Man, was I ever exhausted. I had had a long hard day at work, overtime to boot. It's not like I had a hard job. I just sat at the head of a sleeping patient and kept him/her asleep till the operation was over. Not much to it. Child's play. A little of this drug a little of that and boom, asleep or awake. Which do you want, doctor? Oh, the surgery's not over yet? Okay, I'll give some of this stuff here.
Now, I'm heading home. It's late an I'm chilling to some good CD's, enjoying the lovely country road. Trees standing tall on both sides of the road, which is barely wide enough for one car. The cool breeze of evening blowing in my open window, whistling through my hair. I could see the sun getting ready to set over the treetops. Mixing many colors into one, a fantastic explosion of art.
My purse was on the dashboard and as I manuevered a tricky turn it sailed to the the floor. Of course it had to open and scatter all it's contents under my feet. Tubes of lipstick and mascara rolled under the brakes and gas pedal. How annoying. I peeked into the rear view mirror. Nothing. I looked ahead. Nothing. Why stop? I can just lean over and stretch for..........Bang!!!! bang, bang, clank, bang, clink, pop. What the heck?
Suddenly something smashed me in the face and vanished. Did a bird fly in window? What's going on? Where am I? What is pulling on my shoulder? I shook my head as if that would give me answers. I then tried blinking my eyes open and shut. Open and shut. The white air bag is deflated in front of me. Something is really off here. My hair is falling up! No. My seat belt is what's digging into my shoulder because it's holding me in my seat...upside down! My hair is falling down, not up! My wallet, makeup, pens and cell phone were resting quietly on the ceiling, taunting me.
I reach my arm up to undo the seat belt and descend to the roof, not with grace might I add. My knees smashed me in the nose already sore from the deployed airbag and by feet swung into my mouth. Remind me to use athelete's foot powder when I get home. Otherwise I don't seem to have any fatal injuries. Unless you can die from damaged pride.
Thank heavens the window is still open enough for me to crawl out. Where on earth is the earth? The sky is below me and I was staring at the river bed a few feet above me. The world was upside down. Time to squirm out the opening. (This isn't easy as the window opening and my body size aren't compatable.)
Standing on slippery rocks I gawk at my car. The hood and trunk are resting on boulders in a stream bed, the roof two feet from running water. My two feet were three feet deep in cold flowing fluid. I wade to the shore and assess the steep bank. I need to climb about two stories to be street level. Here goes. Pulling weeds and roots I toiled upward. My clothes snagged and ripped. No wonder Jane and Tarzan wore skimpy outfits. Nature was hard on a wardrobe, I'm surprized their bodies weren't road mapped with stitches. I thumped my knees and elbows against jutting obstacles, spewing unlady like vocabulary. My hands were going to need a good manicure after this. I'm more marred from my escape than my accident. Drats, one of my shoes splashed into the stream.
I finally got to the side of the road, scratched, bloody, bruised and totally pissed at myself since I omitted getting my purse and cell phone. Well I knew how to get down there and get back up. Nope. No way. I'll just pray for help to come down this deserted backway.
Wait, I see car lights coming down the road. I stood and flagged down an older couple. They actually stopped to help me. I wouldn't have stopped to help me!! If I saw someone as bloody and dirty as I appeared right now, I think I'd have hit the accelerator a bit heavier!(By now I knew to keep my eyes on the road!) Boy I hope their kids give them what for when they hear about this!! Elderly people are targets for potentially fraudulent acts like this.
They even got out of their Toyota and peered over the edge at my mishap. "Man, lady. God must have been with you!" Grandpa declared, as grandma dialed 911 on her cell."Yea, and I darn near killed him!!!"Maybe you should have let him drive."
Fictional account of a true story!!!
Thursday, February 8, 2007
samaritan
The rain was miserable. No, the rain was needed, driving in it was miserable. A Lexus sped past us on the left side with several youth wavingS, and saluting us with beer bottles. A jalopy was hot on their heels,(wheels). Racing on a night like this, no wonder the death rate is high for young adults. I was in a church van on our way back from a long revival, tired and exhausted, envisioning pulling back my quilts, fluffing up my pillows, scooping Scruffy up in my arms and sleeping for twenty years. My name? Van Winkle, Mrs. Rip Van Winkle. Oh, of course I was also thinking of the magnificent messages I spent the last few nights listening to. Thunder cracked, lightening exploded across the sky and a shadowy figure leaped at us from the road side.
We skidded, nearly colliding with him, but maintained our ground and continued.
"Shouldn't we stop to see what's wrong?" I asked the driver.
"It's Friday night, he's drunk. That's what's wrong." The minister informed me from the passenger seat.
"It's Friday night for us too, and we're not drunk." I explained.
I got the "look" from several of those present. I watched out the back window. The poor man was staggering down the street after us. Rain pouring, lightening coloring the sky and thunder clapping. The church's whole caravan passed him. Well, one church, one body, one mind; except for me, the errant nerve cell. This human neglect angered me. Years ago that could have been me. But for the grace of God, there goes I.
We got deposited in the church parking lot and disbanded to our cars. Every one said "God bless" to all and carried their bibles home. My quilt would have to wait; I had a job to do. I retraced the path to where I had last seen the Drunk. There he was, sitting by a tree, holding his head and vomiting. My umbrella would be useless for me and too late for him. I slowly approached Drunk. His head was bleeding, his clothes torn and ripped. Blood oozed out of his nose and mouth. Recent cuts and bumps covered what I could see of his body. No better time to be sick. Thank heavens it was pouring. It diluted the stench.
His clothes had been costly at one time; I made a mental note to ask him which Goodwill he shopped at.
"Help me." Drunk pleaded, his words slurred. "My car...money...cell...gone." He stammered with considerable effort in a non English speaking undertone. That was the high price of alcohol. It took everything you owned and trashed it sending it into a land of memories. This guy appeared to still be in his teens, early twenties.
Now that I was up close and personal with Drunk, what should I do? I hadn't thought past finding him. I couldn't take him home and he obviously had been in a barroom brawl. This is Texas, are they still called that? He needed medical attention. Rain was plastering my clothes to my bones; exposing sensitive female anatomy and making me feel exposed. Thank heavens my make up wasn't smeared, it was simply rinsed away. I glanced at my warm car and thought of just leaving after all but instead got behind Drunk and lifting him to his feet steered him to his awaiting coach. Cars continued past, not bothering to stop to render aide.
The owners of one car did slow down enough to yell out the window,†Get a room, will ya!"
Water pooled on the floorboards and soaked into the seats. Man, was my transportation going to smell sweet in the morning. Mildew is a good Yankee Candle fragrance that hasn't been marketed yet, and it has such potential. I got a whiff of vomit once again in the closed car. Down went the windows letting in more moisture. Drunk's shirt wasn't completely rain washed off and carried "herbal scents" of his last meal.
