The Back Road (Part 2)
Hey everyone, I've got part 2 of The Back Road for you guys. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Alright, I won't keep you guys any longer. Go ahead and continue.
“It’s fine it’s fine,” his mumbling was all but inaudible. Following and followed by many disgruntled grunts and coughs, “Nothing else you could’ve done.”
“I don’t think there’s any damage, is there?”
“Ah hell, I don’t know.” He said this almost like he was half hoping there was some.
I got back into my car and shut the door. I watched the small pickup I was behind drive past before glaring back at the new friend I had made. I couldn’t tell why this guy wasn’t driving away since he was barely in the ditch at all, not to mention that he had 4-wheel drive. This should be easy for him. I rolled down my window and stuck my head outside in the cold wind. I saw people trying to walk across the road to see if anybody needed help moving on. I looked ahead of the new car-truck hybrid I had made and saw the blue pickup sitting in the ditch directly in front of us. We waited while he spun his tires further into the ditch. The old man next to me climbed over to the passenger side of his truck and climbed out. I watched as he made his way over to the pickup. He leaned his head into the open window on the right side and started talking to the driver. Should I go out there and help them? I thought to myself as I grabbed the door handle. I don’t even know how I’d help, and this old guy doesn’t seem too happy that I hit him. I let go of the handle and continued to watch.
After a couple minutes he took a few steps back and looked down at the tires while waving his hand back, left, right, and sometimes he just held up an open palm. The tires followed his commands as they began to de-wedge themselves from the pit they made when they dug into the dirt. Slowly but surely the truck started to move forward again and within less than a minute it was down the road and out of sight. The old man walked back over, leaped back into the passenger door, and fell back into his original seat. His head turned and he eyed the back of both of our vehicles. His hand went to the gear shift and he put the truck into drive. I tried to avoid making emotion as his truck rubbed excruciatingly past the Buick. If there wasn’t damage to start with there was sure to be some now. Once his back bumper got loose from my front I slid another foot or two down taking his old spot. “Well, that was fun.” I exhaled relief and quickly shifted my own car into drive and started moving right behind him. This time hugging the shoulder on the right.
Another small straightaway was good enough to get my mind straight again. Still riding the dirt path with my right tires I saw another right turn. This was a breeze however because we were already on the bottom of the slope so we couldn’t actually fall any further. I looked at the digital clock on the radio screen, 2:57PM, “Still making okay time I guess. Should be home soon enough.” Another mile down a straight road and I saw it. On a normal day I’m sure it was not intimidating in any way, shape, or form. Just a normal, everyday, slightly tall hill, but today it made my stomach shoot up to my throat. “How in the hell am I going to make it up that thing?” I shouted to no one. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and leaned forward into my seat. I needed enough speed to get up, but not too much to where my tires would start to spin and send me sliding backwards. “Come on come on!” This time I shouted to the truck in front of me who seemed to me to be slowing down a little. “What are you doing!?” We started the climb and I held my breath. I was getting way too close to his bumper, but in my defense his driving was going to get us a both on a one-way ticket back down this hill, and this time he’ll be the one running into me. Before my blood pressure reached dangerous levels we had somehow made it to the top of the hill. My mouth blew open and I shot out a hard breath before sucking in another.
Before reaching a third turn, we had caught up with the blue pickup who was now the new leader of our pack. We started up another, much smaller, ascent. Halfway up I could see flashing red lights at the top. After we conquered another milestone I now saw a firetruck sitting on the left side of the road just before it dropped off again. There were two fireman talking next to the truck still flashing its lights and they both turned when we drove up. They had been pointing and discussing something about the further part of the road, but their truck blocked any sight of what was going on.
