Solitudes

It was one of those days, a day where he couldn't forget the unforgivable. He was hungry and there was nothing edible in the house, and not a drop of beer. So it was either out to the store with it's bright light and too many choices or to a watering hole. It was best to find one where he didn't know anyone and he didn't need to engage in conversation and it's kitchen was open this late. It seemed as if the snow had finally stopped so he fired up his truck and drove off into the night.

The bartender announced to her three remaining customers that she was closing early and pointed to the tv overhead. Winds had shifted and a blizzard was forecasted. Heads turned to the grimy windows to see a white out. She particularly glared at O'Neill who had spent most of his time nursing one beer while munching on nachos she had nuked for him. He did leave a sizable tip.

The two barflies, snug in parkas, walked home. The bartender shut the lights, locked the door and climbed the stairs to the small apartment upstairs. Jack walked, or rather limped out to the parking lot. Getting off his barstool he banged his knee, his trick knee and that combined with the cold damp weather, it throbbed like a son of a bitch. Try as he might his truck would not turn over and, of course, it was the only vehicle left in the lot . It wasn't that far he thought I'll walk. He got a watch cap, scarf and gloves out of the truck, locked the heap and started walking along the mountains of snow plowed to the edges of the road.

It didn't seem possible but the snow was coming down harder and the temperature was definitely below freezing when a car going way too fast slid and sideswiped Jack and kept going. He lay in a heap with a concussion and a broken leg.

Samantha Carter was on her way home. When she started out, with a thermos of hot tea and a muffin, the roads were freshly plowed and the weather report was good. But that certainly wasn't the conditions she found herself in now. A half hour from her destination the muffin was reduced to crumbs and the tea barely warm. The wet pavement was beginning to ice and the wiper blades on her vintage Volvo could not keep up with pelting snow. She was distracted for a minute by the blizzard of snow hitting her windscreen that reminded her of the rush of stars while flying through a wormhole.

The high beams of oncoming cars blinded her to what little visibility she had. What she did see was the erratic driver ahead of her sideswipe a man walking along the side of the road.

She had to stop. Up ahead was a small parking lot of a bar and grill, closed like everything else. She pulled in and left it there at the entrance. With the rate of the snowfall she feared she'd never get back out on the road. Then she went to grab her phone but it wasn't in her small backpack she used for a purse. She had left it charging in her office. She wondered how badly the man was hurt and so hurried to him. His face was bruised and his right leg lay at an unnatural angle. There was no way she could get this stranger into her car to get him help.

She went back to the lot and rummaged through the trunk of her car and found a musty blanket and a kit her dad had given her in case her quirky, not quirky - classic, car broke down in the mountainous countryside. A small tarp in the kit would protect him from the wet and hopefully the blanket would provide some warmth. Gently she attempted to straighten his leg, this brought him to consciousness. He groaned in pain and begged her to stop.

Sam considered leaving him where he lay or moving him to a safer location. If they stayed here and one of those big plows came along they wouldn't be found until the spring thaw. They would emerge from the ice like some archeological treasure. Wondering if she should move him, she saw flecks of blood on his lips. Did he have internal injuries?

"I'm sorry." and she was. "There's not much traffic now but we're too close to the road. If I could get this tarp under you I could get you a few feet to that parking lot."

"Help me up." He said

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Help me up." He pleaded.

Afraid he'd try to get up on his own she dug her shoulder under his arm and he put all his weight on his good leg. He hopped a few feet over to her car and started to sink down to the ground. Sam threw the tarp down and eased him down and tucked the blanket around him. This brought her close to him. He thanked her for her kindness and his eyes drifted closed. She had wondered if she should be this close to a perfect stranger who was out walking along the road side in a storm. He didn't reek of whiskey and didn't look homeless. Might as well ask him, that is if he were awake.

Sam noticed there was a pay phone against the wall of the bar so she rifled her pockets and car for loose change. She fed it coins but no dial tone. Feeling a bit frustrated she gave it a good whack, still no luck. Then she noticed the handset wasn't even attached. Sam mumbled a few curses and saw the man was struggling to get comfortable if that was remotely possible.

Sam got her thermos and backpack out of the car. She put the pack behind his head and shoulders and offered him warm tea.

"What were you doing out here?" Sam asked.

"Truck wouldn't start, on my way home."

"Me too, not the truck part." She grinned.

"Thank you for saving my life. I'm Jack, by the way."

"I'm Sam. I tried to get help but I don't have my phone and that thing doesn't work."

"My phone. It's … ah."

He groaned while trying to shift around to get his phone.

"Where?"

"Back pocket."

Sam was a bit uncomfortable digging around in his pants pockets but found his phone, warm, wet and the glass screen smashed.

His voice wasn't as strong as it had been earlier and Sam was afraid he didn't have much time. He said "It should still work, call 911."

And she did.

"We are receiving a high volume of calls tonight. Please stay on the line and we will get to you momentarily." There had been a massive accident on the highway just out of town. Most of the emergency vehicles and plows were there.

Sam waited on hold for an eternity, then the phone went dead.

"No, no, no. Damn it."

Sam looked up and down the block and considered walking out for help. The entire area was commercial and not a light for miles in all directions. Nothing but ice and snow.

He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Sam kept talking to him, trying to keep him with her. She couldn't let him die. She couldn't bear it.

Sam's life was a mess right now. She had a new job which at times she was afraid was over her head and at other times she was diminished because she was a woman - one of the few employed there.

Sam had recently broken her engagement to a charming fellow who turned out to be a totally controlling a-hole.

When her mother had died she had tried to hold the family together - satisfying neither her father nor her brother, who were at odds. On top of that her father was recently diagnosed with cancer.

She couldn't leave him to die here alone in the freezing dark of night. Sam felt so alone, the man, Jack was sleeping or unconscious. Traffic was non-existent and the relentless snow swirled about her . She was about to sit on the tarp and had an idea. Sam put the flashing hazard light on her car. Maybe someone would see her signal.

Exhausted she sat close to him, then lay down, sharing the blanket and body heat.

Daniel and his partner Murray had been up all day and into the night in their monster snow plow. The highway and the accident had been cleared, the snow had stopped and Daniel's cell phone was vibrating.

The 911 operator had a dropped call and asked the men if they could drive by on their way back to the station. The operator had a location but no specifics.

Sam woke to the rumble of the big truck. Two men jumped from the cab of the big plow.

"He's hurt." was all she said and tried not to cry in relief.