I drove to the nearest Medical institute and got help in the emergency room parking lot. At the admissions desk I signed my life away, confirming I'd be responsible for the bills. (could I really be held liable for them?) There goes my cruise I'd been saving up for for ten years. Funny the longer I saved, the cost of the cruise escalated. They should consider pre paid plans, like funeral homes.
With no I.D, no idea of previous medical conditions etc, they sutured his lacerations, covered him in a clean gown and admitted him for observation due to his head injuries. I was observing my cruise ship leave the harbor; without me.
Feeling I more than did my job I finally headed to the warmth and comfort of my loving pooch and bed. Scruffy met me at the door when she heard my keys. As I stepped into the foyer she greeted me with a happy bark that slowly reverted to a sniff and growl. She backed away from me, keeping eye contact as though I might jump her and cause harm.
"Come here, girl". She proceeded to put distance between us, ears laying against her head, tail beginning to droop. The dog eats her own vomit on occasion and can't stand the way I smell now! How flattering, what loyalty!
The next day, early in the morning I returned to the hospital to find T.V crews, in vans and helicopters, police and lots of fancy automobiles surrounding the hospital. Was that a limousine with a chauffeur? I made it past all the commotion with great difficulty. How could emergency patients get past all this hoop la. I hadn't seen the news this morning, what the heck had happened last night?
I located the elevators when I heard a whoop. "There she is!"
I had to turn to see who caused such excitement, expecting to see a movie star or some celebrity. People were pointing at me! An army of reporters rushed in my direction, raising a sense of panic that caused me to brace myself against the closed elevator doors and raise my hands in defense.
"It's not me! I didn't do it." I screamed falling on my butt when the elevator doors opened.
A suit approached me. Two suits. Someone helped me to my feet. A lot of important looking people crowded around me. Microphones where shoved in my face. Police elbowed their way to the front and escorted me to a private room with several of the Suits. I was terrified. What have I done!!
"I want a lawyer!" I bellowed.
"Calm down m'am. It's alright." With time it was explained to me that the young man I rescued last night was an ambassador’s son who had been way-layed by carjackers. The Lexus that had passed us with the beer drinkers had been his misappropriated auto! Don't ask me to repeat the country's name, I'd never be able to pronounce it without causing a war, but the ambassador was extremely grateful to me for saving his only son.
I had intervened in a deadly situation, pulling the victim out of the jaws of death from exposure. I was a hero. Me. Mrs. Rip Van Winkle. Wait till I tell Scruffy who she rejected last night! I was being offered massive reward money I couldn't turn down with out offending the ambassador's native customs. No problem, I don't want to be offensive. I wonder if it would be polite to ask if the young man had insurance.
Getting home to peace a quiet once again I received a phone call from my Pastor, who had witnessed my story on live T.V updates throughout the day.
"Good job." He informed me. "You're a credit to our congregation." Then he went on to remind me of my tithing obligations, giving back to God what he made available to me.
I agreed with him wholeheartedly. I was already planning on giving my tenth; that is once I found a church that didn't think everyone stumbling around on
Friday nights was intoxicated. Then again, that would have to wait till Scruffy and I returned from our impending cruise, compliments of Mr. Ambassador (and God).
Luke 10:30-37
Christmas Visitors
It has been one heck of a day topping off one heck of a week. I left family Christmas shopping till the last minute, though I did pack away a few things while I was doing my Salvation Army shopping. Mostly gift cards. It is harder to buy for those you know than those that have nothing. My kids and friends have all the clothes, candles and luxuries they can handle, plus some to spare. I sat in my car deliberating whether or not I had the energy to get out and wrestle with the other harried consumers. Bargain hunters were coming and going, none seemed extremely happy, just tired and worn out...like me.
Eventually I made it to the inside of the shopping Mecca where a choir singing Christmas carols slowed me down. I took a seat to continue my energy conservation mode. The strains of "peace on earth, good will to men" seemed irrelevant to the season as I observed those scurrying by with no desire to slow down, muttering under their breaths about the unpleasantness of buying for so and so, the old drunk.
"It's a beautiful song, isn't it?" A new arrival with a coat covering a humped back asked. "Shame it's lost it's meaning.” Wow, was this guy reading my mind or what? "I feel like the angel's present on Jesus’ birthday are very disappointed that their message didn't stick."
The song carried on to it's third stanza, "And ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow, Look now! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing: O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing."
"Nope, that has all become a pipe dream. This time of year there is no rest for the weary bent over forms of the Christmas shopper. I'm sure this wasn't what the angels' message was about."
I looked at the stranger. "You don't shop for Christmas?"
"I don't shop at all for family, we're too numerous, We just try to provide for the needy. My family doesn’t need anything, and overeating is just as wasteful as over owning. We celebrate Christmas peacefully, and respectfully, no strain on the emotions, just togetherness.”
Reflecting on this I realized the most joy I had was buying for the forgotten seniors at the Salvation Army. Turning back to the shopper I was amazed at how fast he had disappeared, nothing was left of him but a few feathers in his seat!
On I trudged through the mall, being pushed aside by panicked last minute spenders, till I came to the Winter Wonder Land. Santa was being plied with kids making their Christmas requests; no, demands. A few even complained about last years gifts breaking or not being received at all. It was so commercial it sickened me. One little boy even mentioned the brother he asked for came eight months late as a girl! He didn't count that as a Christmas gift and he wanted a refund! His mother looked aghast, holding onto her young daughter. The scene didn't encourage family domicity.
"Isn't he ludicrous?" A bearded man questioned. "A red suit and fat belly! Give me a break! Any one spending that much time building toys, hauling them around and delivering them should be in good physical shape. He looks like a comic figure, it's no wonder the kids cry and scream as they're placed on his lap! Just looking at him makes me want to shed tears! Just look at him! He's a poster child for obesity and diabetes!"
"I was just trying to recall which wise man appeared at Jesus' place wearing that outfit, and falling through a chimney!" I answered, giggling.
"You're right, Nicholas didn't appear till three hundred or so years latter, I don't mind saying he was a good looking guy, a bishop, who started off giving away his wealth to poor girls who would be sold into slavery without a proper dowry."
"Is that so?" I asked. Again with the poor. "Why didn't you call him St. Nicholas?" I noticed the obvious omission from the lips of the trim gentleman.
"Because he didn't ask for special favors, being canonized, he just did what was expected of him as a servant of the Most High. All followers of God are saints." Boy, what a powerful statement; I’m a saint! I sure didn't feel like one right now. We listened while Santa queried if a youngster had been good or bad.
"Thank heavens Jesus came when were all sinners. If he waited till we'd had a good year...well we'd still be waiting for his first appearance." The stranger stated, his voice fading.
I turned to see an empty space between me and a young mother, who was staring at me oddly,as though she thought I was nuts. What was her problem and how did my temporary companion escape this crowd without displacing anyone?
I pushed my way through the barrier of bodies, stepping on several toes eliciting special suggestions for me; things I couldn't possibly achieve physically, how could they use words like that in front of kids. It's a wonder any child got a gift for being good if they followed their parents examples!
