November 10, 2004 ~ First on the Scene
Wednesday.
not what you want to see when you come around the bend
Morgan hit the breaks and I was out of the car before he could shift to park, running toward the black truck on its side in the middle of the road. He yelled from behind, "Melissa, that's gasoline all over the road!"
"I know." It was gushing out of the bottom of the truck and running across the road and into the stream under the bridge. I jumped over a puddle of it and peered through the windshield, but could not see anything through the web of cracks radiating outward. Is that bit of white fabric someone's shirt?
I ran around the other side of the truck, noticing a shoe laying on the gravel. Shaking from adrenaline, I crouched behind the cab and looked through the unbroken back windows. I strained to tell if there was a person in there, starting to grow dizzy from the gasoline fumes. If something sparks, I'm screwed.
All that I could hear was bird song and the whish whish whish of the windshield wipers on this perfectly sunny day. They must have been accidentally turned on in the crash. "Is there anyone in there?" Morgan yelled, now standing in front of our car.
A mess of boxes and junk, probably from the passenger's side and floorboard. I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The white fabric materialized into the form of an inflated airbag. There wasn't a person under all of those boxes. But if they weren't in the truck, where were they?
The passenger's side door, now opening to the sky, was ajar. Perhaps they got out? But then I remembered the shoe on the road. Oh, I hope they weren't thrown out. I quickly backed up and turned to scan the woods, but just then I heard someone approaching.
Two men. "Hello!" One said.
"Is this your truck?" I asked, judging a guess by his demeanor.
"Well, I'm glad you're okay," I said, relieved, and moved away from the wreck.
"Yeah, I got out. I just went to ask his help," he said, pointing to the other man. "He's gonna get his tractor and help us clear my truck from the road."
"Do you need a phone to call anyone?" Morgan asked.
"Nah. All I've got is liability, so no sense in getting a report."
We helped clear all of the debris from the road--pieces of the bridge and of the truck. Then we watched as they hooked it to a tow cable, righted it, and pulled it up a side road. We were soon on our way, but the adrenaline didn't completely leave me for another hour.
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