Stranded
Stranded
It was dark and the rain was coming down hard. Mike Seiver strained to see the road ahead. Red tail lights ahead were but a blur as he steered his fully restored 1979 Toyota Mini-Cruiser RV up the highway. The humming of the engine was matched only by the rhythmic pounding of the windshield wipers.
He was glad to be getting off at the upcoming exit where he figured he could find a place to eat and a spot to park for the night. He had considered an RV campground but it would be nothing but mud. Usually, the back lot of a motel or apartment complex worked for one-night stands, especially in this weather, as no one was interested in getting out in it to see if he had a parking pass. Up ahead, a car with its hood up was parked under the overpass for his exit. There were no flashers or parking lights and someone was standing under the hood poking around in the engine. What a time to have car troubles he thought. He slowed as he passed the car. It was a woman under the hood and what looked like a child in the car. This was no time for anyone to be out on the road, alone with car problems. He quickly pulled the RV over and then backed up toward the stalled car. Leaving the engine running he walked to the back window of the RV and flipped on the outdoor flood lights to scope out the situation better. He could see that the car was a mid-sixty’s Cutlass. Nice car he thought. This could be as innocent as it looked but could also be a setup. His four tours of duty in the Army taught him to always be cautious and expect the unexpected. A quick look at the overall situation convinced him if someone was lurking around he would have time to react. He shoved his Army-issue Beretta 9 mm pistol into its holster, clipped the holster to his belt at the small of his back, and headed out the door keeping his eyes peeled in all directions.
“Howdy mam,” he called as he walked up. “Bad time to have car trouble, can I help?”
It was too dark to see anything but an obvious problem in the engine. Fortunately, she was under cover from the pounding rain. The woman was not caught off guard as she had been warily watching the RV pull in front of her. She turned sideways and agreed it was bad timing. She seemed to be in her late 30s, with blond hair, loosely twisted in a bun in the back of her head and clipped in place. There were two knitting needles stuck in the hair bun Japanese style. Although stylish, he was keenly aware that those knitting needles could be fatal if someone knew how to use them. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt with “ARMY” boldly written across the front and a white T-shirt underneath, giving it stylish accents at the collar and bottom hem. She wore loose camouflage pants and white sneakers. She exuded a confident, no-fear attitude about herself. He liked that.
She went straight to the point by saying, “the car started losing power about a mile back. I was able to coax it along to the overpass. I brought it to a stop here out of the rain. It would run but didn’t have the power to move on its own. After turning the engine off it won’t start back up. There is plenty of gas in the tank and the starter motor seems to be working just fine. Just no fire.”
Mike was impressed with the woman’s ability to convey pertinent information about the situation without the usual superfluous information and feelings thrown in. The story seemed plausible and detailed enough that he let his guard down just a bit about someone jumping him and took a little more interest in the car situation.
Without introducing himself he asked, “may I?”
As he stepped under the hood and looked the engine over for obvious problems but already had a hunch that the engine had overheated and the piston rod bearings were flattened. This would require a replacement of the piston bearings, a rather pricy job if indeed that is all that was damaged. A valve job could be in order as well. The old Cutlass may make a good restoration project but didn’t look worth the repair job. He kept that to himself for now as it was just his off-the-cuff hunch. But he felt pretty confident about it. Confident enough to not spend a lot of time looking for any other problems.
“You Army,” Mike asked, pointing to her sweatshirt?
“Retired,” she confirmed.
“Same here,” Mike said.
He shared the tours he had been on. She responded in like kind. Mike continued to look around the engine compartment, more as a gesture of showing interest in helping but felt it was a lost cause for the evening. Just to be certain though. He had her try to start the engine. Sure enough, the battery proved good as the starter motor sprung to life.
The engine was not interested in firing and he could hear a muffled slapping noise from within. Confirmation in his mind that his original prognosis was correct.
As she got out of the car, her confident, no-fear aura seemed to fade just a bit. He didn’t know her situation but noticed she did not offer to call for help from a friend. She was also not wearing a wedding ring. A single mother on her own he surmised. There was a pause in their limited interaction as the car analysis seemed to be over.
Mike made the first move introducing himself, “I’m Mike Seiver by the way.”
“I’m Donna,” she responded, not giving her last name.
She also didn’t acknowledge, who Mike figured to be her son in the car.
Mike continued with, “my stop is at this exit. I was heading for dinner at one of the several restaurants posted on the road sign back there,” pointing back up the roadway.
“That was our plan A as well until we got sidelined into plan B,” Donna responded.
Mike went on to offer that he would be more than happy to take them to a motel if they like and then in the morning drive them back to the car and see if things looked better in the morning light. Donna politely declined saying she didn’t want him to go out of his way for them.
Mike responded incredulously, “are you serious? Do you really expect me to leave two people out in the cold and rain while I go happily about my business? Especially an Army compatriot. Look, get what you need for the night from your car. I was getting off at this exit for the night anyway and I don’t have an absolute drop dead time schedule. Consider this your plan C.”
She turned her back for a few seconds to consider her options. The only other options she had was to sleep under the overpass wrapped up in a blanket like some homeless person. Her thought was it would give her a high vantage point if trouble came her way during the night. Or just spend the night in the car, which was her plan until Mike came along. It was raining too hard to trek up to the exit and hope to find somewhere to stay. She would get soaked and her 7-year-old son would get hypothermia by the time she found a place for the night, if there was a place. Mike’s offer was truly a Godsend, albeit a little too convenient for her liking. However, being ex-Army she also had her pistol at the ready and felt confident she could handle any attack Mike may attempt. Her Army training gave her confidence and she would not hesitate to pull the trigger if need be. She turned back to him and agreed to his proposal. Once she agreed, for some reason, she saw Mike in a slightly new light.
She felt rather adept at seeing and acting on any red flags that popped up. Not seeing any as yet, she stayed positive. Rather than seeing Mike as a threat to her and her son, she started seeing him as an unlikely friend. After all, she thought, his actions or demeanor had not raised any red flags. Ever since her husband was killed by that roadside IED she had become the sole provider and protector of her son and being cautious and protective was her first impulse.
