We were out in the back yard with the dogs, waiting on Ducky to relieve herself one last time before her bed time. Suddenly, from the front of the house a series of bangs and then deafening silence….
I said to Sam “Someone’s had an accident. Go see what happened. Give me Ducky’s leash, I’ll get the dogs inside.” I got the dogs in the house, put Ducky in her crate, grabbed my cellphone, and went out the front door.
One of the two cars involved was nowhere to be seen — the driver had taken off — the other car was turned and facing the property line between our house and our neighbor’s house. Sam was talking to the young lady in the driver’s seat. She was alone in the car. Cars were taking turns going around the back of the car. Real smart, huh?! A few drivers used the brains God gave them and turned around in the driveway of the house across the street or our neighbor’s house.
I got the girl to tell me her boyfriend’s phone number and name and called him from my cellphone. “Jerry? My name is Sue and I’m calling you for Carrie. She just had an accident in front of my home. She’s okay but understandably shaken up. Can you come get her and give her some moral support?” I gave him our street address and told him to feel free to park in our driveway. He was here in less than five minutes. By the way, I’ve changed their names to protect their identities. One of the folks who drove past must have called the police. I was busy tending to this poor girl while we waited for her boyfriend. Once the police showed up, Sam & I told her to call us if she needed anything, and came back inside to get back to watching “Goldfinger”. I still have the boyfriend’s cellphone number in my cellphone — I think I’ll call him later to check on the poor girl.
Once we were inside, away from the police, Sam said he thought “Carrie” had been drinking. “Did you smell liquor on her breath?” I asked. “I wasn’t close enough, but she was having a hard time standing and walking straight. And that story of hers didn’t make much sense. And Ruthie said she thought she’d been drinking, too.” (Protecting our neighbor’s identity here, too.) Well, I said, Ruthie saw the other car swerve and nearly hit her head on. That’s why she swerved into the ditch. The car went out of control on her and she’s lucky it didn’t roll over and kill her in the process. Give the kid the benefit of the doubt, Dear. You’d be shaken up too if that had happened to you. Especially if you were her age and alone in the car.” A moment or so later, I said all I smelled on her was the perfume she was wearing, which is true. I can still smell the perfume on my shirt. (I was hugging her, trying to comfort her and settle her down a little, while we waited for the boyfriend.) Bless her heart. “My father’s gonna kill me” she said through tears as “Jerry” held her close. “No he’s not, Sweetie,” I said. “He’ll just be happy that you’re okay. The car can be replaced, you can’t.”
About half an hour after Sam and I came inside, we heard the rain that the Weather Channel app on my Kindle had been warning me about all day. I looked out the window and everything was dark and quiet once more. You would never have known anything had happened. Then the thunderstorms started and my poor, storm-anxious, Callie began whining and whimpering and pacing. Sam went to bed, and the girls and I went into the other bedroom so I could watch “Casablanca” while I massaged Callie to calm her down. It was just one of those nights. Every time I had her calm, the thunder and rain started again and set her off. It was past two-thirty this morning when the storms FINALLY ended and I was able to get Callie calmed down and asleep on her bed. Sam woke me at seven, as I had asked him to do. Obviously, I’m in no mood to study today, at least not now. Maybe later. Ducky is at daycare — God was driving this morning, not me, that’s for sure — so it’ll be quiet around here in case I decide to take a nap.
So, folks, t-storms aside, please be careful while you’re out and about this weekend. I’ll be thankful that that poor girl is okay. And thankful that so far God has seen fit to keep my family — dogs included — safe and warm and happy.