The next display in merchants heaven was a Nativity scene with live animals located next to a store selling...nativity scenes, what else? Great, even the most sacred event was reduced to a packaged item!
"What a peaceful scene." A rough looking man wearing a tool belt sighed. "Reminds me of my son's birthday so long ago." "Was he born in a barn?" I joked. "Yes, actually, we were on vacation and didn't make it to the hospital in time. We were pretty poor but we were together and healthy. The owners of the barn were surprised to see us there, the way they adored my son, you'd think they'd never seen a newborn before, and them raising animals!" He glanced around at the store‘s customers. "He never had a birthday as full of anxiety as this, truth be told he never had a birthday; one we celebrated anyway. He never asked for one, in fact, he was more into giving than receiving. A few years latter visitors from another country came who gave us some extravagant presents to help us get a new lease on life, but that only happened once."
"Your son sounds special, where is he now?"
"He died young. I never saw him grow up, his mother raised him right though. She watched him give his life as the ultimate gift to the poor and needy.
I stared at this unknown gentlemen in astonishment. He was pretty fixated on the stage in front of us. Reliving memories of being poor, aided by foreigners, separated from his son and yet happy and content about it. He walked away and vanished into the mob, humming Silent Night.
That was it. I made one quick stop for my gift list and headed home. As I pulled out of the parking lot I saw the three men I had conversed with walking...up. Their feet weren't touching the ground. Looking over their shoulders at me they gave me the high five. On reflex I high fived back, then looked about sheepishly to see if I was being observed. Hump back took off his coat revealing a full set of wings. He soared off at such a speed it appeared like a comet had been flung through the heavens. The second guy jumped into a wagon that he had whistled for, (as though he were summoning a taxi,) drawn by some unusual looking deer, the back of the cart was loaded with sacks filled with blankets, coats and food. The third guy was met by a lovely young woman with a shawl over her head. They slowly dematerialized, kissing and hugging. I blinked my eyes and hit the gas petal. I don’t recollect a recent head injury! Could this be the result of holiday fatigue?!
At home I labeled cards to family and friends explaining that I donated to various charities in their names. I couldn't have found better gifts for them than to help someone that didn't have everything they needed. Then, pouring some eggnog and settling into my lounge chair I pulled out my bible and read the Christmas story with new eyes.
Math 1:18- 2:15Rom. 5:8Eph. 2:1-10Gal 4:4-5
Eventually I made it to the inside of the shopping Mecca where a choir singing Christmas carols slowed me down. I took a seat to continue my energy conservation mode. The strains of "peace on earth, good will to men" seemed irrelevant to the season as I observed those scurrying by with no desire to slow down, muttering under their breaths about the unpleasantness of buying for so and so, the old drunk.
"It's a beautiful song, isn't it?" A new arrival with a coat covering a humped back asked. "Shame it's lost it's meaning.” Wow, was this guy reading my mind or what? "I feel like the angel's present on Jesus’ birthday are very disappointed that their message didn't stick."
The song carried on to it's third stanza, "And ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow, Look now! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing: O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing."
"Nope, that has all become a pipe dream. This time of year there is no rest for the weary bent over forms of the Christmas shopper. I'm sure this wasn't what the angels' message was about."
I looked at the stranger. "You don't shop for Christmas?"
"I don't shop at all for family, we're too numerous, We just try to provide for the needy. My family doesn’t need anything, and overeating is just as wasteful as over owning. We celebrate Christmas peacefully, and respectfully, no strain on the emotions, just togetherness.”
Reflecting on this I realized the most joy I had was buying for the forgotten seniors at the Salvation Army. Turning back to the shopper I was amazed at how fast he had disappeared, nothing was left of him but a few feathers in his seat!
On I trudged through the mall, being pushed aside by panicked last minute spenders, till I came to the Winter Wonder Land. Santa was being plied with kids making their Christmas requests; no, demands. A few even complained about last years gifts breaking or not being received at all. It was so commercial it sickened me. One little boy even mentioned the brother he asked for came eight months late as a girl! He didn't count that as a Christmas gift and he wanted a refund! His mother looked aghast, holding onto her young daughter. The scene didn't encourage family domicity.
"Isn't he ludicrous?" A bearded man questioned. "A red suit and fat belly! Give me a break! Any one spending that much time building toys, hauling them around and delivering them should be in good physical shape. He looks like a comic figure, it's no wonder the kids cry and scream as they're placed on his lap! Just looking at him makes me want to shed tears! Just look at him! He's a poster child for obesity and diabetes!"
"I was just trying to recall which wise man appeared at Jesus' place wearing that outfit, and falling through a chimney!" I answered, giggling.
"You're right, Nicholas didn't appear till three hundred or so years latter, I don't mind saying he was a good looking guy, a bishop, who started off giving away his wealth to poor girls who would be sold into slavery without a proper dowry."
"Is that so?" I asked. Again with the poor. "Why didn't you call him St. Nicholas?" I noticed the obvious omission from the lips of the trim gentleman.
"Because he didn't ask for special favors, being canonized, he just did what was expected of him as a servant of the Most High. All followers of God are saints." Boy, what a powerful statement; I’m a saint! I sure didn't feel like one right now. We listened while Santa queried if a youngster had been good or bad.
"Thank heavens Jesus came when were all sinners. If he waited till we'd had a good year...well we'd still be waiting for his first appearance." The stranger stated, his voice fading.
I turned to see an empty space between me and a young mother, who was staring at me oddly,as though she thought I was nuts. What was her problem and how did my temporary companion escape this crowd without displacing anyone?
I pushed my way through the barrier of bodies, stepping on several toes eliciting special suggestions for me; things I couldn't possibly achieve physically, how could they use words like that in front of kids. It's a wonder any child got a gift for being good if they followed their parents examples!
The next display in merchants heaven was a Nativity scene with live animals located next to a store selling...nativity scenes, what else? Great, even the most sacred event was reduced to a packaged item!
"What a peaceful scene." A rough looking man wearing a tool belt sighed. "Reminds me of my son's birthday so long ago." "Was he born in a barn?" I joked. "Yes, actually, we were on vacation and didn't make it to the hospital in time. We were pretty poor but we were together and healthy. The owners of the barn were surprised to see us there, the way they adored my son, you'd think they'd never seen a newborn before, and them raising animals!" He glanced around at the store‘s customers. "He never had a birthday as full of anxiety as this, truth be told he never had a birthday; one we celebrated anyway. He never asked for one, in fact, he was more into giving than receiving. A few years latter visitors from another country came who gave us some extravagant presents to help us get a new lease on life, but that only happened once."
"Your son sounds special, where is he now?"
"He died young. I never saw him grow up, his mother raised him right though. She watched him give his life as the ultimate gift to the poor and needy.
I stared at this unknown gentlemen in astonishment. He was pretty fixated on the stage in front of us. Reliving memories of being poor, aided by foreigners, separated from his son and yet happy and content about it. He walked away and vanished into the mob, humming Silent Night.
