Shoved to Them
It’s been 21 years since I last saw my college roommate. We talk on the phone at least three times a week, and text each other almost daily, but the last time I saw her I was 18. That’s a long time ago. Which is why, when she said she’d be in Houston for the weekend (4 1/2 hours away) instead of in Virginia… and did I want to come hang out all weekend, I jumped at the chance.
The original plan was that I would drive my husband’s car (a 1997 Lexus sc400 – that’s a little two door job – cute and sporty looking but old) from Dallas to Houston on Friday afternoon and leave on Monday to come back home. A whole weekend together! We were so excited that we started texting each other a daily countdown.
On Wednesday, my husband told me that I might want to consider renting a car because his needed new tires in the back. He had checked them over when he got gas and they were BALD. I shook my head and told him that if I were going to spend $100 renting a car for the weekend, I might as well put that same $100 toward new tires. They were under warranty anyway, so it was just as well that I get it done. Thursday flew past and I hadn’t gotten the chance to get the tires, which meant it was going to have to be done before I left.
Friday dawned gray, cold, and misting. It was an ugly day. I checked the weather forecast and saw that we were expecting freezing rain and sleet in Dallas starting in the mid-afternoon. I threw on some clean clothes and got to the tire store by 8:00. They had two of the correct size tires in stock (thank goodness!) and put them on in about 20 minutes. Then the tire man came inside wringing his hands. He asked where I was going and if I really had to drive that car. I confirmed that it was the only one I had and that I was going to Houston. “Not with those tires that are on the front, you’re not,” he told me. They were worn in spots so that the metal was showing. He could have the correct size there by 11:00, could I wait? I assured him that I could and went home to pack the car.
By 1:00, I was on the road and singing out loud. I was listening to all of our college favorites and feeling young again. Life was fine. What was the cost of new tires compared to lifelong friendship? Besides, with the raining misting weather I was glad to have new tires.
Two hours down the road, I was cruising along and still belting out the tunes. That’s when the battery light came on, I slowed down and called my husband. While it was ringing, the phone beeped that the battery was low. I plugged it in, but it wouldn’t charge. I decided to be brief and talk fast.
” My phone is dying,” I began, “The battery light just came on. I know the car is old, so is that a thing that it does or should I be concerned?”
“No,” he said. “That’s new. You should probably find somewhere to stop and check to make sure that the battery cables aren’t loose. That’s all I can think of. The battery is less than 6 months old, and the alternator is fairly new too. Check it out and call me back.”
I was in the middle-of-nowhere Texas. There are stretches of highway between here and there that don’t have exits for miles. That’s where I was.
“Okay, God.” I said aloud. “I have to get somewhere to stop. Please?”
Ten minutes later, I saw the signs for the Buffalo, Texas exit. Perfect. Small town Texas just up ahead. If nothing else, they’d have a place where I could plug in my phone before it died completely. Plus, small town Texas people are friendly. Chances were I could find some help.
When I got off the highway, I turned into the Shell station parking lot and found a parking space under a street light. It was only 3:45, but was getting dark thanks to the weather. It was still misting and cold, but I was grateful that it wasn’t yet raining. I turned off the car and popped the hood, clutched my coat around me and got out of the car. Holy goodness but it was cold and windy. I shoved my hand under the hood and silently cursed the Japanese car designers and their insanely thin hands. How on earth was a normal person supposed to not only get their hand in there, but release the hood? I tried a few more times and never found the release, I did managed to scrape the heck out of my knuckles though.
I flung the door open, no longer silently complaining, and ripped the owner’s manual out of the glove box. Where was that blasted hood release? There on page 83 was the answer – it was off to the left. I never would have found it. Back out in what was now full fledged rain, I finally opened the hood and saw that my husband was right – the battery connection was loose. I sighed and scanned the parking lot for a man. I knew that there were no tools in my car, and a guy in those parts was likely to have them. Lucky me, there was a guy in a white hat filling up his car. I walked determinedly to him and said “Hi. You look like a guy who has a wrench. Do you mind if I borrow it for a moment?”
He looked at me for a moment and then chuckled. He drawled out “Now, ma’am, what kind of guy would I be if I let you use that wrench yourself? Show me what needs fixin’ and I’ll do it for you.” (God bless Texas men and that mamas that raise them!) He grabbed the wrench from his tool box and followed me back to my car. He fiddled about a bit before shaking his head. “Ma’am,” he said. “You can’t fix this. The lead is busted and you’ll need a new one. now, I can patch it for you so you can get to a mechanic, but you need to find one right quick.” Before I could say a word, he pulled a penny from his pocket, bent it in half, and wedged it in between the terminal and the clamp that went around it. “Now, ma’am, what you do it drive straight out this road to the yellow building about three miles down. You tell Bill that Kevin sent you. He’s about the best mechanic I know when he’s sober.”
When he’s sober. I just let that thought hang in the air for a moment.
Then he continued, “It’s getting late now, and it’s Friday. I don’t guess he’ll be too busy. He’s open for another half hour yet, but he may have cut out early. If he did, you’ll find him in the RV behind the shop. You just bang on that door real hard, but don’t look in the windows. Sometimes he hangs out in his altogether, and a girl like you just doesn’t need to see that.” Fantastic.
I drove out of the parking lot and down that country road. I chanted to myself “Bill, Kevin sent me.” over and over again so that I wouldn’t forget. I had turned off everything electronic in order to spare the battery – everything included the heater- and I was freezing cold and shivering. I just wanted to be in Houston with my friend or home with my family. Someplace warm and dry – anywhere but Buffalo, Texas.
I wasn’t crying yet, but the tears were starting to threaten to spill down my cheeks. It was a quarter til 5:00 and my phone was now dead.
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