The two trucks and I found ourselves once again parked on the side of the road. At least it was by choice this time. The old man jumped out of his truck and quickly fell back onto it to catch his balance after hitting the slick asphalt. He awkwardly stepped across the road to one of the fireman and began talking. I rolled my window down to listen, but the wind was muffling the words too much to comprehend what was being said. It seemed like something somewhat big had happened if the fireman were out here, so I buttoned my coat and dismounted onto the road. I half walked half slid my way to the two firemen as the old man walked away toward the point where the road disappeared. It was easier to see a bit more scenery on the left side of the road. I noticed the firetruck was blocking a long driveway to a small mansion of a house with two other cars parked on the grass to either side of it about fifteen feet from the road. One of the fireman walked towards me. He was young, maybe 26, and tan with dark hair. Shorter than me, being someone of average height, by almost half a foot, but very stocky the way he carried himself. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Oh it’s going,” I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets. Why didn’t I bring gloves? “What… What’s going on here?”
“Well, like I was telling that guy,” he pointed a thumb behind him to the owner of the white truck, “this probably wasn’t the best path to be taking right now.” He turned and pointed past the drop off.
“You can have a look and see that this is no easy road. It takes an S turn that slants pretty good into a 3-foot ditch.” I watched his hand slither through the air like a snake as he spoke.
I took a few steps to my left to get a better view of the road. Two wide turns, the first curling down and right followed by a sharp left. The left turn worried me the worst because it was also going uphill. I peered at the ditches and could see two small cars that had already been swallowed up.
“Damn,” I turned back to the fireman, “this looks likes too much for me, but there’s no way in hell I’m going back the way I came.”
“Yeah man, I totally get that I mean it’s rough all over the place. The shitty thing is y’see we were called in because this truck over here had fallen off the road.” We walked around the front of the firetruck and stood in the front of the mansion’s driveway. Across the road was a red Ford F-150 with the front left tire being the only thing still on the shoulder of the road. I couldn’t help but think it looked like it was holding on for dear life before it’s inevitable fall off of a cliff. “Lucky for the driver and her son it got caught up on the tall bushes and tree branches hanging down and it kept the whole damn thing from going over.” Squinting my eyes for further inspection I could now see the pointed tops of thick bushes behind the truck straining to hold the weight.
“Where’s the driver?”
“She got picked up by a salt truck that showed up about half an hour ago. She’s fine now.”
My face twisted with curious excitement, “Wait, a salt truck came by already?”
The fireman (never did catch his name) placed both his large hands onto the various gear hanging over his hips. “Uh, yeah, there was one that drove by. Unfortunately, the guy was all out of salt and was just passing through on his way to get more.” His face flashed something small that looked like a smile. I gave a short chuckle in politeness, but in my head I was choking this fireman with all my strength. The old man was walking back to his truck mumbling again.
I took some steps backward in the direction of my own car, “I guess I’ll just go and warm up in my car and wait for the next salt truck to come by.”
“That’s a good idea buddy. I mean if you’re in a real hurry you can give this road a try I can’t really stop you from giving it a shot, but I’d advise you to just wait. It’s your call. Whatever you guys do just be careful because we’re heading back down the way you came from to check more roads. Be safe.” He joined his partner (or is partner just used by cops?) who was already sitting in the firetruck. They precisely backed into the long driveway and turned right to drive down the road that I had barely surmounted. I’m sure they have an easier time on this road then the rest of us.
When I finally was able to slide-step back to my car the lead driver in our little group opened up his window and poked his head out, “Hey man, what’s going on here?” He was no older than 20, had shaggy brown hair with a pointed nose and matching chin. I recognized him from work. “Hey man, what that fireman have to say?” I couldn’t recall his name, however. He couldn’t have been working there for more than 2 months. As I made my way over to his window I noticed the old man doing the same. We both gripped the small pickup and started explaining what the fireman told us. My fellow employee pondered the situation and said, “Okay, so I think I’ll just chill here for a bit then.”
“Not me,” exclaimed the old man, “I’m not about to sit here for God knows how long.” More grunts, “Who knows when that salt truck is getting back, and I think we can make those turns.”
“Maybe in your big ol’ beast,” said the unknown employee admiring the so-called beast behind his inferior pickup, “If you’ve forgotten I couldn’t even make it past the first turn.”