That was it. I made one quick stop for my gift list and headed home. As I pulled out of the parking lot I saw the three men I had conversed with walking...up. Their feet weren't touching the ground. Looking over their shoulders at me they gave me the high five. On reflex I high fived back, then looked about sheepishly to see if I was being observed. Hump back took off his coat revealing a full set of wings. He soared off at such a speed it appeared like a comet had been flung through the heavens. The second guy jumped into a wagon that he had whistled for, (as though he were summoning a taxi,) drawn by some unusual looking deer, the back of the cart was loaded with sacks filled with blankets, coats and food. The third guy was met by a lovely young woman with a shawl over her head. They slowly dematerialized, kissing and hugging. I blinked my eyes and hit the gas petal. I don’t recollect a recent head injury! Could this be the result of holiday fatigue?!
At home I labeled cards to family and friends explaining that I donated to various charities in their names. I couldn't have found better gifts for them than to help someone that didn't have everything they needed. Then, pouring some eggnog and settling into my lounge chair I pulled out my bible and read the Christmas story with new eyes.
Math 1:18- 2:15Rom. 5:8Eph. 2:1-10Gal 4:4-5
bad weather?
At first the rain was welcomed. The land was parched and the heat was insufferable. The gentle rain that fell for a few days helped cool the land and it's inhabitants, some of whom danced in the down fall like childern. Business picked up in my casino/escort service because outside activities were out of the question. My girls were bringing in the dough, large denomination bills being tucked into their g-strings as they danced on stage. The drinks were flowing and money was rolling in. But after a week it became monotonous. Some streets were under water and impassable so customers started going to establishments closer to home. We started getting customers whose cars got water damaged outside our doors. These became long term quests as the tow trucks put them on waiting lists. Eventually even the tow trucks couldn't make it up the hill to our place because the streets were inaccessible. Moods got uneven and unpredictable as the rain wore on our nerves.
Going into the second, almost third week of rain, the lower roads were completely submerged and emergency evacuations were being issued. We were hearing of people dying in flash floodings as their cars were swept off the streets and into newly formed rivers. Houses were destroyed and people were stranded on upper levels of apartment buildings. News broadcasts of looting, murders and rapes.Some of my employees had called in days earlier and were leaving town till things got better. The problem was there was no place that was better.
The news carried weather reports nation wide and globally of unusually long, heavy storms. All regions below sea level were wiped out! It was unbelievable. I had an apartment above my place of business, along with some of my girls that lived here. We were getting extremely concerned as we were imprisoned in the building. It wasn't just me and my renters incarcerated here, we still had people from off the streets, and customers who had been stuck here after coming to be serviced by one of my girls and hadn't been able to leave. We had to make arrangements for total strangers to stay with us, mostly society's riff raff, good people didn't gamble, screw or drink. There was no way we could get out. The food delivery trucks had ceased coming a long time ago. That wasn't as bad as the liquor trucks not coming. My rougher patrons were going into delirium tremors and nasty behavior. My girls and I stayed armed for protection, the bouncers were working overtime without thought of getting paid. Violence was erupting spontaneously and frequently among the clients and staff. I had to shoot some ruffians going through withdrawals in self defense, it slowed some action down. An ugly breed, drinkers and gamblers. Drug usage didn't help the situation.
The rain was seeping in under the doors and by the fourth week was almost to the second floor. We had started carting things upstairs that were helpful for daily life, like any food that we could find and candles! Water was unnecessary, we just held bottles outside the windows. We all stayed in front of the television watching the weather channel, looking and praying for relief. We had called 911 and reported our predicament and were on a list with others in the same situation, stranded in buildings. Authorities knew where we were and would get to us as soon as they could. We phoned family and friends to check in on them. Most of them didn't answer the phone. This added to our anxieties. We received no cheer from the ones that were able to answer. We couldn't be with those we loved as they feared death and destruction. I heard my nieces and nephews wailing in the background at my sister's house. It would be the last time I heard their voices or they, mine.
We watched the news as people were being airlifted out but planes were crashing because they ran out of fuel trying to land on runways that were now on the bottom of the ocean! The problem wasn't being solved because the evacuees were discovering that where ever they went eventually became engulfed in water and they needed to move on. The higher they went the higher they had to go. Boats at sea were being capsized by enormous tidal waves. Fires erupted all over but were quenched by the unceasing rain. The looting had stopped and the fight for survival began in earnest. Reports of people killing their families and then themselves. Cowards. Eventually we were cut off from the world as television and radio stations were struck by lightning. My phones went dead so we had no way of tracking the progress of our rescuers which by now we were pretty sure weren't coming. We were totally in the dark with strangers in our midst, no idea of the world situation, no hope of being saved. Fearing for families we couldn't contact, assuming they were now gone.
Boats rowed or sailed past us. The rain filled the cavities of open boats eventually causing them to sink. Some larger motorized boats passed us. People floating on rafts and lumber passed us, alive and dead. Dead animals passed us. Clothes, couches, tables passed us. The stench of decaying bodies and trash was tremendous.
The water here was up to the ceiling now and starting to enter the attic on the fifth week. We crawled out the windows and pulled ourselves up to the roof. The scenery was terrifyingly bleak. We no longer saw any aircraft pass overhead. No buildings were visible, just occasional rooftops with lethargic people scattered about. Some boats pulled up to us and took on as many of us as they could. They couldn't help all of us no matter how much we offered them, money being valueless now. They gave us no word of encouragement about the sights they had passed. They had seen nothing that looked positive while they were adrift. As some of the boats went into the distance we could see them rolled upside down by the waves. We watched as people tried to swim back, unsuccessfully. The current was too horrendous for land lovers without floatation devices who were undernourished and fighting flotsam that had become weapons of destruction, smashing against heads, mercifully killing instantly. Those that had just recently been with us were now fish food. Yes, here in what had been the heart of America was now a gigantic fish aquarium. Sharks and other carnivorous amphibians swam around in the waters looking for quick meals, we were now take out food. The fish could dine on Chinese, Mexican , Italian, French, American or Spanish cuisine.
We started to have hope when a large vessel came into view at the end of the sixth week. Hope didn't last long as we watched it plow into a submerged roof and take on water. One of its life boats was swept free by the fast moving waters and was hurled in our direction. I grabbed it successfully after four attempts. The girls and I crawled in and we launched off, aware we were just prolonging the inevitable. One girl died the minute she sat down. The others were to depleted of reserves to cry. We had no energy left to shed tears for a friend. We weren't stupid. We were all going to join her soon.
I started to fade. The rain had finally ended but I wouldn't be alive much longer. Without food and constant exposure to the elements I was burning up with fever. All the others with me had finally succumbed to death from starvation and lost body heat. I would have tossed them off the boat but even their lifeless bodies gave me some comfortless company. I seemed to be the last living soul on a liquid globe. In a haze of delirium I heard animal sounds in the distance. Feebly opening my eyes I spied a luxury liner passing by. I had to be hallucinating. Raising my gaze to the deck I saw two gorillas and two elephants looking over the edge, the first birds I'd seen in weeks, sitting on their backs. Were those two giraffes hanging their heads out of the bottom windows with monkeys hanging on their necks? To weak to call for help, my eyes closed, permanently. I didn't see the dove fly back to the boat with an olive branch in it's mouth.
