Page 47 of A Rose of Steel
“I don’t mind.”
That made a cover of warmth enfold me and the words seemed all I needed to hear.
“Everything will be fine,” he said. “You’ll see.”
I had begun to wonder what it was going to take for me to be fine. I made the decision to come back to Roble because I didn’t have a place to stay. Now he was offering one to me. Why wasn’t I jumping at the opportunity? Wasn’t it what I wanted? Wasn’t it what I’d been hoping for all this time? Maybe Auntie and her marriage tropes had made me anxious about what a marriage to Alex would be. I closed my eyes, took in a breath and when I opened them, I put on a smile.
I had been so foolish for so long, wanting someone else to bring me the happiness I craved. He was right. Everything was going to be fine. I was going to be fine. And then suddenly I knew, only I could make sure of that.
There was athump, thump, thumpwhich made me bounce in my seat, and I knew exactly what it was. I had a flat tire.
“Of course,” I said and hit the palms of my hands on the steering wheel after pulling over to the side of the road and taking the car out of gear. “Of course.”
I was driving back from my dinner with Alex, feeling sad, and free, and frustrated, and relieved, and happy, and lovesick, and heartbroken, all at the same time.
I took in a breath.
So, instead of going straight home, I took a now-frequent detour and drove by the new ME facility. I loved that place—so shiny and new, it made me so happy that I’d drive by just to look at it, but tonight it was the reason for my current crisis. If I’d gone straight home, I wouldn’t have been on this country road that clutched in its black sea of asphalt something which could puncture the tread of my tire.
I grabbed my white-background, floral print pashmina out the backseat I’d brought to guard against the chill of the evening, got out of the car, wrapped it around me and circled the car. It was the back tire, driver’s side, flat as day old Pepsi. I didn’t know if getting air would get me home or if it required a tire change. Either way, it wasn’t something I could currently do myself.
Auntie had an auto service she used for her cars, but I didn’t know the number or even if she used the same service that I remembered. I pulled out my phone and called the roadside assistance I had with my cell provider. I’d given up my car long ago, but I always played it safe and kept the service as part of my mobile plan. I just didn’t like ever being stuck somewhere without help. They took my information quickly and efficiently and estimated a twenty-minute wait. I knew they’d probably be much longer.
The first question they asked was if I was in a safe place. I was on a dark, desolate country road, the nearest clearance about half a mile away. That clearing was the ME facility. I told them yes, I was safe and gave them the address to the office, letting them know that that was where they’d find me when the tow truck arrived. I was going to hike down the road and wait inside.
So glad I didn’t wear the five-inch heels.
I’d walked the Lakefront Trail on a regular basis the entire time I lived in Chicago, and after all I was raised a country girl. Walking the three thousand feet or so to the facility shouldn’t even work up a sweat.
I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face in the dark night. It was quiet and cool out, I stuck my phone down into my evening bag and put the gold chain strap over my body and pulled my shawl up over my shoulders. I paced my steps as I walked, keeping to the side, careful not to stumble on any loose pebbles.
I soon learned it wasn’t the loose pebbles that I needed to worry about. Along my mostly always-deserted road came a truck. First, the 4x4 approached at regular speed, but then seemed to slow as if it recognized me. I didn’t want to be bothered with anyone and didn’t mind the time I had to spend waiting for a tow truck. I decided if a window came down and I was asked if I needed help, I was going to wave it off and tell them I was okay. Help was on the way. But then it stopped. A good twenty-five feet from me as if it were watching me. Motor revving, breaking through the silence of the night, a flicker of the headlights and it went to high beam. I held up my hand to shield the glare, and turned my head away.
“What do you want?” I mumbled to myself, my heart starting to race. I hadn’t ever imagined that I’d become afraid of anything I’d encounter when I stepped out of my car. Now I knew that if something happened, no one might come to look for me down this road. It wasn’t the way back from Jasper where’d I told Auntie Zanne I was going, and there were no houses down it either way.
“Why are you just sitting there,” I muttered. My head was starting to ache with fear, my legs tingling, my hand trembling. I slowed my pace, now anxious about me moving nearer to it rather than the other way around.
The revving stopped, I could hear the truck being put into gear and then it took off. It came racing down the road my way. I stood still, bracing myself. I couldn’t determine which way it might go, so I didn’t know which way to run. I took in a deep breath and held it.
The truck stayed in its lane as itwhooshedpast me, blowing my hair and pashmina up and out. I turned and watched it as it passed. Black maybe. Dark-colored for sure. There was lettering on the back windshield. A long name. Maybe the word “University” was part of it. I couldn’t tell. Hurrying my eye to the back of the truck to see the license plate, I saw a decal of a fleur-de-lis. Blue. Maybe. Yellow. Definitely. The colors caught my eye and made me miss most of the numbers of the plate. I remembered a zero. I think a one.
“Shoot!”
I quickened my steps and, licking my lips, I tried to calm myself. I could see the facility. Big. Dark. Safe. I turned back to look down the black road where the truck had disappeared. I swallowed hard, turned face forward and broke into a trot. Picturing myself on the dark road in a horror flick, I thought perhaps my heart may explode it was beating so hard. Then I heard the roar of the truck again. Coming back my way.
I needed to hide.
I stumbled down the small embankment at the road’s side, taking the brightly colored pashmina off and balling it up. Everything else I had on was dark, it would meld into the night. I was hoping to get lost in all the blackness that surrounded me. I laid flat in the grass and tried not to even breathe. The truck came slowly back down the road, taking its time, seemingly searching for me. I closed my eyes and waited.
The minute or so seemed like an eternity. I wanted to try to get the license number, but was too afraid to lift up my head.
And then it left.
As soon as I knew it was gone, I got up and ran to the building. Out of breath and carrying my shoes, I shakily pushed in the code on the keypad and pulled the door open when I was showered in the glow from headlights.
I hurried in and shut the door knowing no one could get to me once inside. But as I pulled it closed, I saw that it was a car—a Cadillac, not the truck that had pulled in. I squinted my eyes. “Ball 1” was the license plate. It was one of Auntie’s cars.
I watched through the glass door as Rhett stepped out of the car door.
