Page 8 of Needing His Touch
“Ishouldn’t have taken another stroll around the mall. I shouldn’t have driven into another town without checking the weather. Never again. I shouldn’t have done a lot today.” When I left the mall, it was because the stores were closing. There’s something about walking around, having no destination in mind, and letting your brain not talk about all of life’s little nuances. A necessity I didn’t know I so desperately needed. The sun shined in the distance, still high in the sky, not a cloud in sight. The same could be said for the rain. A beautiful winter day, and while yes, I was walking around indoors, I still enjoyed the weather Mother Nature gave us.
I almost stayed to watch a movie in the theatre but knew I’d be pushing it. Boy, was it tempting. I have no clue what’s playing or if it would have been any good, but since I spent enough money, I refrained. While my apartment has all the creature comforts of home. Sometimes it’d be nice to watch a movie outside of my house too. I kind of miss the idea of getting lost in something other than a book. Next time, I tell myself, I’ll splurge and get a massive tub of popcorn, extra butter, and a Coke, too. At least it won’t be like the last time I caught a movie I went on a Sunday afternoon, a completely different place and time. Mom and Dad were fighting so bad that I didn’t dare attempt sneaking in. I backed away from the apartment, paid for one ticket, and stayed for three movies. I was also early on in my teen years, still learning the way things worked in such a volatile household. It’s sad to think I believed the way they loved each other was normal. I soon learned differently once I found solace in a good book. They may be fiction, but they were still a whole lot better than what my parents showed me. My fictional characters showed me when people made mistakes, they righted the wrongs, they showed unconditional love, and they found the one person who meant everything to them. Maybe one day, I’ll have a love for myself. I can almost believe it, too, especially after the way Gabe McCoy lit up my whole body with one small glance.
“Get your head out of the clouds, Carsynn. Focus on the road,” I mutter, taking my hand off the steering wheel to turn the radio off. I had it turned low, but damn, was it driving me crazy. Silence is a necessity. All the talking coming through the radio station was not helping my current situation. The whole drive on the interstate was fine. My car didn’t shake, rattle, or roll, unlike a certain song that talks about the movements a person can make. Even as I drove in the slow lane and went the minimum speed limit. There were lights on each side, enough light from the setting sun. It didn’t matter that semi drivers as well as others went around me. I was completely okay with it. I would have done similar, you know, minus the rain coming down in sheets, my windshield wipers having the time of their life trying to keep up. I was doing fine, really, or at least I was until I turned off the interstate onto the two-lane highway into Plaine Hill.
The rain was gone, and in its place was ice. The road was freaking scary. Both sides of the highway are lined by woods. Plus, there are no streetlights. My headlights are the only light guiding my way. Maybe at the next town meeting, I can advocate for streetlights. Who am I kidding? I could never stand up in a room crowded with people, telling them what should be changed as the new person in town. Yeah, I think not. No, thank you. I’ll just make sure I’ll be home a lot earlier than I am today.
“Ugh, I hate these curves in the road.” I take my foot off the gas, slowing down and drifting around the corner. The trees give off an eerie feeling, only making the driving conditions that much worse. Plus, there’s literally no other car in sight and hasn’t during the past couple of miles.
“Ten more minutes. We can do this.” My knuckles are white, gripping the steering wheel as tightly as possible. I’m sure once the drive is over, my joints are going to ache. I’ll need a hot bath to decompress and make a vow to myself never again to do something as stupid again. I have a phone for a reason, and clearly, I was on some kind of cloud nine without a care in the world, when glancing at the weather app on my phone would have prepared me for this moment. I mean, a hotel would kill the budget without a doubt. I could have left earlier at least.
“Stupid, Carsynn, you were stupid, stupid, stupid.” I feel my tires start to slip. The ice is no match for the lack of tread on my wheels. Instead of shoes, I should have taken my car into McCoy’s to have them make sure it was ready for all the elements, rain, ice, or snow. You know, the conditions that come with a winter in New Hampshire. Obviously, they aren’t good enough. I could literally break down and cry. Hell, I probably will by the time I make it home. Nothing like big, fat tears streaming down your face while driving at an ungodly slow pace while you’re slipping and sliding all over the road. Let’s add one more element into the mix, why don’t we.
I was not thinking I’d need tires this soon. I should have known better. Nothing good ever happens to Carsynn Nichols.
Am I having a pity party while trying to keep my car from sliding into a ditch?
Yes.
Is it keeping my mind off the fact that I’m an idiot?
No.
My car and I can’t keep up. I’m creeping along the road, not using the gas, and I’m certainly not using the brake. If I could take my eyes off the road, I’d look down to see how slow I’m really going. That’s not going to happen, not with the way I can now hear my tires squealing along the iced-over road. I can’t keep up. My car can’t either. I’m pushing it and myself to the limits, and unfortunately, I’m going to have to give up. So, maybe my pity party was for a good reason after all.
“Pull over, Cars, you can call McCoy for a tow. So, it’ll set you back a few hundred dollars. You can’t live if you’re buried in the ditch.” I slowly turn my wheel, hoping above all hope I can get off the shoulder without teetering into the ditch. Ugh, of course, I’m going to have to use my brakes. They’re no match for ice, and the traction on my tread won’t help at all. I try to remember if I’m supposed to pump them or not and then realize it’s too late. My right foot is already attempting fate. We’ll just have to go with it. I could really use those thump-thumpers to help reduce my speed. Sadly, Plaine Hill doesn’t have them, and this is what I’m working with.
