by Carian Cole
“Then I guess you’ll have to hang out until they are working or until they plow the roads enough for me to drive you to town.”
I let out a big aggravated sigh. “This day sucks.”
He nods his head in agreement. “A wicked lot.”
The snow is coming down so hard and fast, we can barely see out the windshield. I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen such a bad snowstorm. I’m kind of glad in a twisted way my car got stuck because I can’t even imagine trying to drive myself in this snow right now.
We drive slowly in awkward silence, and suddenly, a deer jumps out from the woods on the side of the road right in front of the truck. I scream as Sasquatch swerves and the truck starts to slide and spin, gaining speed. He throws one arm across my chest to hold me against the seat as he tries to regain control of the truck, but it’s not working. I scream again as the truck flies off the road and into the woods, crashing downhill and plowing down small trees until it finally comes to a halt wedged amongst a bunch of larger trees on the side of a hill.
“Fuck!” He slams both his hands against the steering wheel. “I can’t fucking believe this shit!” He turns to me. “And why the fuck wasn’t your seatbelt on?”
I move away from him and smash myself against the door. “I’m sorry.” My voice sounds small and weak. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like I am going to pass out.
He rests his head against the steering wheel and takes several deep breaths. “I’m sorry for yelling at ya.” He finally says, his voice level and calm, but I can see it’s a struggle for him. “Are you okay?” He’s looking at me through his sunglasses, and I can see my reflection in them.
I nod, afraid to talk. I can’t stand to hear the fear in my own voice. He reaches into the back seat and pets his dog. “You okay, Niko?” The dog whimpers and licks his hand. “He’s good,” he says, caressing the dog’s head.
He tries to restart the truck, but it’s completely dead. I can’t believe this, honestly, I just can’t.
“Wh-what are we going to do?” I ask him.
“Well, we’re out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we’re stuck here.”
Fear rises up in me like a tidal wave. “What? What do you mean? We have to get out of here. We could freeze or starve, you said so yourself and—”
“Shh!” he yells making me jump. “Just calm the fuck down, okay? Obviously, both of the cars are fucked. We are still about a mile, maybe more, from my place, and that’s way too far to walk in this storm, especially with you wearing those fuck-me pumps.”
“Can you give it a rest about my shoes, please?”
“Whatever. The storm will probably stop tonight or sometime tomorrow, so we’re gonna have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we’ll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we’re in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to my cabin, so I think I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then.”
Keep us going? What the hell does that mean?
“...I have a big blanket in the back seat so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It’s really heavy and thick.”
I start to shake. I don’t know if it’s because I’m cold or scared out of my mind or maybe both. I want to get out of this truck and away from this guy and his dog right now. I beg myself not to panic, even though I know it’s inevitable. I’ve had panic attacks since I was a little girl, brought on by all sorts of things. I’m certain being stuck in a truck in the middle of the woods is definitely a perfect recipe to bring one on.
He reaches across the seat and touches my leg. “Hey, we’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry.” I cringe away from his touch and cross my arms in front of me, hugging myself.
I nod, but I refuse to talk, and he continues. “Okay, so I think we should both sit in the back seat, there’s a lot of room back there and we can put the blanket over us, I think it will help keep us warmer.”
“What about the dog?” No way in hell am I going to sit close to that animal. I wish my cat were with me. Halo is warm and sweet and would cuddle up on my lap and purr me into a comforting lull.
“...have to sit up front. He’s got a ton of fur and he’s made for the cold so he’ll be fine.”
The last thing I want to do is sit in the backseat under a blanket with this long-haired, guy-linered, sunglassed, face-pierced, cowboy hat wearing freak. What strange hell have I fallen into?
“Okay, so you climb in back and then I’ll call Niko up here, and then I’ll move back with you, all right? I know he freaks you out, but he’s not gonna hurt ya.”
I swear under my breath and climb over the seat and into the back. I arrange myself as far into a corner as I can while he maneuvers the dog into the front and then climbs into the back himself. He holds up a huge thick fleece blanket, shakes it out, and then lays it over our laps.
“It’s got some dog hair on it but at least it’s warm and clean.”
I give him a weak smile. “This will work.”
The back seat of the extended cab is pretty big, thankfully. I haven’t been in a pick-up truck in years and I don’t remember them having these huge back seats. It must be something the newer models have.
“I’ve never been in the back of a pick-up truck before, it’s nice. Roomy.” I say because I have no idea what else to say.
He smiles his crooked smile and laughs. “Um, thanks?”
“I’m just trying to make conversation. This is really awkward.”
“Yeah, it fuckin’ is in a bad way, but looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while so we’re gonna have to be friends for a few days. Maybe we should start with names... What’s yours?”
“Evelyn... and you?”
“Storm”
“Storm?” I repeat. “Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah... When my mom showed my dad the ultrasound photo, he said it looked like a bunch of dark storm clouds to him, so they named me Storm.”
“It must suck to have a name you have to explain the meaning of every time you meet someone.”
“No... Not at all. I like my name. At least it’s not fucking boring like Joe or Michael.”
