An Almost Heroic Christmas Tale
Chapter 1 – Grounded
I don’t normally mind flying for business.
In fact, this trip gave me the opportunity to check out New York at Christmas.
I had fun but missed Carol and the kids.
And then there was the return trip.
Sitting in the Newark airport the Friday night before Christmas is not fun.
It seemed like every flight was delayed.
Snow in Chicago had schedules messed up everywhere.
I leaned against a wall at the gate reading another murder mystery novel when something seemed off.
I didn’t know what it was at first.
Then it hit me.
No background music.
In fact, I hadn’t heard any announcements in a while.
I looked around and everything seemed normal.
The crowds milled about.
People rushed to and fro with their suitcases rolling along with them.
I checked the sign above the gate desk to see if the delay had changed.
The screen was white with the number 404 in the center.
No big deal, I thought. I could just check my airline app on my phone.
“No internet” read the screen.
“You got any internet?” A man standing next to me asked.
“Airport internet seems to be down.” I logged off the WiFi.
“I’m not on the WiFi and I got nothin’.” The man held his phone at different angles.
I can only assume that he was trying to get a better signal.
“I’ve got 4 bars but no internet.” I tried calling Carol. A rapid busy signal assaulted my ear.
The noise level along the concourse rose until a crackle of static on the PA system preceded, “Attention passengers and employees. The FAA has notified airport operations of a country-wide internet outage. All outgoing flights will be delayed until further notice. Incoming flights within one hour of arrival will arrive on a delayed basis. Flights further out are subject to rerouting. We will update you as soon as we have further information.”
The silence immediately after the announcement was deafening.
I tried calling Carol again. Same busy signal.
I tried Liz, my oldest. Same busy signal.
Sam, my 13-year-old just got a phone last month. Same busy signal.
I’m ashamed to say that my first thoughts went to getting dinner since I wouldn’t be getting back to Nashville anytime soon. I grabbed my carryon handle, secured my laptop bag on top of my carryon, and headed toward the food court.
Before I could see the food court, I could hear the commotion. “Duh, no internet, no payments, no food.”
Then I thought, “I’ve written about this kind of thing. What would my protagonists do?”
I’m an amateur author – not published except through blogs and social media. But I have written several novels.
I started to put myself in the mindset of a main character in the middle of a disaster and asked, “What Would My Hero Do?”
At arrivals, the car-rental counters were packed.
An acronym appeared visually in my thoughts – “WWMHD, What Would My Hero Do?”
I headed for the exit.
Hastily written “CASH ONLY” signs were taped to every taxi. Similar signs graced the windows of a line of ride share cars. I ran to the first one of those.
“How much to Nashville.”
“Ha! I could make two grand tonight and still get home for bedtime.”
“So, five thousand?” I only had $250 on me but I figured I could scrape together the rest once I got home.
The man thought for several seconds. “Half up front.”
“$250 up front and the rest on arrival. And I’ll throw in the guest bedroom to sleep in before your return trip.”
His New Jersey accent came on strong. “Get lost!”
“Fine, how much to the rental car lots.”
“Fifty bucks.”
“Come on, I need to pay for a rental too.”
A man who was walking past suddenly stopped. “You going to rent a car? Can we split the fare.”
I turned back to the driver. “Twenty dollars each. You can be back here in ten minutes and make a fortune shuttling people to the lots.”
“Get in.” Came the exasperated reply.
Chapter 2 – Cash and Charm
We both slid into the back seat with our carryon bags in our laps.
“Let’s see the cash.”
We both handed over twenty-dollar bills and were hurled into our seats as he punched it into traffic.
“I’m John Willis.” The other man held out a hand to me.
I shook it. “Peter.” I didn’t really want to talk to this guy, but my momma raised a good polite southern boy.
“Where ya’ headed?” He had a bit of a southern accent too.
“Springfield, Tennessee. You?”
“Bowling Green. Hey ain’t Springfield just north of Nashville?”
“Yeah, about an hour south of you.”
“How ‘bout we split the cost of a car. That way, we can switch off driving and sleeping.”
My head was buzzing on information overload.
WWMHD.
He was right that it would be safer driving with two people, but I didn’t know this guy from Adam.
I prayed. One of those quick prayers in my head that doesn’t really have any words besides “A little help here?”
I truth checked him. “What’s Bowling Green best known for?”
