The Feet of God
34 - HELL FROZE OVER
Ma’s pink DeVille was now long
gone. I guess I was gonna make my way on
the road eastward. Hours passed as I stood
there. The weather turned. I took a deep breath and exhaled through
cupped hands to keep them warm. I
confess, this was one of them times when ya come to realize how alone you
really are.
I turned my back to face the unknown path laying ahead. I saw a wall of purple mountains rising
around me, granite peaks all so remote and majestically crowned in snow. The sight took my breath away…that, and
frigid blasts of fuckin’ cold air down my neck.
I’d been in such a hurry to escape Gorda Fortuna amid the bullets, bomb blasts
and fiery explosions I’d totally forgot to pick up my jacket. Or pluck a spare bottle of whisky and an
extra pack of smokes while I had the chance.
Sometimes life gives you nothing but dog shit tacos. With only the clothes on my back I headed up
the eastbound ramp of I-80-something-or-other under a layer of heavy clouds
looking to let loose. I lingered by that
interstate on-ramp with just my flannel shirt, jeans and worn-out boots to
protect me from the elements, both thumbs outstretched, and an eager smile to
hitch a ride. In my mind I was ready for
whatever life was gonna throw my way, but I was unprepared for the hard-driving
rain.
Sheets of sleet and icy rain came pouring down.
The traffic on the interstate speeded by me in splashes of frigid
gray. I began flapping my arms and
rubbing my cheeks to keep warm, and signal for help, but no one answered my
distress call.
Not sure how long I jumped around there like a crackhead on short supply, but I
noticed how them purple mountains had vanished behind a curtain of black. I lost sight of the road ahead. Hell, I lost all feeling in both my
legs. I begun to hop up and down with my
hands cupped over my nose to keep the end from frostbite when the lights of a
vehicle mercifully pulled over to a slushy stop.
The passenger side window unrolled. “Get
in.”
A state trooper in a wide, flat-brimmed hat leaned across the front seat and
opened the door. Ordinarily this turn of
events would give me an elevated sense of anxiety, but I was more than happy to
plant my ass in the passenger seat and lock the door. I fastened the seatbelt and enjoyed the comforting
hot air massage me all over as my teeth chattered like a stupid wind-up toy. I jammed my hands under the dashboard heater
for a blast of hot air.
“Got a call to keep a lookout
for you,” the trooper said. “How long
you been out in this weather?” His tone
was more official than friendly as he pulled out onto the highway.
“Seems like eternity,” I answered.
The trooper grinned tight.
“Where am I?” I asked.
The trooper’s grin constricted, “On your way someplace else.”
I nodded my head in obedient compliance.
The trooper’s eyes shifted as he changed lanes.
“I’ll just take you up to the truck stop at the next junction, got
it? You go on in and get yourself a hot
cuppa coffee and maybe see if someone’ll give you a lift to the next
state. I’d advise it.”
“Thank you officer,” I was polite.
“You got any money on you?”
“Sure do.” I presented the wad of bills
Ma gave me for official inspection.
“Good thing. I can see you’re not
packing any governmental cheese or turkeys.
And folks in these parts don’t accept coupons or food stamps, either.”