“Oh my gawd, that’s hilarious,” my sister managed to say through gulps of air.
I heard a roar of laughter on the other end of the phone. I just told my sisters and mom about a recent episode that took place during one of my morning walks. What can I say; things just tend to happen to me: good, bad or indifferent, the point is that I can’t make this stuff up.
It was a usual sleepy morning in my community. You’ve got to understand this, nothing ever happens where I live. Ever. So on my routine morning walk; I was startled senseless when I heard police sirens ripping the comfort of silence that usually kept me company.
I looked over my shoulder. Barreling through my neighborhood was an old gray Ford pick-up truck. A short distance behind it, a police car with sirens at full blast.
I was stunned.
My immediate thought was, “Where the hell is he going? — that road is a dead end!”
My second thought was, “I better get the hell out of here!”
Well lo and behold, the driver must have figured it out. No sooner than I turned around to go home, he too turned around, uncontrollably, but this time he was headed towards me, with the police car in tow.
I had to literally dive into the woods to prevent getting squashed. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t one of those cool Angelina Jolie movie dives that would win an Oscar. It was a holy $%#@ move that would win respect.
I was terrified. The only thought in my mind was GET HOME NOW.
About ten seconds later, I heard a loud CRASH. Apparently, this *person* I’ll refrain from what I really called him, crashed the truck. Oh and get this, he started to run.
Now I’m nauseous.
You’d be surprise what the human mind does in an actual emergency. Here’s what I was thinking:
“Okay if he comes my way, I’ll play dead. Maybe if I just lie still on the ground…
No fool that’s what you do when a bear attacks!
Okay-okay I’ll pretend I’m blind.
And you think he really gonna believe that you’re blind? Where’s your walking stick?! Where are your shades?!”
I thought I was a goner. I actually think I was talking to myself because I heard this incoherent sound but couldn’t make it out, nor did I know where it was coming from. Although my mind was pre-occupied with non-sense my feet had a mind of its own, I was actually running up the hill towards my house.
I did what all good Southern women do when faced with harsh reality.
I started repenting.
“Oh Lord Jesus, please watch over my children and husband. Bless them Jesus. Oh God.
Forgive me of my sins. I’m not ready to die. I’m too young, Lord. I’m too young to die.”
By the time I made it up the hill, more police cars were present. I think a total of 10. One lady cop stopped me and asked if I saw which way he ran. I think I literally said, “meep-meep” and motioned toward the ruckus.
I kept running and repenting.
“…and God bless the lady cop that stopped me to ask a question. Lord Jesus!”
I made it home.
Completely out of breath and half conscious, I called for Hubs.
“What’s wrong Babe?” he was calm. Too calm.
“I could have died. I could have diiiieeeed,” I yelled and burst into tears.
Funny now that it’s over — really funny.