I can’t not tell this story. It’s just too good. (And it’s my blog so I do what I want.)
The car continued to fly down the road, across the grass and then flew 20 feet over a pile of logs and stumps before landing gently in the river.
The man admits that he was going at least 45 in a 30, just before a one lane bridge on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere in the dark. After it rained all night. And was 19 degrees. And he procrastinated on putting winter tires on for the past 3 weeks. I call this poor judgment. He calls it an accident.
He was lucky however that he didn’t die. Just to the right of the car, the river goes over some rapids and under the bridge. If the car had floated, he would have died. If he had landed farther downstream he would have died. If someone hadn’t come along just as he climbed up the bank and to the road and offered him a ride, he would have died. Instead he landed softly and took a moment to think before he got out.
We went the next day to have the car towed out. Not an easy task as it had to be dragged over all that debris that he never touched as he flew over. He had to get into the water to secure the winch to a back tire.
Then Karma struck.
The driver’s door opened and the one thing he had left in the car floated gently out, around the back and down the stream: his favorite pool cue in its special wooden carpeted case. He stood frozen in horror until it had disappeared under the bridge. Only then did he hear me asking if he was going to try to save it. Too late. It was gone.
The winch broke twice hauling the car over a huge stump. By the time it was on the back of the tow truck it was a wreck. He dragged it up the road a ways to make sure it was secure. Then the next lapse in judgment occurred, the man who drove his car into a river turned my van around in the middle of that same dirt road, around a blind corner with me and my children in it.
I followed the tow truck to the junk yard, watching for pieces falling off the car and enjoying the sparks against the pavement. This whole thing felt a lot like my marriage for the past two years. I’m not sure what pieces fell off. I think I was just trying to keep it duct taped together.
Ah, but the last bit of Karma was still to happen. At the junkyard he discovered that his check for the tow guy was in his pocket the whole time and was soaking wet. Unusable. He looked up at me as I sat behind the wheel. Like I was going to do something to rescue him once again, like a thousand times before. I just stared back. Nope, not going to write you a check for this one. But I will remember watching that pool cue case floating ever so gently out of the driver’s door of the car.