Crash! Boom! Bang! (Oh F***!)

Mood: Pain on the upper back, devastated feelings

Everything happened when this son was playing. Now it plays to you, reminding my desperate feelings when I saw my baby, my white knight again after it all had happened and I had been released back home.

The story begins on Saturday, 25th of February when I get a ride from Rocky, who`s going for his swimming practices in the same neighbour town where my school locates. He drops me to my school and after some time and a few starting trials, my car starts and we head first to get something to snack since I`m starwing for the reason that I had no time to eat anything before Rocky was already at my place and took me with him. Bekcy rolls nicely, although I can feel the new brake pads and wheels still need the normal wear off adjusting for themselves. I drive home, visit the food store and my parents`s place and have no problems at all. Then in the evening when I am turning my car around to get it in its shelter I have to brake pumpingly. On the second pump the pressure suddenly disappears from the pedal and it goes to the floor without a hard pressing. Oh... My... God! The brakes are broken! I top up the brake fluid pot in the car and then drive to my parents place trying not to even brush the brake pedal (of course I had to once but that was fortunately very little.) and I thank the higher forces it`s late in the evening and practicly no-one is on the road at this time anymore. Next day I do some examining with my dad before I go to watch the national championship rally-sprint that is arranged in my school town and my dad calls to a local repairing garage to get my car in. On the evening, after I`ve returned from the rally-sprint, I drive my car via a bit longer but safer and brakeless route to that garage, so that right on the Monday morning they woulb be able to start working with it.
On Monday evening my car is back after experiencing a very expensive braketube exhange operation. (They even had to remove the fuel tank to get it all done!) My mom paid it, since I didn`t have money for that (D##n dentists and their insanely high bills! Those put a student`s economy out of balance. ) and I had very hell-smelling fight going about my car and the costs with her and at the end I threw the car keys on her face/chest and told her to keep the car till I have scraped together the money I owed to her and marched away slamming the doors and telling that I would walk back to my place. My dad anyway was more co-operative and took my car and reached me rather soon after I had left their place. We also had a bit smoky discussion before I had to swallow my pride and step back into my car and drive it bavk to their place to pick up the things I had left behind when running away from the house. My car was working again just fine and wasn`t needing much anymore to be able to make it`s first try out to get through the annual inspection that is awaiting it and should be done and passed before the end of the June.

Friday, 3rd of March 2005 at 6.35 (am) my phone`s alarm wakes me up after a bit restless night and I get up to shut it down. I got up too quickly, so start to feel a bit dizzy and to calm that down I lie myself down for a moment, eyes open to prevent falling in sleep. My eyes betray me and I fell in sleep for next 40 minutes. It`s 7.15 (am), I`m still in night clothes, hair unwashed and I should be at my working place in 15 minutes. (And the driving to there takes that same 15 minutes.) I rush to wah my hair quickly, pick up my working clothes that fortunately were put avaible on the previous evening, grab a youghurt and a hamburger from the fridge, drink the youghurt and pack the burger with my working stuff and rush to dress up my winter clothes, heading like a flash to my car to get my customer as soon as possible, as little late as possible.