I think of Michael and wonder what he’s doing. If I don’t call him, he’s going to start to worry about me. Maybe he’ll come looking for me and save me from this fresh hell.
Storm leans forward and starts to take off his jacket. “This got really wet. I think it’s best if I just take it off so I don’t sit here like a sponge, huh?” He folds it up and puts it on the front seat, and then he removes his hat and pushes his sunglasses up on top of his head.
My eyes are mesmerized by him and they betray the rest of me, which is trying to get as far away from him as possible. His hair is dark brown and long, a few inches past his shoulders. On the right side, two thin sections are dyed—one purple, one white. He’s wearing a black cable knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up, and I can see tattoos covering both of his arms, from his wrists up to his shoulders. I can see the artwork extending beyond the collar of his sweater, up toward his neck. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like him before, and I’m fascinated just looking at him like an exotic zoo animal. His eyes meet mine and I quickly look away.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“You were staring at me. Do you want to say something?”
“No... I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just never seen anyone who looks like you up close before.”
He raises his brows at me and smirks. “Looks like me? Is that an insult or a compliment?”
I shake my head and squirm a bit. “Definitely not an insult.” Don’t insult the psycho.
“Lemme guess... you’re used to the jock type with short hair and their fucking preppy pants and loafers?”
I nod. “Yeah, I suppose so... I’m not used to men with eyeliner and colored stripes in their hair.”
He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. “I like being different. I d
on’t feel the need to fuckin’ blend.”
I won’t admit it to him, but I admire it. Michael is a blender. I can barely tell him and his friends apart anymore, dressing the same, driving the same kind of car, short hair with a little spiky mess in the front. I suppose I’m the same, dressing like all the other women in the office, but once I’m home and alone, I can’t wait to throw on an old t-shirt, put on yoga pants, and wear pink converse sneakers.
“So, Evelyn... what kind of meeting were you heading up to?”
“It was for work.”
“I gathered that... What do you do?”
“I’m a marketing exec at a small advertising firm. I was supposed to be going to a seminar on direct mail campaigns and online marketing strategies.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“Well, as you said, I’m obviously going to miss it now. My boss is going to be pissed. It cost quite a bit of money to register and pay for the room and everything.”
“What the fuck, Ev? You’re stuck in a ditch in a blizzard. I think he’ll understand.”
I shake my head. I can already hear Jim screaming about wasting money and my lack of responsibility. He only cares about money and profit.
“My boss is not exactly an understanding person.”
“Fuck him then. You don’t need that shit.”
“Yeah, but I do need a job. And do you always talk like that?”
“If he gives you any shit, let me know, and I’ll cover the costs he lost from your ditch-dive. And yes, I fuckin’ do talk like this.”
“What? Are you crazy? You can’t give me money.”
“Yeah, I’m probably a little crazy. But it’s no fucking big deal to me. I don’t want some douche stressing you out over money. Life’s too short for that.”
I stare at him for a moment, realizing he’s very serious. “Why do you care?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I dunno. Why not? I’m not a greedy person.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but thank you.”
He yawns. “No problem.”
“Do you work?” I ask him, trying to keep the conversation going. I don’t want to sit in silence in the truck. That would be really awkward.
“Yeah, even people who look like me have jobs,” he says sarcastically. Ouch.
“I didn’t mean it like that... I meant what do you do for work?” I really need to watch how I word things. Sometimes really dumb stuff spews out of my mouth.
“I build custom motorcycles.”
Wow. I’ve never been on a motorcycle, and I’m pretty scared shitless of them, but it sounds like an interesting career to actually build them.
“That sounds pretty cool. I’ve never been on one.”
He bugs his eyes out at me as if I have ten heads. “What? Seriously?”
I nod. “I’ve always been scared of them.”
He smiles a smile that lights up his entire face. “I’ll tell you what, Evie. Come spring, I’ll take you on a ride on this very road where we just crashed. It’s awesome that time of year. There’s a cool little waterfall a ways up that’s beautiful and so freakin’ peaceful. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t know about that...”
“Trust me, I’ll go slow and take you on my favorite bike. I promise you’ll love it.” He looks so hopeful that I have to agree to it. And he called me Evie. No one’s called me that since I was a little girl.
“I guess I can think about it. If you promise to go really, really slow.”
“Deal.”
I wonder if our little ride will ever really happen. What if this storm gets worse and we are stuck out here for days? What if no one finds us and we starve or freeze to death? Will the insurance company pay for my car damage? Will Michael remember to feed Halo?
I start to shake and breathe heavy and my hand instinctively grips the door handle. I close my eyes shut tight and will the fear to stop. Please stop, I beg myself. Not here, not now, not with him. But it’s too late. The trembling has already started.
“Hey, are you all right, Evelyn?” Sarcasm is replaced with concern. I nod, unable to find my voice. I grip the door handle even tighter, fighting the urge to fling the door open and run. I have to get out of this truck. I have to get out of here and make the fear stop.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick? You’re all pale. Talk to me.”
A wave of dizziness washes over me, leaving me feeling nauseous and short of breath.
