Coffee! If I was going to make it home tonight I needed a highly caffeinated, over sized cup of coffee called an espresso! We should have gotten a room for the night I reflected with my twenty/twenty hindsight vision.
The sound of engines behind me turned my attention to the rear view mirror which was spotted with several headlights, looking like fireflies on steroids, spaced oddly about on the other wise deserted freeway. I squinted harder; oh, they were motorcycles, lots of them, and coming fast. They approached my bumper then divided in half sandwiching my car to look inside giving my spine a series of spasms. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and braced myself for the unexpected, praying without ceasing for God’s intervention.
My daughter Cindy, on the passenger side, looked up from her text messaging to see what was going on.
“Don’t make eye contact with them,” I warned keeping my gaze straight ahead while rowdy, disrespectful hoots and hollers filled my ears.
“What?” Cindy asked, “Do you think they might think we don’t see them?”
Scruffy, our maybe fifteen pound when wet terrier, got up on his hind legs and barked ferociously at our escorts. That a-boy, scare them off, I thought, hopelessly. I couldn’t fault Scruffy for his bravado as he showed his fangs but now I was wishing that we had thought the seventy pound male Rottweiler in the cage next to him at the shelter had put up more of a performance for adoption. Why did I go for cute instead of functional?
After the seven punks got their fill of rattling our nerves they popped a few wheelies holding tightly to their ape hangers (those large awkward handle bars that keep arms in the raised position, similar to the position police ask you to assume, how convenient!), gunned their engines and raced onwards revealing the patches on the back of their black leather jackets identifying their proud membership in a local gang. I started to breathe again but froze mid inhalation when another cycle whizzed past; the back marker. This one didn’t stay to unnerve us, but rushed on to catch up with his comrades. Scaredy cat, I thought, not brave enough to intimidate us on his own.
My eye lids were starting to sag over my pupils blocking my vision when I spotted the Starbucks sign. Do people see mirages at night in air conditioned cars? If so that is what I was hoping the gang that passed us had been! I could smell the coffee brewing the closer I got to the building. Thank you God, this was one of your small miracles, who would have thought on this long stretch of barren highway there would be a designer coffee shop. My guess is they targeted the truckers that sailed through here.
I bypassed the drive through window and parked near the front door so I could get out and stretch my legs and Cindy could walk Scruffy to the patch of grass that bulldozers and contractors had overlooked when they brought this delightful oasis to this region of the world. I prompted her to bring a plastic bag along in case Scruffy left something worth picking up; picking up and discarding. I also admonished her to stay in sight of the Coffee shop, it was late, dark, and we were far from home, yes, I know, most crimes happen within reach of your own front door, but still safety precautions must be adhered to.
After I downed one small cup of coffee with surprising speed, in front of an astonished clerk who imagined third degree burns erupting down my esophagus, I picked up the other two cups and headed back to my P.T Cruiser. There was Cindy, talking to a boy… man… young adult. A young adult with a black leather jacket and a helmet. A black leather jacket and helmet that I’d seen on a motor cycle recently. The boy/man personified the bad boy persona. I glanced about and rested my eyes on some bikes around the corner at the gas station. The owners were standing about inspecting Cindy and me from head to toe with expressions that didn’t pull warm fuzzies out of my heart, and despite the hot cups of coffee a strong icy sensation was spreading over my soul.
“Cindy, get into the car!” I said snapping the door open for emphasis.
“But mom-“
“Not buts young lady, in the car!”
“Mom, that was so rude!” Cindy informed me once she was seated and belted in to her seat.
“Don’t worry; I’m sure he’s used to it.”
“We were talking about-“
“I don’t care what you were talking about, that’s not the type of person you should be talking to at night in a parking lot filled with his I’m-looking-for-a-good-time-friends!” The volume of my voice had exceeded conversational levels.
“But-“
“This isn’t a talk show Cindy; I’m not interested in feedback.” I was too high on the emotional roller coaster to see the ground right now, picturing Cindy as a rag doll being passed around to all those…jerks!
Silence sprouted seeds that grew into thick thorny bushes for the next several miles, even Scruffy was subdued; I could tell because he was quiet with his eyes open.