I`m aware of the slipperiness of the road, I don`t dare to overspeed and everything goes fine. DJ Bobo`s "Let The Dream Come True" is playing out of my cars speakers when I turn my car to roll down the slope of "church beach" and head on the ice like oh so many times before on this winter. I speed, the speedometer shows appoximately 60km/h (I think it`s appoximately 35 miles/h) but I know it fools a bit upwards. I think if I could speed up to 80 km/h (= 50 mph) my usual speed on this ice road, although I`ve driven up to 100 km/h once for a tiny moment in a test meaning on that very same ice road. I don`t dare - the road is snowy at times because the wind has pushed it from the edges of the road on the lanes, this lane has less than the opposite one and no-one has pushed the snow away with a tractor. My thoughts travel forward - in my mind I`m already rising on the opposite edge of the lake back on the official asphalt road that is dangerously partially melted in some parts. At that moment I feel like a little pull under myself, snow under and around left front wheel stole the car out of its track and changes the angle of the car on the road. Automatic, reflex-like respond comes immediately from me: Right foot off the gas pedal and softly on the brake - too hard braking can cause the locking of the tyres and the loss of the control to the car, but speed must be gotten decreased to gain back the full control before something happens. Handsturn automatically the driving wheel to correct the car back on the right lane and direction, but the car continues for a split of a second sliding sideways, right side forward until I feel rather soft but firm >>thud<< and two short words rises out of my mouth: "Oh f##k!" (To be exact, it was the Finnish languaged equivalent.) And at the moment I felt and herd the "thud" everything goes so fast that I barely notice it, and the car turns on its roof shattering the windshield in pieces and only the thought "I damaged my car!" crosses my mind. It all happened so fast that I was hanging upside down from my seat belt already at that moment whe saying the last two letters.

I remain my consciousness and sanity all the time. A voice, my own sane voice in my mind takes command and gives me orders - keeping me out of panic in the threating situation.
"Engine off!"
I turn the key immediately and shut down the car`s engine.
"Radio off!"
"Not a broken heart, now we..." DJ Bobo sings and I turn the radio`s button to turn the power off from it.
"Seatbelt open!"
I struggle for a moment but on the secont try I get it to let me loose and I fall on the ceiling of the car.
"Out!"
I reach my hand to open the driver`s door. I get it ajar, but then it refuses to open more. I flip myself 90 degrees, my feet now facing the door and kick as hars as I dare (I was still pitying the poor car for that what I was doing to it.)
"Call help!"
I dig up my mobile phone from my sleeve pocket and first one to whom called was my dad (Duh! Idiot! How he can help you when he`s 50km away from you at his working place?!) And cry hysterically on the phone "Mazda is on the roof!"
I don`t remember much from that phonecall but that I remember my dad told me NOT TO CALL to the 112 (the general emerengy number). He said he calls to mom and that they would come to help and that I should call to my customer`s son who has a tracktor so that he could come to help my car back on its wheels. No cops, no ambulance or fire department! I get fines if I call and the cops come and I loose the bonuses from my car insurance. At that time, while having the phonecall with my dad, my mind gives me a new command.
"Look around! Seach alternative exits!"
I follow the order of the voice, looking around still trying to figure out ways to get out via either of the front doors.
"Backdoor!"
I look around anf see the back door on the right side of the car has nothing blocking it, unlike the snow-blocked front doors.
"Flip the front passenger`s backrest to get on the backseat`s side!"
On the first try the backrest hits my cheek because I forgot to press myself against it but then on the second trying time I get it act in the way I want and flip myself quickly on the backseat`s side, the flipping the front passenger`s backrest back on its place while still talking on the phone with dad. I open the back door and see there`s red car coming, I think it was either an old VW Jetta or Passat but I can`t say for sure. I`m already out of the car, still on the phone when that car passes me without stoppinnng even to ask if everything is alright. Then I call to the number service asking the phone number of the person who I was hoping to be able to come to help me, but I can`t reach him. New phonecall from my dad telling mom`s got the news and will come to me soon and we still argued about calling to 112. (I wanted, he didn`t since I seemed to be O.k. so far.) I ignore my dad because I was more concerned about my car and the possible environmental threats it might cause on the frozen lake and called to the emerengy number. My inner voice was telling me to talk calmly, and I could see in front of my eyes (In figure of speech, duh!) the orange "How to call to the emerengy number" -paper I had done on the notice board of the school`s main garage and I followed its orders. Soon after that I call to my boss and tell only that to me has happened a bit "funnily" and that I can`t get to my customer, so if she could get somebody else there instead. I made accidentally a mistake calling to Vinnie II`s mom (I thought I had erased that number off from my phone`s memory!) when calling to my customer`s place and they had already seen with the binoculars that somebody was on the ice but couldn`t recognize who. I got a contact to their son via them and he promised to come to help if he just gets his tracktor running. My mom arrived soon with my sister and some time after that, when she was already calling to the emerengy center that I don`t need an ambulance, the lead car of the fire department arrives and when it has stopped still, arrives also the ambulance. It hurts to look the two tall ambulance guys in the eye, especially when they came very close to me to examine me, but I bravely tried to do my best. They asked me to walk to the ambulance and they took me on the bed, dringing me to the nearest hospital (we have only a tiny health center), 30km away. There I`m examined by a young make doctor who`s mischievous grin is jeering at me and to that my back went in such condition that I couldn`t get off the ambulance bed on my own. They lifted me on the table of the x-ray room and took pictures of my ribs and backbone but nothing seemed to be broken or cracked. I just had gotten a shock hit on my upper back that would be more or less painful for the following few days but nothing else. They forced me up on my feet and tested if I was in my full consciousness and then they said I could go to grap a coffee from the cafeteria and stay under their guarding eye for some time, so they can decide if they take me in the hospital or lets me go home.