Gen 6-9
Going into the second, almost third week of rain, the lower roads were completely submerged and emergency evacuations were being issued. We were hearing of people dying in flash floodings as their cars were swept off the streets and into newly formed rivers. Houses were destroyed and people were stranded on upper levels of apartment buildings. News broadcasts of looting, murders and rapes.Some of my employees had called in days earlier and were leaving town till things got better. The problem was there was no place that was better.
The news carried weather reports nation wide and globally of unusually long, heavy storms. All regions below sea level were wiped out! It was unbelievable. I had an apartment above my place of business, along with some of my girls that lived here. We were getting extremely concerned as we were imprisoned in the building. It wasn't just me and my renters incarcerated here, we still had people from off the streets, and customers who had been stuck here after coming to be serviced by one of my girls and hadn't been able to leave. We had to make arrangements for total strangers to stay with us, mostly society's riff raff, good people didn't gamble, screw or drink. There was no way we could get out. The food delivery trucks had ceased coming a long time ago. That wasn't as bad as the liquor trucks not coming. My rougher patrons were going into delirium tremors and nasty behavior. My girls and I stayed armed for protection, the bouncers were working overtime without thought of getting paid. Violence was erupting spontaneously and frequently among the clients and staff. I had to shoot some ruffians going through withdrawals in self defense, it slowed some action down. An ugly breed, drinkers and gamblers. Drug usage didn't help the situation.
The rain was seeping in under the doors and by the fourth week was almost to the second floor. We had started carting things upstairs that were helpful for daily life, like any food that we could find and candles! Water was unnecessary, we just held bottles outside the windows. We all stayed in front of the television watching the weather channel, looking and praying for relief. We had called 911 and reported our predicament and were on a list with others in the same situation, stranded in buildings. Authorities knew where we were and would get to us as soon as they could. We phoned family and friends to check in on them. Most of them didn't answer the phone. This added to our anxieties. We received no cheer from the ones that were able to answer. We couldn't be with those we loved as they feared death and destruction. I heard my nieces and nephews wailing in the background at my sister's house. It would be the last time I heard their voices or they, mine.
We watched the news as people were being airlifted out but planes were crashing because they ran out of fuel trying to land on runways that were now on the bottom of the ocean! The problem wasn't being solved because the evacuees were discovering that where ever they went eventually became engulfed in water and they needed to move on. The higher they went the higher they had to go. Boats at sea were being capsized by enormous tidal waves. Fires erupted all over but were quenched by the unceasing rain. The looting had stopped and the fight for survival began in earnest. Reports of people killing their families and then themselves. Cowards. Eventually we were cut off from the world as television and radio stations were struck by lightning. My phones went dead so we had no way of tracking the progress of our rescuers which by now we were pretty sure weren't coming. We were totally in the dark with strangers in our midst, no idea of the world situation, no hope of being saved. Fearing for families we couldn't contact, assuming they were now gone.
Boats rowed or sailed past us. The rain filled the cavities of open boats eventually causing them to sink. Some larger motorized boats passed us. People floating on rafts and lumber passed us, alive and dead. Dead animals passed us. Clothes, couches, tables passed us. The stench of decaying bodies and trash was tremendous.
The water here was up to the ceiling now and starting to enter the attic on the fifth week. We crawled out the windows and pulled ourselves up to the roof. The scenery was terrifyingly bleak. We no longer saw any aircraft pass overhead. No buildings were visible, just occasional rooftops with lethargic people scattered about. Some boats pulled up to us and took on as many of us as they could. They couldn't help all of us no matter how much we offered them, money being valueless now. They gave us no word of encouragement about the sights they had passed. They had seen nothing that looked positive while they were adrift. As some of the boats went into the distance we could see them rolled upside down by the waves. We watched as people tried to swim back, unsuccessfully. The current was too horrendous for land lovers without floatation devices who were undernourished and fighting flotsam that had become weapons of destruction, smashing against heads, mercifully killing instantly. Those that had just recently been with us were now fish food. Yes, here in what had been the heart of America was now a gigantic fish aquarium. Sharks and other carnivorous amphibians swam around in the waters looking for quick meals, we were now take out food. The fish could dine on Chinese, Mexican , Italian, French, American or Spanish cuisine.
We started to have hope when a large vessel came into view at the end of the sixth week. Hope didn't last long as we watched it plow into a submerged roof and take on water. One of its life boats was swept free by the fast moving waters and was hurled in our direction. I grabbed it successfully after four attempts. The girls and I crawled in and we launched off, aware we were just prolonging the inevitable. One girl died the minute she sat down. The others were to depleted of reserves to cry. We had no energy left to shed tears for a friend. We weren't stupid. We were all going to join her soon.
I started to fade. The rain had finally ended but I wouldn't be alive much longer. Without food and constant exposure to the elements I was burning up with fever. All the others with me had finally succumbed to death from starvation and lost body heat. I would have tossed them off the boat but even their lifeless bodies gave me some comfortless company. I seemed to be the last living soul on a liquid globe. In a haze of delirium I heard animal sounds in the distance. Feebly opening my eyes I spied a luxury liner passing by. I had to be hallucinating. Raising my gaze to the deck I saw two gorillas and two elephants looking over the edge, the first birds I'd seen in weeks, sitting on their backs. Were those two giraffes hanging their heads out of the bottom windows with monkeys hanging on their necks? To weak to call for help, my eyes closed, permanently. I didn't see the dove fly back to the boat with an olive branch in it's mouth.
Gen 6-9
Samaritan
The rain was miserable. No, the rain was needed, driving in it was miserable. A Lexus sped past us on the left side with several youth wavingS, and saluting us with beer bottles. A jalopy was hot on their heels,(wheels). Racing on a night like this, no wonder the death rate is high for young adults. I was in a church van on our way back from a long revival, tired and exhausted, envisioning pulling back my quilts, fluffing up my pillows, scooping Scruffy up in my arms and sleeping for twenty years. My name? Van Winkle, Mrs. Rip Van Winkle. Oh, of course I was also thinking of the magnificent messages I spent the last few nights listening to. Thunder cracked, lightening exploded across the sky and a shadowy figure leaped at us from the road side.
We skidded, nearly colliding with him, but maintained our ground and continued.
"Shouldn't we stop to see what's wrong?" I asked the driver.
"It's Friday night, he's drunk. That's what's wrong." The minister informed me from the passenger seat.
"It's Friday night for us too, and we're not drunk." I explained.
I got the "look" from several of those present. I watched out the back window. The poor man was staggering down the street after us. Rain pouring, lightening coloring the sky and thunder clapping. The church's whole caravan passed him. Well, one church, one body, one mind; except for me, the errant nerve cell. This human neglect angered me. Years ago that could have been me. But for the grace of God, there goes I.