“Panic attack... I’ve had them since I was a little girl...” My heart is pounding so hard, I can feel it in my ears and now I feel hot like I am sitting in an oven, but still shivering. I’m a mess.
“Oh, fuck.” He turns sideways on the seat, so his back is leaning against the door. “Come here.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls me to him, my back against his chest. He covers us with the blanket and wraps his arms around the front of me in a bear hug.
“Just lean against me,” he says softly. “Close your eyes and just listen to my voice.”
My hands come up to clasp around his. My entire body is shaking and my brain is going a thousand miles a minute, hundreds of fears and bad thoughts rushing in. I hate this feeling so much. I just want it to stop.
Storm starts to talk, his voice soft and smooth, just above a whisper. “When I was little, I used to spend the weekends at my grandparents’ house. They live on two-hundred acres of land, mostly mountain. It used to be a farm and the old barn and some other buildings are still on the property my grandfather uses for storage. Their house is beautiful, all brick with lots of windows. Its big, four bedrooms, huge dining room, but super comfy. My Gram loves to decorate. She’s one of the types who decorate for each season and holiday, like putting those little animated statues up at Christmas and shit. The living room has a huge fireplace and I loved to sleep in front of it in the winters. When all we kids stayed there, some of us slept on the floor in the living room.”
As he’s talking, he’s gently stroking my hand and fingers with his. The sound of his voice and the gentle touch is lulling me. I close my eyes and allow my body to relax into his.
“Gram loved to bake and would make us these awesome snickerdoodle cookies, and real hot cocoa made from real chocolate with warm milk and homemade whipped cream. It was frickin’ awesome. My brothers, my sister, and I used to walk the trails on the property, and we’d see deer and some foxes. If it were snowing, my grandfather would come outside and build these huge snowmen with us. One year, he even made us an igloo. Then we’d all go inside, half frozen, and Gram would have homemade soup or stew ready for us. It was a really great way to grow up. I always felt safe and happy there. Even now, if I’m going through a fucked up time, I’ll go stay at their house for a few days, and Gram will treat me just like I’m ten years old, and ya know what? I don’t even fuckin’ care, cuz sometimes we all just need to be taken care of a little bit. Right?”
I nod. “Thank you, Storm,” I whisper. My panic attack has stopped. I don’t know how he knew it would work, but it did. I didn’t have to take a sedative, or run home to hide, or sit in a crumbling mess for hours like I usually do when a panic attack comes on. All I needed was this man’s arms around me with the sound of his voice sharing sweet memories. I start to sit up to move back to my side of the truck, but he gently holds me back. “Stay like this... I’ll keep you warm.”
That’s true, I am much warmer wrapped up against him. My brain struggles to accept that it’s okay to essentially cuddle with someone in a dire situation, even though he’s weird and scary and wearing eyeliner for some unknown persona.
We sit in silence for a while, the only sound in the truck the dog’s gentle breathing as he sleeps. Niko seems unfazed by our ordeal and content to just have Storm with him.
“Niko looks so peaceful. I have a cat,” I blurt out.
Storm lets out a small laugh like he is amused with me. “Really? Okay... tell me about your cat.”
Some o
f Storm’s hair is lying across my shoulder, mingling with my own hair. It’s odd, to see a man’s long hair entangled with my own, his dark, almost black, against my cherry brown. I find it slightly erotic. I quickly shake the thoughts out of my head.
“His name is Halo. He’s pure white and he was born deaf. My mom gave him to me for my eighth birthday. He’s eighteen years old.”
“Eighteen? Are you kidding me?” he asks clearly shocked.
I nod and smile, even though he can’t see my face. “Yup. He’s great. Even though he can’t hear, he’s still really sweet. He follows me all over the house and he sleeps with me every night. He has really pretty blue eyes. It’s like you could get lost in them, they are so blue.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a deaf cat, or a dog, for that matter. I love animals. Niko here is my best friend. He’s eight years old.”
“I’ve had Halo for so long I can’t imagine life without him. It’s hard to think he is so old now. I worry all the time something will happen to him. Like now, I hope he’s okay. I hope Michael is feeding him and making sure he has fresh water.”
“Michael?”
“My boyfriend. We’ve been together since high school.”
“Not married?”
Everyone says that and yes, it bothers me. Twelve years together and still no proposal. I let out an aggravated sigh.
“No, not yet,” I reply. “He wants to be more financially stable before he gets married and starts a family.”
“I don’t do relationships anymore. I can’t be bothered with all that shit.”
“So you’re just single all the time? That sounds like it could get pretty lonely.”
“Single maybe, but not lonely. I have a bunch of female friends who I hang out and party with. You know friends with benefits. We hang out, have some fun, fuck for a while, and then they go home.”
I am entirely repulsed and move away from him, resuming my spot across the seat to glare at him. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit gross, Storm? Just fucking a bunch of girls?”
He shrugs at me. “No... not at all. They know where they stand. I don’t lead them on and let them think it might ever be something else. We have fun without all the bullshit. I travel a lot. When I’m in town, I call them up. We have some fun, and that’s it. I practice safe sex, so what’s the big deal?”