The old man’s head turned to face me. It tilted in a questioning way. I pointed a thumb back at my car, “Yeah, and if his truck can’t make it there’s no way in hell that my little car will.”
The old man took his hand off the pickup and said as he clumsily waddled back to his truck, “Suit yourselves. Have fun sitting here all night for that salt truck.” He got in his truck and waved his hand out the window. I could hear a small, “good luck.” As he started the engine. I waved a hand back and watched the rear lights blink as he put the truck in drive. Once he was past the firetruck he shifted over to the left lane to grab the shoulder and ride it all the way through. I stretched my neck to see how his technique was working. So far so good on the first turn, but once he made it to the bottom of the hill his tires didn’t slow as he approached the next turn. His brake lights beamed on and off as he tried to shift to the right of the road, but his tires had a mind of their own. It reminded me of an old book I once read about a Plymouth coming to life and going on a murder spree. The large white truck spun quickly to the left and fell headfirst into the ditch. The bumper was almost sticking straight into the air. The door on the left of the truck flung open and bounced looking like it would pop right off its hinges and the old man jumped onto the cold wet grass. If the truck was looking to kill like the Plymouth it had failed.
“Well,” said my unfamiliar coworker, “that settles it. Better get back to your car man.”
“It’s Van.”
“I’m Spencer.” We shook cold hands. “You wanna give it a shot?”
“Hell no.” I smirked and took one last look at the old man pacing back and forth around the truck with both hands on his head. Looks like those firemen left at the worst time. Probably didn’t think any of us would actually drive down that road.
Finally, back in the Buick I put the key into the ignition and started the engine to pump a little heat back into my body. Once the warm air began to surround me I reached down the left of my seat and felt for the adjustment lever. I pulled it up and leaned back into my seat allowing it to fall back until I was almost in a comfortable laying position. Might as well try and get some shut eye while I’m here. I closed my eyes.
The Back Road (Part 2)
After the collision I threw open my door and put one foot on the icy street, almost falling, but my hand securely fastened itself to the top of the car. “Are you okay?” I asked to the driver who took a stressful puff from his cigarette. “God, I’m so sorry this turn is a bitch.”“It’s fine it’s fine,” his mumbling was all but inaudible. Following and followed by many disgruntled grunts and coughs, “Nothing else you could’ve done.”
“I don’t think there’s any damage, is there?”
“Ah hell, I don’t know.” He said this almost like he was half hoping there was some.
I got back into my car and shut the door. I watched the small pickup I was behind drive past before glaring back at the new friend I had made. I couldn’t tell why this guy wasn’t driving away since he was barely in the ditch at all, not to mention that he had 4-wheel drive. This should be easy for him. I rolled down my window and stuck my head outside in the cold wind. I saw people trying to walk across the road to see if anybody needed help moving on. I looked ahead of the new car-truck hybrid I had made and saw the blue pickup sitting in the ditch directly in front of us. We waited while he spun his tires further into the ditch. The old man next to me climbed over to the passenger side of his truck and climbed out. I watched as he made his way over to the pickup. He leaned his head into the open window on the right side and started talking to the driver. Should I go out there and help them? I thought to myself as I grabbed the door handle. I don’t even know how I’d help, and this old guy doesn’t seem too happy that I hit him. I let go of the handle and continued to watch.
After a couple minutes he took a few steps back and looked down at the tires while waving his hand back, left, right, and sometimes he just held up an open palm. The tires followed his commands as they began to de-wedge themselves from the pit they made when they dug into the dirt. Slowly but surely the truck started to move forward again and within less than a minute it was down the road and out of sight. The old man walked back over, leaped back into the passenger door, and fell back into his original seat. His head turned and he eyed the back of both of our vehicles. His hand went to the gear shift and he put the truck into drive. I tried to avoid making emotion as his truck rubbed excruciatingly past the Buick. If there wasn’t damage to start with there was sure to be some now. Once his back bumper got loose from my front I slid another foot or two down taking his old spot. “Well, that was fun.” I exhaled relief and quickly shifted my own car into drive and started moving right behind him. This time hugging the shoulder on the right.