We got deposited in the church parking lot and disbanded to our cars. Every one said "God bless" to all and carried their bibles home. My quilt would have to wait; I had a job to do. I retraced the path to where I had last seen the Drunk. There he was, sitting by a tree, holding his head and vomiting. My umbrella would be useless for me and too late for him. I slowly approached Drunk. His head was bleeding, his clothes torn and ripped. Blood oozed out of his nose and mouth. Recent cuts and bumps covered what I could see of his body. No better time to be sick. Thank heavens it was pouring. It diluted the stench.
His clothes had been costly at one time; I made a mental note to ask him which Goodwill he shopped at.
"Help me." Drunk pleaded, his words slurred. "My car...money...cell...gone." He stammered with considerable effort in a non English speaking undertone. That was the high price of alcohol. It took everything you owned and trashed it sending it into a land of memories. This guy appeared to still be in his teens, early twenties.
Now that I was up close and personal with Drunk, what should I do? I hadn't thought past finding him. I couldn't take him home and he obviously had been in a barroom brawl. This is Texas, are they still called that? He needed medical attention. Rain was plastering my clothes to my bones; exposing sensitive female anatomy and making me feel exposed. Thank heavens my make up wasn't smeared, it was simply rinsed away. I glanced at my warm car and thought of just leaving after all but instead got behind Drunk and lifting him to his feet steered him to his awaiting coach. Cars continued past, not bothering to stop to render aide.
The owners of one car did slow down enough to yell out the window,†Get a room, will ya!"
Water pooled on the floorboards and soaked into the seats. Man, was my transportation going to smell sweet in the morning. Mildew is a good Yankee Candle fragrance that hasn't been marketed yet, and it has such potential. I got a whiff of vomit once again in the closed car. Down went the windows letting in more moisture. Drunk's shirt wasn't completely rain washed off and carried "herbal scents" of his last meal.
I drove to the nearest Medical institute and got help in the emergency room parking lot. At the admissions desk I signed my life away, confirming I'd be responsible for the bills. (could I really be held liable for them?) There goes my cruise I'd been saving up for for ten years. Funny the longer I saved, the cost of the cruise escalated. They should consider pre paid plans, like funeral homes.
With no I.D, no idea of previous medical conditions etc, they sutured his lacerations, covered him in a clean gown and admitted him for observation due to his head injuries. I was observing my cruise ship leave the harbor; without me.
Feeling I more than did my job I finally headed to the warmth and comfort of my loving pooch and bed. Scruffy met me at the door when she heard my keys. As I stepped into the foyer she greeted me with a happy bark that slowly reverted to a sniff and growl. She backed away from me, keeping eye contact as though I might jump her and cause harm.
"Come here, girl". She proceeded to put distance between us, ears laying against her head, tail beginning to droop. The dog eats her own vomit on occasion and can't stand the way I smell now! How flattering, what loyalty!
The next day, early in the morning I returned to the hospital to find T.V crews, in vans and helicopters, police and lots of fancy automobiles surrounding the hospital. Was that a limousine with a chauffeur? I made it past all the commotion with great difficulty. How could emergency patients get past all this hoop la. I hadn't seen the news this morning, what the heck had happened last night?
I located the elevators when I heard a whoop. "There she is!"
I had to turn to see who caused such excitement, expecting to see a movie star or some celebrity. People were pointing at me! An army of reporters rushed in my direction, raising a sense of panic that caused me to brace myself against the closed elevator doors and raise my hands in defense.
"It's not me! I didn't do it." I screamed falling on my butt when the elevator doors opened.
A suit approached me. Two suits. Someone helped me to my feet. A lot of important looking people crowded around me. Microphones where shoved in my face. Police elbowed their way to the front and escorted me to a private room with several of the Suits. I was terrified. What have I done!!
"I want a lawyer!" I bellowed.
"Calm down m'am. It's alright." With time it was explained to me that the young man I rescued last night was an ambassador’s son who had been way-layed by carjackers. The Lexus that had passed us with the beer drinkers had been his misappropriated auto! Don't ask me to repeat the country's name, I'd never be able to pronounce it without causing a war, but the ambassador was extremely grateful to me for saving his only son.
I had intervened in a deadly situation, pulling the victim out of the jaws of death from exposure. I was a hero. Me. Mrs. Rip Van Winkle. Wait till I tell Scruffy who she rejected last night! I was being offered massive reward money I couldn't turn down with out offending the ambassador's native customs. No problem, I don't want to be offensive. I wonder if it would be polite to ask if the young man had insurance.
Getting home to peace a quiet once again I received a phone call from my Pastor, who had witnessed my story on live T.V updates throughout the day.
"Good job." He informed me. "You're a credit to our congregation." Then he went on to remind me of my tithing obligations, giving back to God what he made available to me.
I agreed with him wholeheartedly. I was already planning on giving my tenth; that is once I found a church that didn't think everyone stumbling around on
Friday nights was intoxicated. Then again, that would have to wait till Scruffy and I returned from our impending cruise, compliments of Mr. Ambassador (and God).
Luke 10:30-37
Lost
Gosh, what a beautiful view. I sat down on a boulder and unloaded my portable artist kit. The mountains, trees and setting sun were too resplendent to ignore and not record. My pencil etched lines on the paper that eventually resembled the panorama I was witness too, but was a poor substitute to God's own handiwork. I didn't notice the time till I realized I could no longer see what I was doing. I reloaded my tote bag and readied myself to return to camp.
No, silly, that's the wrong way, I told myself and changed directions. No. This isn't correct either. None of these trees looked familiar because they all looked similar. I turned in a small circle. There wasn't a path for me to retrace. I remember the guide saying something about not getting off the marked trails, I only remember it because he repeated that one bit of advice thirty times in as many minutes. Some thing horrible occurred to me. Either I'm lost or my group is and since we set up tents I doubt it was the group. My spirits were beginning to drastically droop.
I reached into my bag for the flashlight-radio-compass gadget I purchased for this trip. Okay. I have the arrow pointing north, now what? I didn't know if I I needed to head east, west, north or south. So, having a compass isn't necessarily helpful, but at least I have light to stumble around with. I picked a path the scientific way. Eenie meenie, minie, moe. Never mind the old saying, if lost stay put till found. Boy, do I wish I'd sprung for the global positioning device. The next time I'm invited on a camping trip I'll do more than think twice.
Trekking onward I heard music so I followed the melodies. Not wholesome lyrics. They sounded like that awful rap junk that plays havoc with women. I switched the flashlight off and peered over some bushes at the private party. Two men and a "lady" were laughing raucously and guzzling alcoholic beverages. The woman looked pretty busy entertaining the two males and she didn't seem the type that wanted company. One guy finished his bottle and tossed it backwards where it landed close to my feet. They had on leather vests with wool lining. I don't plan on letting these wolves in sheep clothing discover that there is another female in the vicinity. No matter how scared and lonely I am, I have no intentions of going from the frying pan to the fire. I slowly backtracked. No way they'd hear me with all the noise they were making. I thanked God for giving me the common sense to prefer isolation to a worse situation, I thought as I returned to what now seemed a less wilder frontier. I wish I drank, because I sure could use a beer.
