Elliott
The rain started thirty minutes into my drive to WestBrook University, turning the windshield into a smeared watercolor of gray sky and trembling headlights. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as a car sped past me on my left, spraying mist across my window. Sparring a glance at the speedometer, I make sure I’m going the speed limit. Not one mile faster or slower. My heart pounds harder than the wipers as they fight to keep the road visible.
Today was supposed to be the best day of a newly graduated girl’s life, driving away to a college that was way too good for her. Instead, it already feels like one of the hardest days I’ve ever had. Every time I breathe in, I smell my mother’s perfume. She’d clung to me so tightly this morning that her scent lingered like a forgotten memory. With every glance at the rear-view mirror, I can see her hugging herself as I pull away from the driveway. Like if she let go, she’d fall apart.
Sighing, I turn the dial up on my radio and try to tune in on the playlist that she and I had made last night. She picked sad country songs she knew would make me cry, and I added a little bit of everything else. I’d hoped I would drive the whole two and a half hours with my windows down, music blaring, and singing until my throat hurt. But the morning sky was dark gray, the exact opposite of what the weather forecast was.
I tried not to let it dampen my mood, but as the miles passed, the rain grew heavier and heavier. By the one-hour mark, it was raining so badly that I had to go five under the speed limit. My tires felt like they were gliding along the road instead of gripping it. Trying to pretend like it doesn’t bother me, I hum along to every song that’s blasting through my blown-out speakers.
The number one rule of driving is to keep your eyes on the road. Usually, I’m pretty good about it, but for a split second, I looked away when my phone buzzed. It was probably my mom, “Be safe!” Or a heart emoji, or something sweet and simple. I didn’t grab my phone, just glanced toward the cup holder, and that’s all it took.
A small brown shape darted out in front of my car. I gasped, jerking the wheel sideways, instinct taking over before thought. A soft but sickening thud sounded from my bumper, not loud, but loud enough to know I’d hit something. Then came a metallic scraping sound that made my stomach drop.
“Shoot!’
I jerked the wheel and slammed on my brakes, pulling onto the shoulder. When the car finally shuddered to a stop, I shoved the shifter into park and stared at the empty stretch of road ahead. What the heck just happened?
My body moves faster than my brain, pushing the door open before I can think. I stepped out into the rain. It soaks my hoodie instantly, sending a chill shock down my spine. Rounding the front of the car, I found a small squirrel lying on its side, not moving.
“Oh no… I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I kneel next to the poor, innocent soul I just ran over. My knees hit the gravel and rain seeped through my jeans, but I didn’t care. Moving my hands underneath the squirrel, I gently stroked its fur as I cradled it, and stood.
“Hey, you need help?” A masculine voice calls out. A rusty pickup truck pulled up behind my car, the driver’s door hanging open, a man halfway out. He stepped fully out, his flannel flapping in the wind as he adjusted a baseball cap over his graying hair.
“I looked away for a second, just one- and I didn’t see him until it was too late,” I said quietly. The man comes closer, not too close, but close enough to see the still form I was holding.
“It’s not your fault, kid. This weather like this, things happen.” He states, as I leaned over the guardrail and laid the squirrel on the wet grass. I couldn’t bury him, so this will have to do.
“I’m just so disappointed in myself,” I said, tucking a strand of soaked black hair behind my ear. “I could have missed him if I were paying attention.
“Looks like the road hit you back, little miss.” I turn back around to see him kneeling beside my driver’s side tire, which was completely flat. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at it. Of course, this is precisely what I needed right now. The man glanced up at me, and his eyes widened, probably realizing I was about three seconds away from curling up into a ball and ugly crying into the pavement.
He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a low whistle, like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or pity me.
“Okay, kiddo…. why don’t you take a step back before you drown in your own tears. I’ll take a look at this.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, wiping at my face even though the rain immediately replaced the tears. He ran one of his callused hands over the rim of the tire.
“Yep. You clipped something pretty good. Probably when you tried to miss the critter.”
Guilt stabbed me all over again.
“I didn’t want to hit him.” I frowned, which made the man in front of me grunt.
“Most people don’t,” He said while bracing himself on his knees. “But you stopped. That says more about you than the accident does.”
I looked down at my soaked sneakers. Water pooled around them like the world was trying to swallow me whole. My socks sat uncomfortably around my toes. I wiggled them, trying to add some warmth back.
“It just feels like everything’s going wrong today,” I complain out loud. I don’t expect the man to try to comfort me. Sometimes it just feels good to complain.
The man huffed a soft laugh.
“Sometimes the universe throws a fit before you start a new chapter. That means you’re headed somewhere important.”
I didn’t feel important. I felt like a disaster.
“Pop your trunk real fast, I want to see if you have a spare.” He wipes his hands on his pants and makes his way to the back of my car. I do as he asks, leaning in and popping the lever under the dashboard.
“What’s your name?” I ask as I join him and rummage around my trunk. I only had one suitcase packed, and it was sitting in the back seat, so the trunk was mainly empty except for some random papers and receipts.
“Eric, what’s yours?”
“Elliott Hart, do you need help with that?” Eric lifts a small section of the trunk, revealing a spare. He grabs it and hefts it up like it weighs nothing.
“Elliott, huh? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” He questions me as he props the tire on the side of the car and pulls a tool from a random pocket of his cargo pants.
“I like to think that it can be either.”
He laughs again and digs in his truck bed until he frees a jack from behind a toolbox.
“Are you heading far?”
“WestBrook University,” I ran a hand over my dripping hair. “It’s my first year.”
“College girl, good for you. That’s a big step.”
“It feels huge,” I admitted. “My mom was crying before I left.”
He chuckled. “Moms do that. Mine cried when I moved two towns over.” That made me smile, and Eric smiled faintly back, as if it were a sore subject for him. He cranked the jack a few more times and tested it with a quick shake. When it didn’t budge, he started loosening the lug nuts, moving with practiced ease.“Your dad around?” The question hit me like a cold drop down my spine.
I shook my head, “No. It’s just been mom and me.”
“Well,” he started in a tone that made the rain seem softer, “sounds like she raised a good one.”
Another smile filled my face as I watched him stand after settling the spare tire in place.
“That should get you to WestBrook,” He said, giving the lug wrench a final tug. “Just take it slow in this rain.”I nodded, swallowing around the tight knot that formed from nowhere.
“Really, I don’t know how to thank you. I have twenty in cash.”I pat my pockets; I know one of them holds the bill, but I don’t remember which one.
“You already did,” He tipped his chin toward the patch of grass where the squirrel lay, small and still. “Most folks wouldn’t think about doing that.”Heat rushed behind my eyes again, but I blinked it down.
“I couldn’t leave it in the road.”For a moment, neither of us said anything. Rain pattered against the hood of my car, gentle now, like it was finally running out of anger. Eric stepped back towards his truck, giving me a wink before hopping in. He rolled his window down as he started it and rolled it next to where I was standing.
“Get going now. Call your mama too, she’s probably worried sick.”A laugh slipped out of me as I waved to his taillights.
I slide back into my car, shut the door, and let out a shaky sigh. The interior smelled like rain and old coffee, and Mom’s perfume lingered, too. “Okay, you can do this,” I whispered to myself as I turned the key and shifted into drive. The spare tire felt a little wobbly under me as I pulled back into the road, but I trusted that it would take me the hour and a half. Traffic was lighter now, the storm was breaking, and I could see a small sliver of pale sky through the clouds ahead, just bright enough to guide me forward.