Another small straightaway was good enough to get my mind straight again. Still riding the dirt path with my right tires I saw another right turn. This was a breeze however because we were already on the bottom of the slope so we couldn’t actually fall any further. I looked at the digital clock on the radio screen, 2:57PM, “Still making okay time I guess. Should be home soon enough.” Another mile down a straight road and I saw it. On a normal day I’m sure it was not intimidating in any way, shape, or form. Just a normal, everyday, slightly tall hill, but today it made my stomach shoot up to my throat. “How in the hell am I going to make it up that thing?” I shouted to no one. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and leaned forward into my seat. I needed enough speed to get up, but not too much to where my tires would start to spin and send me sliding backwards. “Come on come on!” This time I shouted to the truck in front of me who seemed to me to be slowing down a little. “What are you doing!?” We started the climb and I held my breath. I was getting way too close to his bumper, but in my defense his driving was going to get us a both on a one-way ticket back down this hill, and this time he’ll be the one running into me. Before my blood pressure reached dangerous levels we had somehow made it to the top of the hill. My mouth blew open and I shot out a hard breath before sucking in another.
Before reaching a third turn, we had caught up with the blue pickup who was now the new leader of our pack. We started up another, much smaller, ascent. Halfway up I could see flashing red lights at the top. After we conquered another milestone I now saw a firetruck sitting on the left side of the road just before it dropped off again. There were two fireman talking next to the truck still flashing its lights and they both turned when we drove up. They had been pointing and discussing something about the further part of the road, but their truck blocked any sight of what was going on.
The two trucks and I found ourselves once again parked on the side of the road. At least it was by choice this time. The old man jumped out of his truck and quickly fell back onto it to catch his balance after hitting the slick asphalt. He awkwardly stepped across the road to one of the fireman and began talking. I rolled my window down to listen, but the wind was muffling the words too much to comprehend what was being said. It seemed like something somewhat big had happened if the fireman were out here, so I buttoned my coat and dismounted onto the road. I half walked half slid my way to the two firemen as the old man walked away toward the point where the road disappeared. It was easier to see a bit more scenery on the left side of the road. I noticed the firetruck was blocking a long driveway to a small mansion of a house with two other cars parked on the grass to either side of it about fifteen feet from the road. One of the fireman walked towards me. He was young, maybe 26, and tan with dark hair. Shorter than me, being someone of average height, by almost half a foot, but very stocky the way he carried himself. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Oh it’s going,” I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets. Why didn’t I bring gloves? “What… What’s going on here?”
“Well, like I was telling that guy,” he pointed a thumb behind him to the owner of the white truck, “this probably wasn’t the best path to be taking right now.” He turned and pointed past the drop off.
“You can have a look and see that this is no easy road. It takes an S turn that slants pretty good into a 3-foot ditch.” I watched his hand slither through the air like a snake as he spoke.
I took a few steps to my left to get a better view of the road. Two wide turns, the first curling down and right followed by a sharp left. The left turn worried me the worst because it was also going uphill. I peered at the ditches and could see two small cars that had already been swallowed up.
“Damn,” I turned back to the fireman, “this looks likes too much for me, but there’s no way in hell I’m going back the way I came.”
“Yeah man, I totally get that I mean it’s rough all over the place. The shitty thing is y’see we were called in because this truck over here had fallen off the road.” We walked around the front of the firetruck and stood in the front of the mansion’s driveway. Across the road was a red Ford F-150 with the front left tire being the only thing still on the shoulder of the road. I couldn’t help but think it looked like it was holding on for dear life before it’s inevitable fall off of a cliff. “Lucky for the driver and her son it got caught up on the tall bushes and tree branches hanging down and it kept the whole damn thing from going over.” Squinting my eyes for further inspection I could now see the pointed tops of thick bushes behind the truck straining to hold the weight.
