. That and the fact that Tom's dinner this day was on the house, compliment of Zane.

Zane nodded his head and winked at me as he passed us going into the kitchen.

We really are like a big family; this is main reason I work here, and the picnic/pig roast Zane hosts for us every September at Godfrey's Pond is an event not to be missed; the restaurant is closed for the weekend.

When he saw me Mr. Butler excused himself and walked over to meet me half-way.

"Here are the keys, Miss McCarthy," as we exchanged keys, "Your car is fixed, you have the proper jack, a new radiator, a new tire and there will be no charge. May I see a menu please?"

"How did you manage that, Mr. Butler?" I asked as I handed him a menu, "Is the corner booth near the kitchen to your liking?"

"Yes, the corner booth will be fine, and to answer the other question; your car dealer paid for the parts, my labor and provided the proper jack after a little arm twisting. I'm an AAA approved and Certified Garage and it won't void your new car warranty to have it serviced with me."