“Anybody knows that – Corvettes. Ask a tougher one.” He understood what I was doing.
“What interstate do you use to get to Nashville from your home?”
“The 65, though I’d probably take US 68 to 431 to get to Springfield. I live a little west of Bowling Green, a little town called Rockfield.”
At that point the driver pulled up to ACE Rent-a-Car where, surprisingly, there was no line. “I figured you’d have better luck here. The other rental places can be walked to from the terminal, so they’re packed.”
We thanked him and rushed to the counter inside.
“Where ya’ heading?” The middle-aged dark-skinned woman asked from behind the rental desk.
“Kentucky and Tennessee.” John replied.
“I don’t think so. Nearest drop off I got is Asheville.”
“That’s only a couple hours from me. I’ll have my wife follow me there in our car.” I pleaded.
She gave me a look that said “no” in no uncertain terms.
“Is your internet back up? John asked.
“I wish! They got me fillin’ out all this by hand.” She held up a long form with lots of small print.
“Seriously, here’s my address.” I showed her my driver’s license. “I can drop it off in Asheville tomorrow, Sunday at the latest.”
“They tell me I gotta see two picture ID’s for every driver.”
I was so glad I thought to bring my Springfield School District badge with me. I showed it to her.
“You a teacher?”
“Middle school language arts.”
“My nephew in Atlanta just got his teacher’s license and he got himself a middle school job down there.”
“Smart man.”
“Crazy man is more like it.” She took my license a started filling out the form. “You got cash for the first two days?”
“How much?” My mind raced with fears she was going to ask for a thousand.
“Boss says keep it simple. Hundred bucks a day for any car except the special collection and you ain’t taking my Ferrari from me.”
“John pulled out two fifties, and I fished out a hundred.”
She took the money and set it on the counter. “Oh, and I gotta see proof of insurance from each driver.”
I prayed that my Apple Wallet still worked.
It did and I showed her my digital insurance card.
John struggled with his phone. “I don’t have it in my wallet app and the insurance app can’t login.”
“One driver it is.” She checked a box on the form.
“You’re gonna have to keep me awake.”
“Sure thing, Pete.”
She handed me my ID’s and the form. “Keys are in the cars. Pick out any except those in the last row and drive it to the gate and Hank will inspect the car and get you on your way.”
We turned and saw a line was forming with ride share drivers dropping others off by the carload.
As we stepped outside, the lights went out.
A glance back inside showed only the weak glow of emergency back up lights.
“Which one do we choose?” My mind going to the economy side of the lot. Less gas meant we might make it on our limited cash.
A little nudge in my head drew me to the minivans. I figured I was nuts until I saw one that had a Hybrid badge on the back and was plugged into a charger.
John opened the hatch and threw his bag in. “I drove one of these for work. Got 40 miles per gallon, has plenty of power and a smooth ride.”
I threw my bag in too and unplugged it from the now dead charger. “Works for me. Let’s hit the road.”
Chapter 3 – New Jersey in the Dark
Hitting the road was easier said than done.
The van’s navigation system worked fine, so we had maps, but no traffic data.
My eyes supplied the traffic data – gridlock.
I won’t go into the boring details of our escape from the New Jersey suburbs. Suffice it to say we left the parking lot just after 7pm and were finally moving west on Interstate 78 by 9:30pm.
The traffic thinned out quickly then.
Soon it appeared we were traveling through a rural area though I knew we were still in the suburbs. Besides headlights and the occasional generator or battery powered lights, the scenery was black.
The sliver of the moon slid behind the thickening clouds as we headed west.
I remained keyed up all the way through New Jersey but as we approached the Pennsylvania Border, fatigue started to hit me.
Chapter 4 – Pit Stop
While the Delaware River Bridge remained dark, the lights of the City of Easton shone in the distance.
I tapped John’s shoulder. “I’m going to stop at the next exit with services to get some caffeine and top up on gas while we can.”
“You want me to drive?” John’s drowsy voice slurred a little.
“I’m an English teacher. We follow the rules.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a lawyer. We write the rules.”
“Well played. Are you really a lawyer?”
“Ambulance chaser extraordinaire.”
“So, you must have been flying first class.”
“Not yet. I’m one of a couple of dozen ambulance chasers in the Bowling Green area alone. I’m trying to break into tort law. That’s why I was in New York, for a seminar on it. Kind of a rip off but what am I gonna do, sue them?”