At first it was hard even to lift a cup on my lips, but after some time and the affection of the pain killers I got, I started to move better and after boring myself for about an hour, I went to ask if I could be released to go back home. The doctor wrote me sick leave for the whole weekend but laughed when I asked if I should take a bit easier at school now. >Beep!< If a doctor and his/her family members can be sick, then a car repairer can end up to crash his/her car too, without the total lost of reputation! **sighs** Well, at least he DID tell me to take it easy for some time, but I`m still more concerned about my car and its future.

On the evening when my parents had arrived home, we dined together and went after that to look the car together. When I saw it on the back yard of a garage to where it was pulled, I bursted in tears and went through it every broken piece and part. My parents, especially my dad was saying the car is history and I couldn`t bear it. My Bekcy would be history?! Unrepairable?! No way, It`s only metal damages and broken windshield! My white phoenix would rise from his ashes to the new glory! I did this to my car - I would fix it or pay its fixing! I wasn`t ready or willing to give up from my car yet. I love my car too much to throw it away for such minor damages!
I cried, although not as much as when I had heard the news of my dear olf gray-furred grandma`s death. I cried and collapsed on my knees under the mirror on the driver`s side and my dad had to come to drag me off because they were leaving already. Yes, it`s only a pile of metal, plastic, wires and dangerous liquids, but it was still an individual and even my mom agreed with me that there never comes another exactly same kind of car, even if they would seek a new Mazda 323 automatic greared sedan from the year model 1988 and white colour for me. My car and I make a match that works. I wouldn`t want an other car instead. No Toyota, Opel, Mercedes-Benz or even other Mazda could EVER come into my heart to replace my Bekcy if this would be the time to give up. I just got the brakes fixed! And the outer layer above the rear wheels were fixed a few months ago! I had done this and that for my car and now it all was useless. That`s what I couldn`t bear. I had been concidering about giving up from it on the fall before the first major metal operation but then the more I worked with it, the harder my teacher forced and pushed me to work, the louder my heart started to beat again for my beautifying car. And of course my dad nor anybody else can understand my devotion to a tool. But does he even remember what kind of hell I raise every time when somebody tries to use my tools without my permission and especially if then treats `em poorly/returns `em in a bad shape, so why to make a difference with something more personal and individual than an ordinary screwdriver? Does he remember when I was only 10 and how I barked to hell that grumpy middle-aged man who was practicly raping our old tractor lawn-mower when I had been keeping it under my eye and it had been my duty to do the lawn mowing ever since my parents bought it? I thhough he saw already then that devotion that I give to my machines and closest people. They rise to mean a lot to me. And like Modo was ready to go to extreemes to save his bike, which is ALSO just a pile metal although equiepped with limited AI, I can`t help finding a strong alikeness between his devotion to Li`l Hoss and my devotion to my Bekcy.

At least both the doctor and the ambulance guys told me I probably avoided death by wearing the seatbelt. At lest the severe injuries and broken bones were avoided with that.