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His Reward |
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His Reward
by folgers1
The back of the car swung lazily from side to side as the driver tried to get out of the mud. On the highway shoulder, the tires worked more deeply into the mud. John could see that things were just going to get worse if the driver continued with this strategy of getting unstuck, so he pulled over to the shoulder in front of the other car to see what to do. As he walked to the driver’s window, the glass rolled down.
Through the opening, he saw the face of a woman. It was tight with frustration that had brought tears to her eyes. Looking at John, she didn’t say anything; her eyes said, “I can’t make this work.” She was an Asian woman who had taken good care of herself. Her tear stained face showed a maturity and beauty of a lady who had been an attractive woman for some time. Her dark hair was shoulder length. She wore a blouse of gold, brown and black that reflected the lights of the dashboard. On both wrists, she had gold bracelets with a burnished look suggesting many years of wear. Three buttons down her blouse hung a necklace of black beads separated by small, gold beads. Her knee length skirt was black and simple. Extending from her skirt were tapered legs. On her feet were black heels that wouldn’t have fared well in the mud at all.
“Would you like some help?”
“Yes please.” she said. She now had hope; maybe she could get out of this.
“I’m going to pull you out of the mud. I’ll attach a rope to my truck and tie under the front of your car and pull you out. Go ahead and close your window so you don’t get rained on.”
She had pulled over into the only patch of muddy shoulder nearby. There probably had been some construction there fixing a guard rail, and rain had turned the repair site into a mud hole. John’s truck was on solid asphalt though and would have no trouble pulling her out. He got a rope out of the cab and attached its hook to a ring put there for that purpose under the rear of the truck. To the Buick he tied the other end under the front of her car. The rain slashed down as he went back to her window to give instructions.
“Wha t I’ll do first is take the slack out of the line, and then I’ll pull you out of the mud. Now I won’t be able to see the rope, so honk when it’s tight. Okay?” She nodded. “Okay now once the line is tight, I’ll slowly pull you out. You push down on your accelerator just a little.” He said as he gestured with his forefinger and thumb an inch apart. Hopeful but still stressed she could say no more, she nodded emphatically. “Okay, close your window.” he said.
They followed the steps as they had planned and the long, black Buick rolled up out of the muddy ditch and forward twenty feet onto terra firma. John got the rope detached and put it into the bed of his truck. When he went back to her window he noticed that her left rear tire was flat; it was all the way flat. Then he saw the cause of the flat tire. Protruding from the ditch of mud was some metal fragment. As she had spun her tires, the metal fragment must have slashed her tire.
“I’m afraid that we’re not finished yet. Your tire is flat.” They just stared at each other for a long moment. Neither of them had expected a further complication. She continued to look at him for a moment longer. He asked,“Do you have a spare tire?”
“Yes, yes I do. It’s in the trunk.” She looked down at her instrument panel and found the button that released the trunk lid. It opened with a thunk. “What can I do to help? Would you like me to help you?”
John waved with his left hand as the rain water dripped from him “No it’s all right. It’s no problem. I’ll be happy to get it.”
As the rain continued, he got some leather work gloves from out of the truck. His clothes were already smudged with mud and wet from the rain, but he wanted to keep his hands from getting completely caked with mud and grease as he worked on the tire. He found a scissor jack and the spare in the trunk. The firm asphalt surface gave a sure platform to raise the Bu
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