The freezing rain had come down, one night after a previous snow fall that day. It left me with a sense of vacant loneliness. On the porch steps of my log cabin, I stared out across the fields hoping to see some sense of light or life, in this, a frightfully cold February night. Then I looked up to see the sky open up and the clouds of freezing rain pass over across the woods. The immediacy of the change was yet another example of nature in its awe-inspiring yet subtle form. It seemed so random but still somehow purposeful. As I watched, the sky revealed her white fabric of stars against the black velvet of the night. The Milky Way to me seemed so overwhelmingly vast. I wondered just how temporary am I in this universe? Winter had come full throttle as it usually did up here on the southern beaches of Lake Superior.
“Tim, come inside. I have soup ready and I thought we could watch Miss Marple. Do you want cheese on your soup?”
Mom, already knew that, yes, I would want cheese on anything. I had been up at the cabins with my mom for the weekend and already by Saturday night I was getting restless. It dawned on me that I must have cabin fever.
“Mom, I think I’m going to go into town for a drink.”
“Oh, Tim. It’s almost ten o’clock. It’s too late to do anything now. And the roads are terrible. What if you drive off the road? You’d be stuck in…”
Her reasons were sound, but I also knew my mom also had a tendency to be an alarmist. She usually chose the contrary route for me simply to have a sense of being needed. It was a complex loving mother son relationship yet not unlike any other one. Sometimes I gave in to her, most times I did not.
“I’ll be fine Mom. I just need some air.”
“Well, dress warm and please don’t speed.”
She was right. I had a very good track record of speeding tickets with the local authorities. I sped off leaving my mom alone for a few hours in this the middle of back country. Looking at my temperature gauge, I see that it is minus fifteen. A perfect night for a warm ride. Golden lit windows and black billowing smoke were behind me as I left. Soon I realized just how random I felt in this big country of north WI. I needed to feel some sense of belonging or any kind of interaction. At least there was bar in town that I could get a drink at, maybe meet some people and well who know what might happen on Saturday night. All this boondocks country can do major damage on your psyche when you are already questioning who you are and what your place is in the world.
Down High way Two I drove into the black void of the night. Only my headlights could evaporate the night, shedding its light twenty feet or so in front of me. I turned at the gas station, which was closed, as was the rest of town, and it felt so desolate and sad to me. Like a town barely trying to hold on to the concept of being called a town. I imagine a courtroom with a jury trying to depose Iron River as no longer being able to call itself a town. It would have to be called the “townette” of Iron River. Or maybe Iron Pyrite River for all the fools in this town.
I chuckle as I sped up to get to Duluth faster, surely there won’t be any police out this time of night in this cold, I thought. And after a few minutes, I have the car in its cozy warm little den on wheels. When it’s like this I can drive for hours. Heated seats are working, the heater is blowing out down by my feet fast and furious. And I’m swimming in my own relaxed state of warmth. There may be no moon tonight but I have grown accustom to driving this road I have driven so many times over the years. But it is always when things mundane occur that you should come to terms with your own mortality. In the quiet and alone, is when you can remove yourself from the judgment of others, idealized vanity of yourself and recognize who you actually are and who you want to be with the time you have left. Yes, assuredly, there is no better time to do this than when you are driving alone in the night.
Driving down the incessantly black winding road that led to eternity, I see something approaching. It is a long figure dressed in a black oil slick coat. He is carrying a box that is close to half his size. As I passed, I thought I saw a dark thin man carrying a dollhouse. I thought, this is something to tell Mom when I get home. I began fighting with myself deciding whether or not I should report this because it was so cold. Instead I turn around and take my chances at being a Good Samaritan. As I passed again I still cannot get a good visual on the dark and mysterious figure. I turn around once more and drive up to where I thought he would be. But in the blackest of nights, it is hard to find. As I slowly come to a halt, I honk and slowly I see the figure running towards the lights of a possible ride. I open the door and in jumps this little blonde girl straight from Heidi. Her hair is in braids and she cannot be any older than eight. Clearly, I am dumbfounded, but also overcome with fear for her safety. I ask her where she lives, and she tell me she has run away. I was correct that she was carrying a dollhouse. She had packed all her clothes in it and left.
“My dollhouse was getting so heavy. I just couldn’t carry it anymore.”
At this shocking statement of innocence, I moved too abruptly towards the heaters to make sure they were blowing on her hands which she had failed to cover. No gloves no mittens. She coward under fear of what I might do.
“What’s your name?” “My name is Tim. I swear I am not going to hurt you, I just want to get you home as fast as possible.”
She wouldn’t tell me her name which I decided was probably for the best. The sleeting rain came down again and I tried to asked where she lived, There in the car, was a frozen scared little girl and there in the car was a scared man, trying hard to be a hero to her but not really knowing how.
Eventually after twenty more miles down the line she told me to turn onto After Hours RD. Another ten or so miles and I knew where she lived. There were lights flashing from three police cars, an ambulance and a news media van. I was either going to be part of the problem or the solution. As soon as I stopped the car, this little hitchhiker tore out of the car up the front steps and into the arms of her mother. I got out and walked up hoping that nothing else had happened that I wasn’t aware of. Anders, the father saw me climbing the steps as I opened the door. The Sherriff was right there on my left and Anders came over almost running from the small living room, he tackled me and thanked me so much for finding his daughter. Then his wife came and hugged me. Both of them looked visibly shaken and pretty much ready to collapse. It will probably be the only time I would ever actually be able to read volumes in a man’s eyes. The way he looked at me I will never forget. The Sherriff took me outside and told me it was a simple matter of a runaway girl who really picked the wrong time to do it with the weather as bad as it was. He wondered really how much longer she would have been able to survive. He took some details of what happened and then told me I could leave. He also thanked me for being in the right place at the right time. He shook my hand and I gave him my business card in case he had any more questions from me.