A shiver races its way down my spine. I can feel the ice beneath my tires. Don’t ask me how, I just can. Panick is added into the mix, the tightening of my chest. The way my vision is starting to tunnel. I’m not only going to die in a car accident, I’m going to lose consciousness for lack of breathing. The weather in New Hampshire is nothing like in Virginia. Sure, we had the same elements, but at least I could get home in a reasonable time without all of this commotion.
Tell me again why I didn’t head further south. Oh right, because your parents always said they’d eventually move somewhere where the climate is warm. So, what do I do? I head north to the freaking Antarctic. Smart move, Carsynn, smart move.
“Goddamn it!” One minute I’m slowing down, the next I’m spinning out of control. My car doing a complete one-eighty a few freaking times, my arms are hurting trying to control the steering wheel. It’s no use. I’ve lost any semblance of power I thought I had. My four tires were once firmly on the ground, like they should be, except I can feel my car teetering and tottering back and forth, trying to gain its own momentum.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I chant over and over again. I let go of the steering wheel. The ice is having its way with my car. There’s no use holding on. All I can do now is leave it in the hands of a higher being. I’m like a see-saw, rocking back and forth along with some slipping and sliding. I cover my face, burrowing into my forearms and thanking everything in me for the invention of seatbelts. Maybe it will save my life that is currently flashing before my eyes.
My thoughts go haywire. I haven’t really lived, and here I am, going through the last thing I expected. I’m going to die a virgin. Yep, that’s my brain going in a million different directions. Not how to control the situation, even though I know I can’t. I’d never survive a zombie apocalypse. I’d collapse instead of being a problem solver. I’d have really liked to think Gabe McCoy could help me offload that pesky little label of virgin at the age of twenty-five.
I’m also completely bummed I’ve yet to finish my book about the duke and his virgin bride. Never mind I’ve yet to wear my sneakers. You know, the very reason I’m out in this stupid, brutal weather.
My car flips over. A loud screech leaves my lungs. One flip after the other, the loud metal crunching and the shattering of glass create their own symphony, one I’d rather never attend again. The airbag deploys, exploding toward my face as well as the left side of my body. The sound is so loud I’d imagine it’s a lot like what a gunshot would sound like at close range. It’s a noise that will stick with you for all of time. It’s a feeling you’ll remember, too. And through all of this, my car doesn’t stop, one tumble after the other until it stops, landing on the roof. My body hangs upside down, and the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins slowly fades. The bracing of my body was of no use except for maybe my face not meeting its maker called the airbag.
“Damn,” I groan, trying to push the fabric out of my face. The smoke from it smells and causes me to cough. My eyes grow heavy, the blaring of my horn doing nothing to stop the foggy haze taking over my brain. I reach my hand out, trying to reach for my phone only to realize it’s probably somewhere else than the cup holder I usually place it in. I’m screwed. There’s no other way around it. I’m not going to be able to save myself this time around. There’s no rescuing the damsel in distress. It’s enough to make my body shiver and shake. Stupid traitorous tears make their presence known, and I’d laugh if it didn’t hurt. Instead, I close my eyes. I’m bone tired, chilled to the core. Sleep is the only thing I want to do.
“Come on, Carsynn, finish your woe-is-me bullshit and get yourself out of this mess,” I say to the cold air swirling around me. I only hope I don’t freeze to death before getting out of this car or, you know, lose fingers due to frostbite while walking down the road until someone finds me or I find a house with not so crazy people inside.
10
GABE
“Damn it, Carsynn, where are you?” My eyes are peeled, looking down every back alley I can think of. I drove near the diner; she wasn’t there. I drove by the grocery store; it was completely desolate. The library was closed, and still my eyes haven’t found her car, and I’m beginning to think I’m running out of luck. Gramps has called me every ten minutes, like clockwork. It’s about that time again, and I’ve had to resort plugging my phone in to charge because at the rate we’re going, it’ll be dead by the time I finally do find my fairy of a woman.
The first time we spoke, he said he was waiting on a call from Sheriff Sanders. I don’t know what he’s doing or what’s taking so long for him to call back. There isn’t a lot of crime happening tonight. For the most part, people are off the roads after the emergency weather alert was broadcasted through phones. I glance at the clock, noting it’s been nearly an hour since I spoke to Gramps at the house and realized no one had heard from Carsynn.
“Hey, Gramps.” I hit the button on my steering wheel, my head whipping back and forth to look for her faded red car. I guess as far as good news goes, her car should be relatively easy to find.
“I’m getting in my car and am about to whoop Sheriff Sanders. I’ve known that boy since he was in diapers. He finally called me back and said he hadn’t seen Carsynn and to tell you to get off the roads. A fat lot of good he’s doing for the town of Plaine Hill. He’s sitting on his ass drinking a cup of hot chocolate while that poor girl is nowhere to be found.” My blood boils over. Friend or not, Sanders is going to get his teeth kicked in.
“The hell did you say?” I’m pissed as fuck. The next time he needs his patrol car serviced or repaired, he better check his brake lines because I’m liable to cut the fuckers.