The sun had gone west hours ago and I was feeling the cold down in my bones. Flashlight glancing off objects all around me I searched for some form of shelter. I feared the ground's creepy crawlies so I found a tall oak with a slant to it that I could climb. Nestling down on a broad branch feet from the ground I positioned myself to sleep in such a way that I'd jerk awake if I lost my balance. With my sense of equilibrium, that was taking a huge chance.I poked around in my knapsack for some food. Peppermints and two energy bars were hiding on the bottom. I said grace over my meager meal before chomping down. Boy, was it getting cooler. I retrieved my bible from the tote and read by flashlight for a while warming myself with God's lamp, the lamp of his word. I pulled my arms out of the t-shirt sleeves and held them inside against my body and tucked my knees up to my chest, then yanked my shorts lower down over my legs. I looked like I was returning to my mother's womb. It was times like these I wished I smoked. At least I'd have matches to start a fire(on a wooden surface, I'd have plenty of fuel!) The woods were resonant with animal sounds. Some sounded friendly, some didn't. Lord protect me, I whispered, not wanting the animals to hear me. I know you spent forty days in the wilderness with wild beasts and came out unharmed,let me do the same, please. The coyote I hear howling is getting me alarmed.
I slept, so to speak, till the first glint of dawn. Birds were in the limbs above me splattering me with...never mind. I was stiff, Boy, was I stiff. I placed a finger over my left wrist to check my pulse. If I was dead I wasn't going to bother getting up. Nope, one, two, three. There was definitely a beat, and I sensed just the slightest hint of body heat.
I descended gracefully (with a thud) to the leafy floor. For the first ten minutes I walked hunkered over like my ancestors did 50,000 years ago. My spine didn't want to straighten out. How the hell did Jane always look so limber in those movies.? Must have had something to do with Tarzan. She probably never got a good nights sleep, but if I'd been out on a limb with Tarzan I wouldn't be feeling no pain either, or wasting my time on sleep!! I probably wouldn't even notice it was cold. I could see my breath on the morning air but I was getting warm. Okay, time to change my line of thinking before it turns into full fledged lusting, God help me bring my thoughts back into captivity. Right now finding food for myself should be a priority.
Onward I went. I should eventually find human life. I wasn't in the Appalachians so I should come up on a freeway or something soon, with a nice roadside diner. Something growled, startling me. Perking my ears I listened again. Grrr. Grrr... Oh, heck. Was it my stomach reminding me to feed it? No. That's not it. It was coming from the other side of these shrubs. Looking over the low branches, carefully, I discovered a mother bear feeding her cub berries. Lots of tasty, plumb, blue berries. My mouth watered. Could I take on a bear. Kind David could. Why didn't I pack a sling shot?. Hind sight is always twenty, twenty and if I could buy it in advance I'd pay a pretty penny.
That was a big bear. I mean, a really big bear. Did I mention it was a big bear? Okay, be still, I told myself. With purposeful self control I remained motionless. Well, not completely, something moved. It was wet and warm and soaked my socks and shoes. Mother bear sat up and sniffed. Her enormous head with equally sized teeth rotated towards me. Our eyes met. Don't move. Don't move. That was meant for both of us. Her sniffer went into overdrive. She got up on her hind legs and stretched upward, then roared. Don't move. Don't move. More wet warm feelings went down my legs. Mother took another nostril full of air and swatted junior, motioning for him to head back to their den. Before her tail disappeared, I swear she flicked it at me. I started breathing again. "Oh, yeah." I called after her. "What makes you think you smell so sweet!" Rejected by a bear! I must have smelled like rotten meat!
I helped myself to the berries. Lots of berries. I immediately thanked God for being in control of the bear and blessed my food. My lips and hands were taking on a lovely blue shade to highlight the white sprinkles on my head, arms and clothes deposited by the afore mentioned birdies. These sure would go good on pancakes. Why am I torturing myself? Eat, don't think. Just eat. And eat fast before some other creature decides to join the breakfast table. I packed away as many berries as I was able.
"Cathy Miller!!" "Cathy Miller!" Okay, how many Cathy's are wandering around out here? Was using my last name absolutely necessary? What if I was Cathy Wilson, should I remain silent? I recognized the voice as the trail leader's. "Over here!" I answered back, running towards the disembodied voice, while thanking God for his help and protection, and giving myself a good mental spanking.
We practically collided with each other, coming around a mound of earth. I came to a stop. He skidded to a stop. He stared at me. All white spotted like a leper, blue tinted like I had been dead for three days, and smelling likewise. Dirt, now in the form of mud, clung to the wet, not discreet, areas of my outfit. I shudder to imagine how my make-up had fared, I know I was having a bad hair day. Should I shoot him to eliminate any witnesses to my unsightly condition and go deeper into uncharted territory? Start a hermit's life. Never to be seen again. Mourned at a body-less memorial. These were comforting possibilities but I doubt I'd survive long without modern facilities.
"You're not Cathy Miller. She was an attractive woman." He informed me."May I see some I.D? You look more like Phyllis Diller."
I was no longer eager to get back to civilization."Get me to a nice hot bath and quit the comedy routine." I said in desperation.
"I should be allowed some comments, I've spent a good deal of time looking for a misplaced camper. One who is way old enough to follow rules." He stressed.
"I wasn't lost. Jesus knew where I was." I huffed, irritated with the age quip, and started up the way he had come from.
"Look lady, If you're going to change tour guides in the middle of a trip, you don't get a refund." He retorted coming up the rear. I wanted to box his ear!
When we had gotten within a two mile radius of the campsite,the guide had walkie talkie'ed our estimated time of arrival and told them to be prepared for the worst. I glared at him. He wasn't living up to his potential as a tour guide! If he made another wise crack he wouldn't be living at all. The advance warning gave my ninety nine church friends a chance to prepare an elaborate breakfast for me and heat up a tub of water to soak in, behind a barrier of blankets. As we came into view through the jungle, loud applause and cheering commenced. The lost sheep had been found and brought back to the fold, and my friends made me feel like gold.
No, silly, that's the wrong way, I told myself and changed directions. No. This isn't correct either. None of these trees looked familiar because they all looked similar. I turned in a small circle. There wasn't a path for me to retrace. I remember the guide saying something about not getting off the marked trails, I only remember it because he repeated that one bit of advice thirty times in as many minutes. Some thing horrible occurred to me. Either I'm lost or my group is and since we set up tents I doubt it was the group. My spirits were beginning to drastically droop.
I reached into my bag for the flashlight-radio-compass gadget I purchased for this trip. Okay. I have the arrow pointing north, now what? I didn't know if I I needed to head east, west, north or south. So, having a compass isn't necessarily helpful, but at least I have light to stumble around with. I picked a path the scientific way. Eenie meenie, minie, moe. Never mind the old saying, if lost stay put till found. Boy, do I wish I'd sprung for the global positioning device. The next time I'm invited on a camping trip I'll do more than think twice.