“So, why were you there?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
“Maybe later.” I turned on my turn signal for an exit that showed promise for gas and food.
I went past a large gas station right at the exit.
“Why didn’t you stop there?” John asked.
“No one at the pumps and yellow bags over the handles. Their pumps probably don’t work without an internet connection.”
At they next intersection was an older station with just one pump island. A car was already on the right side.
I circled around so the tank was on the correct side.
I got out and went to the passenger side by the time John opened his door. “I’m sure we’ll have to pay first…”
A series of gunshots sounded in the store. One iron grated window shattered.
A man in a black hoodie backed out of the door.
“WWMHD” I thought.
The hero in my mind took too long to think.
The man turned around and pointed his pistol straight at my face. “Throw me your keys.”
The hero in my head woke.
I unclipped my key ring from my belt and tossed it the ten feet or so to him.
I grabbed John’s arm. “To the store.”
I ran to the door with one eye on the man running to our van.
“My stuff!” John yelled from the door.”
“Get inside!” I yelled. “He’s not going anywhere.”
I pushed him through and slammed the door behind us.
I found a steel bar leaning next to the door.
“Find a back room and try to call 911.”
“I already did,” came a voice from behind the bullet proof glass of the cashier.
I latched the bar into place across the door, glancing outside to see the hooded man pounding on the steering wheel.
“Back here.” The cashier opened a door.
John and I ducked through the door just as two bullets flew wildly through the store.
The bullets stopped.
“He’s probably out of ammo.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the rental car keys. “And he’s not going anywhere in our van.”
“What did you throw him?”
“My keys from home.”
Sirens sounded outside.
I turned to the cashier. “I take it 911 is working here?”
“From the landline.” He held up an old-style cordless phone.
Outside, tires screeched, voices yelled and faded away.
Chapter 5 – Special Lodging
After what felt like an hour but was likely 10 minutes, a knock came at the front door. “Police, is everyone okay in there?”
The cashier spoke into the phone.
After a moment he nodded at us. “It’s really the police.”
“We’re good.” I got to the door and lifted the bar.
Two officers were outside.
One aimed a taser at me. “Keep your hands on your head while my partner checks you for weapons.”
I obeyed as the officer got too close for comfort.
As he did, I looked around and saw the hooded man being placed in the back of a police SUV.
“That man may still have my key ring from home.”
The officer smiled. “You’re the one he’s been swearing at. Do you have the van keys?”
I awkwardly pointed downward “In my pocket, if I may?”
The officer who had just finished frisking me nodded and moved on to John.
“Go ahead. It will be easier to get on the tow truck with the keys,” the taser armed officer said.
I’m sure my face went white. “That van is my only way home to Tennessee.”
“You’re not heading home tonight. We’ll need to get your statements back at the station. If you’re lucky, the tech’s will be done processing the van by the time you’re done and you can hit the road tomorrow.”
WWMHD. Would my hero try to run, cooperate, plot an escape from the police station?
Before I did anything too stupid, my teacher brain took over. “Is there anyplace we can sleep while we wait?”
“You won’t like it.”
I noticed his name plate. “Officer Patrick, I just don’t want to hit the road in the morning too drowsy.”
“You can call me Charley and my handsy partner is Clyde.” He slapped Clyde on the shoulder. “Let’s get downtown so we can get you going.”
The ride in to back of the police cruiser was uneventful besides the almost overwhelming smell of strong cleaners.
“Sorry about the smell but it’s a lot better than before we cleaned it. Last passenger was DUI, very DUI.” Charley spoke loudly so he could be heard through the plexiglass barrier.
We both gave statements at the police station.
I almost fell asleep during my questioning, twice.
By the time they showed us to a holding cell with two cots and my head hit the poorly cushioned, plastic covered mattress, I was out. Maybe it was the crash after the adrenaline rush. Maybe just exhaustion. But I slept hard.
Until I didn’t.
After dreams of being chased by a hooded gunman and being tased, I woke. I don’t know if it was five minutes or five hours later. I just know that sleep escaped me for the rest of the night.
Oh, I lost consciousness a few times. In those moments, I fell straight into the same nightmare and forced myself awake so I wouldn’t have to endure it.
Finally, an officer we hadn’t met before roused us with a couple of glazed donuts and some bitter coffee. “Creamer’s over there.” He waved in the general direction of a kitchenette.
We found a couple seats at a little table near the coffee machine.
