© 2005 by Larry Powers



“Where are we going?

She was looking out the side window, straining to see, as she whispered the words. Her breath was creating a fog on the inside of the glass.

“Just sit back and you’ll see.”

As I answered her question, I was wondering why she was still whispering. Who could possibly overhear?

The old car grabbed another gear as we slowly climbed the hill. Behind us all was quiet. There were no signs of headlights which meant nobody was following us. I was leaning forward in an attempt to see more clearly into the rearview mirror. She must have noticed.

“Do you think they miss us yet?” She still whispered and was looking over her left shoulder into the back seat.

“I don’t know for sure. I would assume by now they would have noticed something.”

We finally topped the hill in our slow moving Buick. Everything out in front of us was totally dark. There were no stars in the sky tonight and the moon was covered with clouds. Drops of rain were already starting to dampen the windshield. I started the windshield wipers but all they did was smear the raindrops, so I turned them off.

Except for the slight puttering noise from our leaky exhaust and an occasional hooting owl, it was a very quiet night. On the horizon, off to the east, were glimmering signs of lightning, but not enough to help light our pathway. The storm was far enough away that we could hear no thunder. I turned off the blacktop highway and onto the old dirt road.

As I pulled on to the road, it seemed very rough tonight. We had been down this route many times in the past, and I knew it like the back of my hand. It had been in need of repair for several years. Every now and then, Jimmy Taylor would bring out his tractor with the blade on front and grade it down a little, but the repairs never lasted too long. Tonight, it appeared to be bumpier than normal.

“Turn your head lights on dear.” She was leaning forward with her hands on the dashboard and gazing through the windshield.

What in the world was this woman talking about? On a night like this, how could I possibly see anything if my headlights were off. I glanced ahead to make sure they were on. Why was I even checking? Of course they were on!

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked the question but I didn’t suspect that there was anything wrong with her. It was just that her question bewildered me. She whispered something in response, but I could not hear her, so I repeated my question as I leaned over toward her.

“Be very careful dear. It is so dark out here tonight.”

The car suddenly veered to the right as it bounced out of a pothole. I looked over to see if she was affected by the jolt. She appeared to be free of injury and was sitting back comfortably in her seat now.

“Are you okay, honey?” I was looking at her as I asked the question and she nodded her head gently in response.

I decided it was time to start paying more attention to my driving. The Buick was not taking the potholes as well as it did at one time. Fortunately I had new tires but the suspension and shocks were aged and worn and offered little resistance.

I checked my rearview mirror again; still nobody coming. I think we made a clean getaway. I looked away from the mirror to check on my wife one more time. She appeared to be riding comfortably now. Just as I looked away from her, the car went into another pothole. This time the jolt was so hard I felt my head graze the ceiling of the car.

Because the road conditions and visibility were so bad, I reduced speed. No sense to be in a hurry now. The storm to the east appeared to be closer. The lightning looked to be a little brighter and I thought I could hear faint sounds of thunder now. The rain was still only a sprinkle, just enough to keep the windshield spotted. Between the bugs and the smears, it was difficult to see through it. The windshield washer thing had quit working a few years ago and I never got around to repairing it.

Thump! Thump!

This time the jolt veered us to the right as I felt the car run off the road. I pulled the steering wheel hard to the left and felt the tires come safely back to the surface of the road. I thought of finding a safe place to pull over and park. I was getting very weary.

I looked over to check on my wife and as I did, the car went into a very deep pothole. This time my head slammed against the side window frame. I steered the car back onto course and quickly glanced at my wife. She had not moved or complained during the ordeal; but I was hurting now.

I felt a sharp pain go down my left arm and I was having trouble handling the steering wheel. The Buick was becoming increasingly hard to steer, and I needed to stop and rest. I desperately needed to take a break.

We were all alone on this old country road, so I didn’t think that it would present any danger to stop. I steered the car to a halt, put on the emergency flashers and unbuckled my seatbelt. My head was throbbing, my left arm was hurting and I felt very fatigued.

As I slid over in the seat next to my wife, I took her hand in mine. It felt cool; but it was starting to get chilly outside. I turned up the heater and snuggled up close to her. After I rested for a bit, we could be on our way again.

I noticed the storm was getting closer now and the drops of rain on the windshield looked to be bigger. It was starting to rain harder. I said a quick prayer as I held my wife’s hand and then leaned my head onto the back of the seat. Just a short nap and we could head home.

****************

The tow truck driver pulled up to the road-closed sign just ahead of me, so I followed him off the blacktop highway onto the old path. A few years back, this path had been a thoroughfare, but when they put in the new blacktop a half mile to the north, they closed it. We continued past the sign, weaving our way through a maze of potholes.