“Where’s the driver?”
“She got picked up by a salt truck that showed up about half an hour ago. She’s fine now.”
My face twisted with curious excitement, “Wait, a salt truck came by already?”
The fireman (never did catch his name) placed both his large hands onto the various gear hanging over his hips. “Uh, yeah, there was one that drove by. Unfortunately, the guy was all out of salt and was just passing through on his way to get more.” His face flashed something small that looked like a smile. I gave a short chuckle in politeness, but in my head I was choking this fireman with all my strength. The old man was walking back to his truck mumbling again.
I took some steps backward in the direction of my own car, “I guess I’ll just go and warm up in my car and wait for the next salt truck to come by.”
“That’s a good idea buddy. I mean if you’re in a real hurry you can give this road a try I can’t really stop you from giving it a shot, but I’d advise you to just wait. It’s your call. Whatever you guys do just be careful because we’re heading back down the way you came from to check more roads. Be safe.” He joined his partner (or is partner just used by cops?) who was already sitting in the firetruck. They precisely backed into the long driveway and turned right to drive down the road that I had barely surmounted. I’m sure they have an easier time on this road then the rest of us.
When I finally was able to slide-step back to my car the lead driver in our little group opened up his window and poked his head out, “Hey man, what’s going on here?” He was no older than 20, had shaggy brown hair with a pointed nose and matching chin. I recognized him from work. “Hey man, what that fireman have to say?” I couldn’t recall his name, however. He couldn’t have been working there for more than 2 months. As I made my way over to his window I noticed the old man doing the same. We both gripped the small pickup and started explaining what the fireman told us. My fellow employee pondered the situation and said, “Okay, so I think I’ll just chill here for a bit then.”
“Not me,” exclaimed the old man, “I’m not about to sit here for God knows how long.” More grunts, “Who knows when that salt truck is getting back, and I think we can make those turns.”
“Maybe in your big ol’ beast,” said the unknown employee admiring the so-called beast behind his inferior pickup, “If you’ve forgotten I couldn’t even make it past the first turn.”
The old man’s head turned to face me. It tilted in a questioning way. I pointed a thumb back at my car, “Yeah, and if his truck can’t make it there’s no way in hell that my little car will.”
The old man took his hand off the pickup and said as he clumsily waddled back to his truck, “Suit yourselves. Have fun sitting here all night for that salt truck.” He got in his truck and waved his hand out the window. I could hear a small, “good luck.” As he started the engine. I waved a hand back and watched the rear lights blink as he put the truck in drive. Once he was past the firetruck he shifted over to the left lane to grab the shoulder and ride it all the way through. I stretched my neck to see how his technique was working. So far so good on the first turn, but once he made it to the bottom of the hill his tires didn’t slow as he approached the next turn. His brake lights beamed on and off as he tried to shift to the right of the road, but his tires had a mind of their own. It reminded me of an old book I once read about a Plymouth coming to life and going on a murder spree. The large white truck spun quickly to the left and fell headfirst into the ditch. The bumper was almost sticking straight into the air. The door on the left of the truck flung open and bounced looking like it would pop right off its hinges and the old man jumped onto the cold wet grass. If the truck was looking to kill like the Plymouth it had failed.
“Well,” said my unfamiliar coworker, “that settles it. Better get back to your car man.”
“It’s Van.”
“I’m Spencer.” We shook cold hands. “You wanna give it a shot?”
“Hell no.” I smirked and took one last look at the old man pacing back and forth around the truck with both hands on his head. Looks like those firemen left at the worst time. Probably didn’t think any of us would actually drive down that road.
Finally, back in the Buick I put the key into the ignition and started the engine to pump a little heat back into my body. Once the warm air began to surround me I reached down the left of my seat and felt for the adjustment lever. I pulled it up and leaned back into my seat allowing it to fall back until I was almost in a comfortable laying position. Might as well try and get some shut eye while I’m here. I closed my eyes.
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