I must have made a terrible face on my first sip. “I’m a tea drinker,” I explained to John.
“Don’t worry, this really is horrible coffee.”
“Diner’s down the street if you want the good stuff.” The officer gave vague wave toward the front of the station. “We’ll get you when they’re done with your van.”
I piled the sugar and creamer in my styrofoam cup. “Any idea how long?”
He chuckled. “Jim should be in any minute. I’d let him know you’re in a hurry but knowing him, that’d only slow him down.”
Chapter 6 – Small Blessings
Caffeine and sugar started to pump through my veins as we made our way to the little diner.
The only seats were at the counter. One advantage of that was a TV hung on the wall right in front of us.
The news wasn’t good.
“At last report, about one third of the country is without power. The Northeast Corridor and the West Coast are hardest hit but there are pockets throughout the country in the dark. Ironically, the areas with the newest infrastructure were hit the hardest.”
“I wonder who I can sue for all this.” John commented.
“You weren’t kidding about being an ambulance chaser, were you?” I looked at John. Something about his expression made me wonder how much he meant it.
The talking heads continued. “The situation is far worse in the Midwest as a powerful storm is dumping snow as far south as Huntsville, Alabama.”
“Looks like we better go down through Virginia,” I said.
“As long as I can get home by tomorrow night.”
“That depends on if we can find gas.”
A power outage map filled the screen. “As bad as this looks, it’s nothing compared to the internet outages.” The map zoomed out and spun as the entire globe was colored in red indicating no internet anywhere.
“The latest reports we hear out of Washington point to a cyberterrorist attack which has inflicted irreparable damage to the servers that form the backbone of the internet.”
The co-anchor asked, “Will we ever see a true normal again?”
“That’s a good point Jo-Ann. Life will never be the same, which leads to the first good news of the day. One of the leading manufacturers of gasoline dispensers has sent out instructions to all of the gas stations using their equipment to operate the pumps without the internet. You will need cash, but you should be able to get gas in most areas just in time for Christmas Eve tomorrow.”
They blathered on about shopping and how Santa would get around.
John gave me a serious look. “What do you think our chances of getting home are?”
Even though I’m an English teacher, not a math teacher, I’d been doing some math calculations in my head. “This van has about a 500-mile range. If we find gas here, we just need one more fill up before my home. I know I have enough gas in my pickup at home to get you home from there. If we get the van back this morning, we should be to my home by late tonight. I can get you home tomorrow.”
“I might be able to sue you for going to your house first.” He smiled.
“I’ll claim the Good Samaritan defense.” I smiled back.
“So why were you in Jersey?”
“Wrapping up some business my dad started before he passed away last year.”
“Sorry for your loss.” He hesitated for only a second. “Was it a wrongful death.”
“Boy, you don’t quit.”
“Sorry, too many years of having it drilled into my head.”
“Maybe I should have you sue those jerks in Manhattan who made me come all the way out here even though we could have done this all online.”
Our food arrived and the conversation faded to chewing.
We finished the food and debated getting more coffee when an officer came in the front door. “Your van’s ready for you.”
A man at a table by the door quipped, “dang, your mechanic has the cops deliver your car?”
The officer who I now realized was Charley from the night before knocked the hat off the man’s head. “Mind your own business, Frank.”
“Geez Chuck, can’t take a joke?”
“Whatever, c’mon guys, my coffee’s getting cold.”
The officer handed me the keys on my way out the door. The van was pulled up to the curb outside.
“Old man Tanner, the guy who owns the gas station was sorry for your trouble and filled her up for you.”
For a moment I was speechless. “Well, tell him thanks for us.”
“Will do.” He shook my hand. “You might yet get a summons to testify against that guy. I wouldn’t worry too much about it though. He’ll probably plead out.”
After a few more awkward thanks, we were back in the van. My keys from home sat in the center console.
Before we headed out, I connected my phone to the van’s CarPlay app and tried calling home again.
Rapid busy as always.
We hit the road.
It wasn’t long before we were cruising at a little over the speed limit steadily southwest.
I avoided John’s talking about who he was going to sue next by cranking the music that I thankfully had downloaded on my phone.
Chapter 7 – Burgers, Gas, and Connections
By lunchtime, we were at just over half a tank of gas and were getting hungry, so we ventured off the interstate at Winchester, Virginia. Lines coming out of a shell station told me that they had gas to sell. The tanker to the side told me there was plenty of it. I got in line and sent John across the street for burgers.
