The Road Home

A sharp, fearsome cold permeated the January night. It had already been a hard winter, but the evening’s bare roads belied the many inches of snow that had already fallen this year. Tonight, though, there was a full moon with no cloud cover, and millions of stars twinkled thinly overhead. A clear sky on a full moon often meant temperatures that dipped well below zero, into the killing region. The cold kept most people home that night, despite the clear roads and good driving conditions.



         As a result, there were few participants in Renee’s evening reading group. She, of course, was late, rushing out of the house, trying to gather her things, trying to get there on time. She was scatterbrained lately, even more than usual, unable to focus on the minute details of her life since her mother’s recent death and her father’s passing the year before. With the approaching anniversary of his death, and the recent loss of her mother, she supposed she was lucky she could function at all. Guiltily, she sometimes hated her parents for making her an only child. It would have been wonderful to have a sibling to share her grief, to help with the funeral arrangements, to help take care of her afterward.



         She was surprised that the car started, it was so cold. She waited while the engine warmed up, appreciating how quickly the heater went to work, even on this bitter night. She had rushed out this afternoon without remembering her boots. No one had been there to say, “What are you doing?! Put your boots on! It’s amazing you ever lived past the age of twelve, upon my word…..” as her mother would have. No one was there any longer, to tell her what to wear, what to eat, when to be home, what to think.



         The temperature gauge finally jumped up to a warm position, and she backed the car out onto the street. She left the outskirts of Camden, and drove out Route 105, into the woods. The road was narrow and the night was dark, but the heater was pumping out heat and she hummed along as the radio played an old favorite. Shortly after passing through Hope, she entered Appleton and came to a stop at a crossroads. There was no traffic. She had been alone on the road all the way, so far. Slowly she turned left, but before she had gathered any speed at all, it happened.



         A deer ran into the road in front of her. Her foot jumped to the brake, and the car jerked to a stop. The deer stopped too, a foot or two from the headlights. It was a doe. She stood unsteadily for a moment, and then her hind legs went out from under her. She collapsed to the ground and lay still. Renee thought the doe must have slipped on the ice and fallen, but the road was bare. Still, she looked for some ice, for some explanation, but there was none. Then she looked for dogs or coyotes to come rushing from the woods and surround the deer, their prey. Often dogs chased a deer until it collapsed from exhaustion. Surely, this was such a case…but there were no dogs. There were no coyotes. There was just a deer lying very still in the road in front of her car.

         

         She wondered what to do. She could drive around it, pretend nothing had happened, and continue on home. No, she thought, some unsuspecting driver would come barreling over that little knoll, not see the deer in the darkness, and bam, they’d be flying off the road, spinning sideways into a tree. No, that wouldn’t do. Who do you call in a situation like this? Must be the game warden, she thought. I’ll call the game warden.



She rummaged around in the darkness, trying to find the cell phone. The overhead light in the car didn’t work, and she hadn’t remembered to bring a flashlight. The car’s interior light had quit working weeks ago, and she hadn’t bothered to get it fixed. Her mother would have made her take it to the repair shop, but without her mother’s prompting, Renee just didn’t do it. She mentally berated herself for not having gotten it fixed, and also for not having put the flashlight in the car. Finally she found the cell phone, and with a shaking finger, pressed a key. The screen didn’t light. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d plugged the phone in to charge. She didn’t use it often, and with no one to remind her to do it, she’d forgotten to keep it fully charged. I’m such an idiot, she thought, I can’t do anything right. A hollow, upside-down feeling of fear and foreboding started to grow below her ribcage.



The car, which had been idling since her sudden stop, made a funny little hiccupping sound. The headlights dimmed and went out, and the engine stopped. There she sat, in a dead car with a dead phone. There wasn’t a house within three miles, she was wearing only sneakers and thin cotton socks on her feet, and it was the coldest January night of a particularly brutal winter. The full moon gloated over the still scene, eerily lighting the unfortunate deer in the road before her. Renee gazed at the doe’s unmoving, supple body lying on its side. You’re the lucky one, she thought, all you had to do was run out here and die; what am I going to do? It occurred to her that her feet were getting very cold. As she began to shiver, she realized that she could easily join the deer in death, freezing right there in the car. And it would be her own stupid fault.



The enormity of her possible death and the absurdity of the whole situation overwhelmed her. She began to cry. The tears were hot on her cheeks, and briefly she wondered if the little drops would freeze, crystal-like on her face, to be found there by the next passers-by who would discover her body. That’s silly, she thought, salt water doesn’t freeze. Then she thought, no, that’s really a silly thought, what’s happening to me? Am I already entering that half-dozing region people visit before they freeze to death? Or is it just that I’m going nuts, I can’t think for myself, I can’t be responsible for myself, so I’m resorting to insanity…..The little tears became sobs, and then wails of despair.



         Renee didn’t know how long she sat there, sobbing. It seemed like forever, but it may have been only a minute; an epiphany is a lifetime of realization in the heartbeat of a moment. The change in her resolve started out as anger and disgust, turned to resolve and indignation, and merged with a sudden strength she didn’t know she had. Her despair and incompetence withered in the heat of these new feelings. She felt strong. She wouldn’t die.  She could no longer blame anyone but herself for being so foolish, so lazy, and so dependent on others to take care of her. With both parents gone, and no one to turn to, she’d gone on with life as usual, expecting that “someone” would prevent her from harm, and ensure her well-being and safety. Well, it wasn’t going to happen. She was the only person she could depend on now.



         An inner heat made her face burn, her hands were shaking, and her feet were far from cold. She wasn’t going to die! What an absurd, stupid thought. She was going to get out of the car and pull that deer off the road with her own hands. Then she was going to open the hood of the car and use the light of the moon to look at the engine. She had, after all, taken an automotive class a couple years ago – her father insisted – and by God she could figure out how to make the car move again, she was sure. Then she would get home; take a long bath, and put herself to bed. She could take care of herself!



She was just reaching for the car door when she saw the deer’s ear twitch. It twitched again, and the doe raised her head from the road a bit. She struggled to her feet, legs scrambling to get a purchase on the ground, torso heaving to achieve a balance above the legs. The deer was up, shaky and weak, but alive, and she turned her beautiful, delicate head to stare into the car. Renee stared back, dumbfounded. The deer’s black nose seemed only inches from her own, and the doe’s large brown eyes carried meaning. I didn’t die, the doe seemed to say, and you won’t either. Then it stepped delicately to the road’s edge, bounded over the ditch, and was off into the trees on the other side.



Momentarily forgetting about the car’s inoperable state, Renee turned the keys in the ignition. Just as she remembered that the car wouldn’t start, the engine caught and the motor purred along as if nothing had happened. The heater pumped warmth onto her frozen toes, and the headlights poured light onto the unobstructed road ahead. She put the car into gear and took off for home, humming along with the radio. Tomorrow, she thought, I’ll take the car in to get that overhead light fixed.