I pulled into the driveway of my log cabin and this time when I got out and looked up to that beautiful random lit sky, it all came full circle. If I never become a success in my life or do anything more with it, I recognized it was my place, my moment, in this whole universe of time and space to cross paths with that little girl.
“Tim, come inside. I have soup ready and I thought we could watch Miss Marple. Do you want cheese on your soup?”
Mom, already knew that, yes, I would want cheese on anything. I had been up at the cabins with my mom for the weekend and already by Saturday night I was getting restless. It dawned on me that I must have cabin fever.
“Mom, I think I’m going to go into town for a drink.”
“Oh, Tim. It’s almost ten o’clock. It’s too late to do anything now. And the roads are terrible. What if you drive off the road? You’d be stuck in…”
Her reasons were sound, but I also knew my mom also had a tendency to be an alarmist. She usually chose the contrary route for me simply to have a sense of being needed. It was a complex loving mother son relationship yet not unlike any other one. Sometimes I gave in to her, most times I did not.
“I’ll be fine Mom. I just need some air.”
“Well, dress warm and please don’t speed.”
She was right. I had a very good track record of speeding tickets with the local authorities. I sped off leaving my mom alone for a few hours in this the middle of back country. Looking at my temperature gauge, I see that it is minus fifteen. A perfect night for a warm ride. Golden lit windows and black billowing smoke were behind me as I left. Soon I realized just how random I felt in this big country of north WI. I needed to feel some sense of belonging or any kind of interaction. At least there was bar in town that I could get a drink at, maybe meet some people and well who know what might happen on Saturday night. All this boondocks country can do major damage on your psyche when you are already questioning who you are and what your place is in the world.
Down High way Two I drove into the black void of the night. Only my headlights could evaporate the night, shedding its light twenty feet or so in front of me. I turned at the gas station, which was closed, as was the rest of town, and it felt so desolate and sad to me. Like a town barely trying to hold on to the concept of being called a town. I imagine a courtroom with a jury trying to depose Iron River as no longer being able to call itself a town. It would have to be called the “townette” of Iron River. Or maybe Iron Pyrite River for all the fools in this town.
I chuckle as I sped up to get to Duluth faster, surely there won’t be any police out this time of night in this cold, I thought. And after a few minutes, I have the car in its cozy warm little den on wheels. When it’s like this I can drive for hours. Heated seats are working, the heater is blowing out down by my feet fast and furious. And I’m swimming in my own relaxed state of warmth. There may be no moon tonight but I have grown accustom to driving this road I have driven so many times over the years. But it is always when things mundane occur that you should come to terms with your own mortality. In the quiet and alone, is when you can remove yourself from the judgment of others, idealized vanity of yourself and recognize who you actually are and who you want to be with the time you have left. Yes, assuredly, there is no better time to do this than when you are driving alone in the night.
Driving down the incessantly black winding road that led to eternity, I see something approaching. It is a long figure dressed in a black oil slick coat. He is carrying a box that is close to half his size. As I passed, I thought I saw a dark thin man carrying a dollhouse. I thought, this is something to tell Mom when I get home. I began fighting with myself deciding whether or not I should report this because it was so cold. Instead I turn around and take my chances at being a Good Samaritan. As I passed again I still cannot get a good visual on the dark and mysterious figure. I turn around once more and drive up to where I thought he would be. But in the blackest of nights, it is hard to find. As I slowly come to a halt, I honk and slowly I see the figure running towards the lights of a possible ride. I open the door and in jumps this little blonde girl straight from Heidi. Her hair is in braids and she cannot be any older than eight. Clearly, I am dumbfounded, but also overcome with fear for her safety. I ask her where she lives, and she tell me she has run away. I was correct that she was carrying a dollhouse. She had packed all her clothes in it and left.
“My dollhouse was getting so heavy. I just couldn’t carry it anymore.”
At this shocking statement of innocence, I moved too abruptly towards the heaters to make sure they were blowing on her hands which she had failed to cover. No gloves no mittens. She coward under fear of what I might do.
“What’s your name?” “My name is Tim. I swear I am not going to hurt you, I just want to get you home as fast as possible.”
She wouldn’t tell me her name which I decided was probably for the best. The sleeting rain came down again and I tried to asked where she lived, There in the car, was a frozen scared little girl and there in the car was a scared man, trying hard to be a hero to her but not really knowing how.
Eventually after twenty more miles down the line she told me to turn onto After Hours RD. Another ten or so miles and I knew where she lived. There were lights flashing from three police cars, an ambulance and a news media van. I was either going to be part of the problem or the solution. As soon as I stopped the car, this little hitchhiker tore out of the car up the front steps and into the arms of her mother. I got out and walked up hoping that nothing else had happened that I wasn’t aware of. Anders, the father saw me climbing the steps as I opened the door. The Sherriff was right there on my left and Anders came over almost running from the small living room, he tackled me and thanked me so much for finding his daughter. Then his wife came and hugged me. Both of them looked visibly shaken and pretty much ready to collapse. It will probably be the only time I would ever actually be able to read volumes in a man’s eyes. The way he looked at me I will never forget. The Sherriff took me outside and told me it was a simple matter of a runaway girl who really picked the wrong time to do it with the weather as bad as it was. He wondered really how much longer she would have been able to survive. He took some details of what happened and then told me I could leave. He also thanked me for being in the right place at the right time. He shook my hand and I gave him my business card in case he had any more questions from me.
I pulled into the driveway of my log cabin and this time when I got out and looked up to that beautiful random lit sky, it all came full circle. If I never become a success in my life or do anything more with it, I recognized it was my place, my moment, in this whole universe of time and space to cross paths with that little girl.
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