While he was gone, I tried to call Carol again.
Rapid busy.
We were still two cars from the pumps when John came back with a Wendy’s bag.
“McDonalds was still closed. Wendy’s had it figured out though.” He handed me a Dave’s Double and fries.
After carefully removing the pickles, I dug in.
When we got to the front of the line, a man operated the pumps with the keypad swung open. “5 bucks a gallon, cash only.”
I paid.
He pumped.
We hit the road.
My thoughts turned to worry about my family when the phone rang.
I immediately hit the green button on the van’s center screen. “Hello?”
“Oh thank God! I’ve been so worried about you.”
“Carol! Is everything okay there?”
“We’re fine, just worried sick about you. Where are you?”
“Winchester, Virginia. We rented a van.”
“We?”
“Another traveler. Say hi to John. You’re on the speaker.”
“Hello John.” Her voice had that tone when she wasn’t sure of something.
“It’s snowing like crazy here. I haven’t been able to pick up anything on the TV or radio and of course, the internet is still out but I think this is all over the place. Please drive safely.”
“We haven’t reached any snow yet, but…”
“What’s that?” Her voice pitched higher. “I gotta check something out front.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just a sec.” There might have been footsteps, but the road noise made it impossible to hear. “Oh. Oh my G….”
The line went dead.
“No!” I frantically tried calling her back.
Rapid busy.
I tried the kids’ phones.
Rapid busy.
I tried texting.
“Undelivered” appeared in red after a few seconds.
WWMHD? I bumped up the cruise a little.
“At least you have family to worry about.” John was trying his phone as well.
“If you don’t have family, who are you calling?”
“My ex.” His eyes were damp. “It’s my baby’s second Christmas and her first without her daddy. Not that she’ll know. I’m a decent attorney but her divorce lawyer is better.”
I silently decided my hero would pray while trying get home safely. I prayed in my mind as John went on.
“I can’t say I blame her. My drinking got a little out of control and I’m not a nice person when I’m drunk.”
“What’s your wife’s name. I’ll pray for her.”
I could feel his stare. “Look man, you do your thing, but you can leave me out of all that religious garbage.”
“If it’s garbage, why are you in such a hurry to get home by Christmas.”
At first, he was silent. Then, “Look, Pam makes a big deal out of Christmas every year. She went wild with the decorations, played Christmas music constantly, always made me go to the candlelight service. It drove me nuts, but I went along with it because I loved her.”
“And still do, or you wouldn’t be rushing home.”
“Well, yeah. But I’m the idiot that drove her away. That and all the religious blather she believes.”
“Is she remarried? Or have a boyfriend?”
“I don’t think so.”
I continued praying silently for Carol and the kids but was feeling enough peace about them that I started to shift my prayers to Pam and John and their child.
“Let me make a bold guess, people from her church talked bad about you. Maybe they even got in your face. Am I right?”
His face went rigid. “Jesus loves you unless you’re an unfaithful drunken sinner.”
“We’re you unfaithful?”
“No! I mean I flirted a little, but I never broke my vows.”
“I’m guessing the flirting came after a few drinks.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still faithful to her?”
“The divorce isn’t final until next month. I’m smart enough to know that, even though the law says it doesn’t matter, messing around would hurt my custody chances, especially in the Bluegrass State.”
“True.” An idea popped into my head. “Am I right to assume that this wasn’t the first time you were hurt by church people?”
“Like I said. I don’t want to get into any of that religious stuff.”
To be honest, he used a slightly stronger word than “stuff.”
Chapter 8 – Virginia is for Snow Lovers
I turned up the music, and we cruised through the brown but still beautiful Shenandoah Valley. The rolling woods and hills reminded me of Tennessee and my thoughts and prayers returned home.
The snowflakes started falling just north of Roanoke, but the pavement stayed clear until past Salem.
I tried the radio and found a radio station giving reports of a massive storm heading into the area, urging people to stay home. “I will once I get there,” I thought.
I tried loading the maps app on my phone so I could see the traffic. No internet, no maps.
“Watch out!” John braced himself.
I looked up to see traffic stopped. I slammed on the brakes and steered for the shoulder.
I managed to stop before the car ahead of me but the car behind slid right into the space I would have been if I hadn’t steered left.
I took a deep breath.
“That was close.” John settled back in his seat.