Ping. Ping. Ping. Okay, what does that sound mean? The control panel’s little gas tank indicator was lit up and blinking at me, I raised my eyes to the gas gauge; the little pointer thingy was down near the empty zone. Great! I picked up my Iphone and tapped the Around me icon and searched for the nearest gas station. The one by the Starbucks of course, the next one down the road was miles away, down the dark, lonely , tree lined road in the middle of nowhere. Movies have been made with this scenario, two women and a dog stranded at night in unfamiliar territory hunted down by crazed mountain men. Whoa, I have to reign in my mental imageries or I won’t be able to prevent Cindy from panicking.
Okay, stay cool, I’m sure there is enough reserve to get me to the filling station. The car sputtered. Just a few more miles. The car sputtered again, coughed, wheezed and gave up the ghost. Oh, dear, why did I have to think of ghosts!
“What did you do now?” Cindy quizzed me, looking around the area and seeing no reason to make a pit stop. Scruffy was on his hind legs staring out the windows, drooling at all the trees, he felt sure he was in doggy heaven, things couldn’t get any better for him!
“Don’t be alarmed but we ran out of-
”
“Gas!” Cindy finished. “Mom, did you wake up this morning and tell yourself it was a good day to do something stupid!”
Okay, I deserved that, [kind of], but now is not the time to react, I must stay calm, okay, I must appear to be calm for Cindy’s sake, once her anger dissipates she’ll become a trembling mass of hysteria, like my interiors were at this moment. On the flip side, Scruffy was a trembling mass of slobbering jubilation as he eyed the trees off to the side of the road and envisioned the furry inhabitants. Oh, right, he could probably sense them on his doggy radar.
Opening my door I climbed out and headed to the trunk where my emergency supplies were. Snatching the blanket, flashlight/radio combo and a knapsack with extras I explained to Cindy the plan was to go a distance into the woods, in sight of the car and call for help. I’d read that staying inside a stranded car victimized you more if undesirables stopped because you were then a packaged treat, all they had to do was smash the windows and then…….let your imagination take over, better yet, read the newspapers,or the internet.
While Scruffy ran amuck marking out his territory with all the ammunition his little body possessed, (that dog could find any cloud’s silver lining!) Cindy and I got settled on a blanket a few yards away but in view of the car then I called the nearby gas station and asked if they did deliveries. They informed me they weren’t a pizza shop, so I tearfully explained my situation and they changed their tone; thankfully. When I disconnected there were no tears to wipe from my face, just a satisfied smile that the tear card had done its trick. I can be a real ham if necessary, a semester of drama class wasn’t wasted on this girl.
Oh great; the alarming sound of thunder peeled a layer off the night’s stillness. Next I spotted lightening. Now wait a minute, the lightening was running along the ground horizontally. Oh, no. It was the sound of approaching motorcycles! Please don’t let it be; but it was; the guys from our recent past. The first two cycles passed my car and halted, those following pulled up behind the car and seven rough looking dudes dismounted and began inspecting the unoccupied interior, scratching their bald tattooed heads and puzzling over our where abouts. I could tell by their gestures they ruled out the road once travelled and surmised we were hoofing it in the opposite direction. While some of the dudes started in on dismantling the abandoned auto, one guy remounted his Hogg and was about to take off in search of us when Scruffy; whose protective growling I had been trying desperately to keep muffled, wrestled free from my grasp to leap fervently after a suicidal bunny that had popped into sight from nowhere taking Scruffy’s focus off of being our guard dog and catching the attention of the Dudes. Well Scruffy, you didn’t earn your security badge tonight, I thought, for that matter, don’t expect any routine treats to be doled out latter, either.
Just about this time Cindy’s friend breezed up. Boy what a straggler, he sure couldn’t keep up with his pack. This party was just getting bigger by the moment and I wasn’t going to enjoy mingling. Okay, Friend just looked at the scene and kept on trucking at the suggestive hand motions of the Dudes. My gosh, he wasn’t a participant of this gang! He was obviously a lone wolf biker and I had misjudged him, (at least I’m consistent)
Three creeps caught Cindy and me before we got very far, hauled us back to the festivities none too gently, and centered us in a manmade circle.
“You know, if you got a job you could afford the rest of that jacket,” Cindy declared speaking to the leader whose leather jacket sleeves had been ripped off, presumably so he could display his horrid, suggestive body art.
“Cindy, don’t give unsolicited advice,” I warned in a hiss, this wasn’t a time to be cheeky, , though I admired her spunk.