Trekking onward I heard music so I followed the melodies. Not wholesome lyrics. They sounded like that awful rap junk that plays havoc with women. I switched the flashlight off and peered over some bushes at the private party. Two men and a "lady" were laughing raucously and guzzling alcoholic beverages. The woman looked pretty busy entertaining the two males and she didn't seem the type that wanted company. One guy finished his bottle and tossed it backwards where it landed close to my feet. They had on leather vests with wool lining. I don't plan on letting these wolves in sheep clothing discover that there is another female in the vicinity. No matter how scared and lonely I am, I have no intentions of going from the frying pan to the fire. I slowly backtracked. No way they'd hear me with all the noise they were making. I thanked God for giving me the common sense to prefer isolation to a worse situation, I thought as I returned to what now seemed a less wilder frontier. I wish I drank, because I sure could use a beer.
The sun had gone west hours ago and I was feeling the cold down in my bones. Flashlight glancing off objects all around me I searched for some form of shelter. I feared the ground's creepy crawlies so I found a tall oak with a slant to it that I could climb. Nestling down on a broad branch feet from the ground I positioned myself to sleep in such a way that I'd jerk awake if I lost my balance. With my sense of equilibrium, that was taking a huge chance.I poked around in my knapsack for some food. Peppermints and two energy bars were hiding on the bottom. I said grace over my meager meal before chomping down. Boy, was it getting cooler. I retrieved my bible from the tote and read by flashlight for a while warming myself with God's lamp, the lamp of his word. I pulled my arms out of the t-shirt sleeves and held them inside against my body and tucked my knees up to my chest, then yanked my shorts lower down over my legs. I looked like I was returning to my mother's womb. It was times like these I wished I smoked. At least I'd have matches to start a fire(on a wooden surface, I'd have plenty of fuel!) The woods were resonant with animal sounds. Some sounded friendly, some didn't. Lord protect me, I whispered, not wanting the animals to hear me. I know you spent forty days in the wilderness with wild beasts and came out unharmed,let me do the same, please. The coyote I hear howling is getting me alarmed.
I slept, so to speak, till the first glint of dawn. Birds were in the limbs above me splattering me with...never mind. I was stiff, Boy, was I stiff. I placed a finger over my left wrist to check my pulse. If I was dead I wasn't going to bother getting up. Nope, one, two, three. There was definitely a beat, and I sensed just the slightest hint of body heat.
I descended gracefully (with a thud) to the leafy floor. For the first ten minutes I walked hunkered over like my ancestors did 50,000 years ago. My spine didn't want to straighten out. How the hell did Jane always look so limber in those movies.? Must have had something to do with Tarzan. She probably never got a good nights sleep, but if I'd been out on a limb with Tarzan I wouldn't be feeling no pain either, or wasting my time on sleep!! I probably wouldn't even notice it was cold. I could see my breath on the morning air but I was getting warm. Okay, time to change my line of thinking before it turns into full fledged lusting, God help me bring my thoughts back into captivity. Right now finding food for myself should be a priority.
Onward I went. I should eventually find human life. I wasn't in the Appalachians so I should come up on a freeway or something soon, with a nice roadside diner. Something growled, startling me. Perking my ears I listened again. Grrr. Grrr... Oh, heck. Was it my stomach reminding me to feed it? No. That's not it. It was coming from the other side of these shrubs. Looking over the low branches, carefully, I discovered a mother bear feeding her cub berries. Lots of tasty, plumb, blue berries. My mouth watered. Could I take on a bear. Kind David could. Why didn't I pack a sling shot?. Hind sight is always twenty, twenty and if I could buy it in advance I'd pay a pretty penny.
That was a big bear. I mean, a really big bear. Did I mention it was a big bear? Okay, be still, I told myself. With purposeful self control I remained motionless. Well, not completely, something moved. It was wet and warm and soaked my socks and shoes. Mother bear sat up and sniffed. Her enormous head with equally sized teeth rotated towards me. Our eyes met. Don't move. Don't move. That was meant for both of us. Her sniffer went into overdrive. She got up on her hind legs and stretched upward, then roared. Don't move. Don't move. More wet warm feelings went down my legs. Mother took another nostril full of air and swatted junior, motioning for him to head back to their den. Before her tail disappeared, I swear she flicked it at me. I started breathing again. "Oh, yeah." I called after her. "What makes you think you smell so sweet!" Rejected by a bear! I must have smelled like rotten meat!
I helped myself to the berries. Lots of berries. I immediately thanked God for being in control of the bear and blessed my food. My lips and hands were taking on a lovely blue shade to highlight the white sprinkles on my head, arms and clothes deposited by the afore mentioned birdies. These sure would go good on pancakes. Why am I torturing myself? Eat, don't think. Just eat. And eat fast before some other creature decides to join the breakfast table. I packed away as many berries as I was able.
"Cathy Miller!!" "Cathy Miller!" Okay, how many Cathy's are wandering around out here? Was using my last name absolutely necessary? What if I was Cathy Wilson, should I remain silent? I recognized the voice as the trail leader's. "Over here!" I answered back, running towards the disembodied voice, while thanking God for his help and protection, and giving myself a good mental spanking.
We practically collided with each other, coming around a mound of earth. I came to a stop. He skidded to a stop. He stared at me. All white spotted like a leper, blue tinted like I had been dead for three days, and smelling likewise. Dirt, now in the form of mud, clung to the wet, not discreet, areas of my outfit. I shudder to imagine how my make-up had fared, I know I was having a bad hair day. Should I shoot him to eliminate any witnesses to my unsightly condition and go deeper into uncharted territory? Start a hermit's life. Never to be seen again. Mourned at a body-less memorial. These were comforting possibilities but I doubt I'd survive long without modern facilities.
"You're not Cathy Miller. She was an attractive woman." He informed me."May I see some I.D? You look more like Phyllis Diller."
I was no longer eager to get back to civilization."Get me to a nice hot bath and quit the comedy routine." I said in desperation.
"I should be allowed some comments, I've spent a good deal of time looking for a misplaced camper. One who is way old enough to follow rules." He stressed.
"I wasn't lost. Jesus knew where I was." I huffed, irritated with the age quip, and started up the way he had come from.
"Look lady, If you're going to change tour guides in the middle of a trip, you don't get a refund." He retorted coming up the rear. I wanted to box his ear!
When we had gotten within a two mile radius of the campsite,the guide had walkie talkie'ed our estimated time of arrival and told them to be prepared for the worst. I glared at him. He wasn't living up to his potential as a tour guide! If he made another wise crack he wouldn't be living at all. The advance warning gave my ninety nine church friends a chance to prepare an elaborate breakfast for me and heat up a tub of water to soak in, behind a barrier of blankets. As we came into view through the jungle, loud applause and cheering commenced. The lost sheep had been found and brought back to the fold, and my friends made me feel like gold.
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