I looked around and got my bearings. Maybe a quarter mile ahead there was an exit marked “Dixie Caverns.”
“It might be a good time to get off the interstate.” I signaled to the right.
As others trickled off at the exit, I managed to squeeze to the shoulder and get off too. It looked like a little gas station and convenience store was open so I decided it would be good to top off the tank and get a little food.
While several people sat waiting in their cars, the station itself wasn’t busy, so it didn’t take long to fill up and get food and directions to highway 11.
I was happy to see traffic moving on the old highway.
With the freeway gridlocked, few were able to get to it.
But the snow got to it.
At first it was a light dusting.
The wind was blowing it into small drifts causing it to clump up.
The van soaked up the bumps with ease.
Until we started seriously climbing.
The roadway was shaded by trees, and the pavement was fully covered.
We had been getting great gas mileage along the way. Now I was realizing why. We had tires optimized for mileage, not traction.
At the first sign of wheel spin, I let off the gas.
There were two lanes going uphill and I kept to the right to let people with better tires pass.
As the hill got steeper, I realized that wouldn’t work. The right lane was barely creeping with cars sliding sideways with spinning tires.
I merged left, kept my momentum, and got past the first few.
Then there was the delivery truck sideways across both uphill lanes.
A steady line of traffic coming down the hill blocked any chance of passing.
All traffic stopped.
“Lord, please let us get through and get home.” I prayed silently.
John opened his door. “Might as well see if we can help.”
It became quickly obvious that this truck wasn’t going forward even with several pushing.
“Let’s stop the downhill traffic so he can at least back down to the other shoulder.” Someone suggested.
I wasn’t so sure the downhill traffic could stop so I went back to the van and tried to back up to make extra room if things went downhill, literally.
John hopped back in as the truck turned around. “That actually worked.”
“Now to see if we can go forward.” I put it in gear and let the wheels start to creep forward as the truck cleared us.
The clear road ahead of us was not clear. A semi was sliding down our lane straight toward us.
“This is not what I meant when I prayed for us to get home, Lord.” I prayed out loud.
John was too busy swearing to question me.
WWMHD?
I punched the gas and cranked the wheel to the right.
It had the opposite effect. The front wheels spun, and the front of the van swung left as we slid backwards.
A Jeep to the right had just moved forward leaving a gap behind it that we slipped into as I let off the gas and let the van roll backwards to the right.
Straight out the windshield was the view of the wide eyes of a truck driver wrestling with the steering wheel.
Snow and slush sprayed off the roadway to cover our windshield.
I tensed for the impact as the roar of the semi neared.
And passed.
Out the side window, I saw it slide along the guardrail until it stopped maybe a quarter mile downhill.
“Maybe we can talk more about that God stuff now.” John’s voice quavered.
“Thank You.” I whispered heavenward.
“You’re welcome?”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“I know.”
The wipers battled the slushy mess on the windshield until it was clear enough to see.
I tried going forward again slowly. The tires caught, slipped, and caught again.
Slowly we gained speed and altitude until I found my voice again. “I’m no theologian but I know that was the hand of God back there.”
“Okay, if that was the hand of God back there, why does He not always rescue people?”
I sensed in John a real desire to know the answer. “I don’t know but I suspect that God knows. You have a baby daughter, right?”
“Toddler now.”
“Right. Now that she walks, I bet you have to keep a close eye on her.”
“You got that right.”
“Do you catch her every time she falls?”
“Hah, I try, but there’s no way.”
“But you soothe her when she cries afterward.”
“Well, yeah. I mean when her mom’s not around.”
I smiled. “Yep. Moms are usually better at that. Sometimes Mom and Dad aren’t around, and she learns to get up on her own, right?”
“I see where you’re going, sometimes God doesn’t rescue us so we can learn. But how can you learn if you die from the fall?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, I have the easy answer but it’s not a good one.”
“What’s that, and don’t say that God wanted them to come to him.”
“Been there heard that, huh? That’s pretty close to what I was thinking. Life is eternal and the little bit of it we live here on Earth is the blink of an eye compared to eternity. But I don’t think God is selfish enough to rip people away from us early just to satisfy His desire for someone’s company.”
“I’m glad to hear you think that, so I won’t have to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me when I’m driving.”
He smiled. “I’d wait till you stopped.”
“That’s a relief.” I was glad John shared my sense of sarcasm.