More thunder, more lightening coming from the opposing direction. Friend had returned with back up! For every one of the Dudes there were four more additions to the gala. Friend’s comrades pulled up behind him in orderly fashion, all in faux black leather jackets, faux alligator boots, crisp jeans and sitting on shiny Beemers. All wearing helmets with face shields; face shields that captured the moon’s glow so perfectly I couldn’t see any faces through the illumination. All looking like pristine carbon copies (does anyone remember carbon paper?) of each other and all looking like they just came off a show room floor. {Maybe I should use the analogy of clones for this generation?}
No heavy convincing was required to turn the seven bullies into putty; just the presence of the reinforcements took away their chutzpah; it was perfectly acceptable to outnumber Cindy and me, but being outnumbered themselves was a whole different matter. They made a rapid exit leaving seven blackies (dark streaks) on the asphalt. Then the reinforcement, one by one, turned their wheels and rode noiselessly away on Dudes’ heels corralling them, herding them; rattling their nerves!
“Quick, let’s call the police!” I suggested digging in my pocket for my cell simultaneously to the sound of sirens approaching.
“I already did,” Friend explained. “That will be my dad.” Friend was a policeman’s son. That could be good news or bad news. He was either a rebellious offspring or just the opposite.
“Well it was lucky for us you ran into some friends, thanks for bringing them to help, please
tell them we appreciated it.” I asked.
Cindy and Friend stared at me. “What are you talking about, mom?” Cindy asked bewildered.
“Those guys…the other riders…” Cindy and Friend maintained a steady stare. I had the awful feeling I was in the twilight zone by myself. Come to think of it, twenty eight motorcycles leaving at once should have made some kind of sound but…I hadn’t heard a single engine, they must use high grade fuel.
Cindy filled in the awkwardness with a whispered explanation to Friend, “Mom gets like this when she overdoses on caffeine. Some people hallucinate on alcohol or drugs, mom zones out on coffee.” Then out loud to me she said, “Mom, I was trying to tell you earlier that this guy saw us at the Women of Faith conference today.”
“You were at the Women of Faith conference?” I asked, incredulously. He must really love the Lord to hang out with women high on God for the weekend, I thought. Or maybe he’d been a worker.
“It’s a great place to meet girls,” Friend explained. There you got it, from dislike, to like back to the starting board. This guy was using a religious retreat to meet chicks. “Yeah, if you want to meet a godly woman you have to go to where they gather.” Friend continued explaining. Great. My opinions flipped over again. I was getting very woozy, no more coffee after three in the afternoon! And then no more than two cups per day. Oh, I already was starting to go into withdrawal and yes, it hurt.
Friend’s cell phone went off.
“No. ….No….they did? ….No way…wow.” Friend looked extremely perplexed.
“That was my dad; he said those jerks turned themselves in without a fight and he needs you to come fill out a complaint.”
“What else did he say?” Some crucial detail was being withheld.
“He said….this is weird….he said they insisted he also arrest the gang that was following them but dad didn’t see anyone else. They all acted genuinely afraid, as if there really as a gang right there threatening them.” Friend scratched his head while Cindy gaped in awe at me. Well, isn’t that nice, I don’t have to suffer caffeine withdrawals after all, I just need to thank God I’m not seeing things by myself, however sharing hallucinations with drug addicted hoodlums isn’t comforting.
The gas station people arrived with an emergency gas supply, enough to get me back to the station. Before I turned the ignition key I remembered a small detail I’d forgotten with all the life threatening events we had just survived; we still didn’t have Scruffy in our midst.
Following the sounds of his frantic barking Cindy, Friend, and I came upon the agitated terrier leaping in the air under a tree, completely ignoring our summons. Bad, bad dog, I muttered, snatching him in mid leap and following his intent stare upwards. My gosh, the rabbit was up on a limb, ears pressed to its scalp, nose vigorously twitching, I had no idea rabbits could climb trees. What a night.
“Rabbits really can’t climb trees,” an angel walking invisibly beside me and well known to Scruffy, informed him as I toted him back to the car, “But you shouldn’t be trying to hurt them either, all animals belong to God and if you don’t need them for food leave them alone!” Scruffy whined at the scolding of his owner’s guardian angel that had arrived in response to her earlier prayers, and hung his head in short lived shame. Guardian’s twenty eight co-workers materialized, helmetless, revealing faces that glowed from being in the presence of God, and they all shot back up to the executive office on their Beemers (that disolved under them) leaving only white streaks in the sky for the two legged beings of flesh to see.
2 kings 6:16-17
Pslam 34:7
Psalms 53:5