The muddy road was very slippery in places and I was thankful I was driving my four wheel drive vehicle. In trail of the tow truck, I bounced across the slimy path for about three miles. We came to a stop at the Turtle Creek crossing. I gasped as I glimpsed Dad’s old Buick, stranded in the middle of the creek.

A police car and an ambulance were parked along the pathway. I drove my vehicle around them to be out of the way, got out of my car and headed toward the creek. As I walked behind the ambulance, I peeked in the window and noticed two covered bodies. I paused, took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I turned away and started down to the water’s edge.

“I’m really sorry, Sam.” The voice was that of Sheriff Bill Watts, my old high school buddy and long time friend.

My eyes watered with tears at the sound of his voice. Bill came over and put a big arm around my shoulders. Now the tears flowed down my cheeks as I tried to stifle my sobs. We stood together on the banks of Turtle Creek, staring at Dad’s Buick.

The tow truck driver was hooking onto the car. As we watched in silence, he waded out of the stream, stepped into the tow truck and began to pull the Buick out of the creek. Water rolled from the interior and trunk as the vehicle rolled out of the water.

“Good thing it didn’t rain too much last night. The creek didn’t rise at all. It’s not even waist deep. It could have been a real mess out there.”

Bill wasn’t talking small talk. He was much more than an old high school friend. We attended church together for many years and have remained close friends. He was there when my wife, Janie, passed away six years ago, and he had supported me as I watched her body dwindle away with the cancer treatments.

As a close friend, Bill understood exactly what I needed to know as we stood side by side on the banks of the creek. Without expressing the words, he was saying my parents had not drowned.

“How’d he get her out of the hospital, Sam?”

As I pondered Bill’s question, my thoughts went to my Dad and Mom. I glanced toward the ambulance, which was now pulling away and heading toward the main road.

Mom had surgery last month to remove throat cancer, and she had still struggled to talk; her voice was very raspy. Her health had worsened and there was talk of putting her in a nursing home, where she could be accessible to medical care. Dad and Mom had been so close over the sixty plus years of their marriage, and Dad couldn’t stand the thought of having her in a nursing home.

“I don’t really know Bill. I was there all morning and nobody seems to know how he got her out. He said something to me last week about wanting to get her back to the old homestead, but I didn’t take him serious.”

“Didn’t he know that place is all boarded up now?”

I didn’t know how to respond to his question, so I didn’t. Bill didn’t press the issue and we stood there silently for a few minutes.

“They were cuddled up in the front seat together, Sam. They were holding hands; the same way they always did when they prayed together in church.”

“Yeah, Dad did like to pray, Bill.” My eyes filled with tears again as I recalled all the times I watched Dad and Mom pray together over the years.

“Called your brother and sister yet?”

“Yeah, John and Marla are driving in from Hayes. They should be here in a couple hours. Candice is catching the first available flight; she’ll be in sometime this afternoon.”

“Sam, I’ve got to get back to the office; got a lot of paper work to do. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, Bill. I’m just going to stay out here for awhile.”

Bill and I gave each other a big bear hug, and Bill walked over to his police vehicle. He yelled a goodbye and waved as he drove away.

When Bill was out of sight, I sat down by the creek and began to throw rocks into the water. I was all alone now and it was very peaceful here. As I threw rocks, I recalled all the times my brother, John, and I had sat here doing the same thing. We grew up here, just one mile up this roadway. Dad and Mom had bought the old place not long after they eloped and married. After many years of living out here, they decided to move to town when Candice left for college.

I sat in silence for a while before deciding I had better get back to town.

As I pulled my four wheel drive onto the muddy pathway, I gave one last look into the rearview mirror as I blinked the tears from my eyes. I squirted some washer fluid to clean my windshield and began to focus on the road ahead.

John and his wife Marla would be getting into town any time, and it would be so good to see them. We would all three ride out to the airport later to pick up Candice. As I pulled back onto the blacktop highway, I found myself smiling as I thought about our sister Candice. I did not envy the hospital administrators the task of explaining to her how Dad had managed to get Mom out of that hospital!

My thoughts returned to Dad and Mom. As the tears flowed down my face, I remembered what Dad told me. He wanted to get Mom back to the old homestead.

Over the years I watched them pray and witnessed their faith in God. They lived what they taught their children. They instilled those beliefs in us.

I believe Mom made it home. I think they arrived there together.

~~~~ The End ~~~~

HEY! and don't forget to e-mail Larry Powers if you have a comment!


larryp10113@yahoo.com



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