“I gotta say, I’m happy to hear you admit that you don’t always know.”
“It’s the truth. But I trust that God knows.”
Chapter 9 – Waffles and Creation
Night had closed on us on the slow trip up the incline.
We got to the top of the hill and crossed over a freeway overpass. The ramps were closed in both directions with a long line of cars and trucks heading toward the hill we just came up. Westbound traffic continued to crawl down the old highway.
The town of Christiansburg was dark except for headlights and a few generator lit homes. We crawled through it and several more small towns, all the while staying in the tire grooves in the snow on the old highway.
Mercifully, there were no more long steep inclines. The rolling hills of Southwest Virginia glided past with no more incidents as traffic thinned.
I kept quiet as I concentrated on staying on the road. John nodded off to sleep.
It was approaching midnight when we got to Bristol, on the Tennessee Border.
The power was on. I spotted a Waffle House.
“Hey John. Dinnertime.”
He roused. “You want to stop?”
“I have to stop. It’s that or my bladder explodes or I fall asleep.”
“Or all of the above?”
“Something like that.”
After the dash to the Waffle House bathroom. We settled into a booth where I tried calling Carol again.
Rapid busy.
“Did you want to get the food to go?” John asked.
“No. I’ve been praying as I’ve been driving, and I have a sense of peace about her. Though I don’t want to take too long. I mainly know that rushing there in this weather will only make it more likely we won’t get there.”
“You’re still going to get me home tomorrow, or at least let me borrow a vehicle?”
“My old pick-up can get through the snow no problem. I’m sure you’re anxious to see that girlie of yours.”
“Yeah,” John said quietly.
“You know, if you get back there as a changed man, you might be able to patch things up.”
“You know, I want to believe like you, but I just don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“Okay, I know you said God has the big picture and this life is really short in light of eternity and all that. I just can’t make that mental leap that God exists.”
“I get it. It’s tough to believe in what you can’t see.”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve heard of miracles, but I’ve also seen plenty of people debunk those miracles. And then, if God exists, why would His people be so mean. God seems to be the reason behind every war, not to mention bigotry, hate crimes, need I go on.”
“Human’s have always loved fighting each other. It shouldn’t be any surprise that they use God as an excuse for it. They use him like a trump card, only everyone has that trump card so everyone fights each other in the name of God. But do you know what I don’t have enough faith for?”
“You have more faith than anyone I know.”
I silently prayed I wouldn’t mess this up. “I don’t have enough faith to believe there isn’t a God. I’ve travelled enough to know that this earth is amazingly beautiful and complex.
“I know you can explain the colors of a sunset with scientific facts, but you cannot explain why they are so beautiful in human eyes. That took a true creative artist. Only the existence of a Creator could explain the beauty of creation.
“And then just look at the human body. There are enough possible DNA combinations that two people looking completely alike outside of identical twins is a statistical impossibility even with 8 billion people. Only a true Creator could create the complex physical processes for us to find life and beauty.”
“Huh. I’ll have to think about that.”
Chapter 10 – Welcome to Tennessee, Now Go Home
We finished our waffles in silence and headed onto Interstate 81.
The snow was lighter here and TDOT did a super job clearing it. Even so, the traffic was crawling. Blue and red lights flashed, and traffic merged to one lane.
I strained to see the cause. “You see anything?”
“There’s a cop talking to people in cars.
“Some are turning around at a crossover up ahead.”
“But some are getting through?”
“Yeah, it looks like it.”
Eventually we got up to a spot with state troopers on both sides. Several Tennessee National Guard troops lined the shoulders.
“Driver’s license please.” The trooper on my side commanded.
I showed it. “What’s the problem?”
“License or ID.” He shined his flashlight back through the van as he reached his hand toward John.
John showed his license.
“Please pull over to the weigh station. They’ll explain there.”
“But.”
“Don’t impede traffic, pull into the weigh station or turn around.”
WWMHD?
I tried to stay calm and pulled the van off to the weigh station.
“Please turn off the vehicle and remain seated.” A young lady in a Tennessee National Guard uniform commanded once we pulled into a space.
“Please step out of the vehicle.” A guardsman who looked like he was a starting linebacker on his high school football team just last year commanded John.
The first soldier waited until John was completely outside. “Please make sure all the doors are unlocked.” Without waiting she opened each door, shined her flashlight in to inspect every part of the van.
“Vehicle clear.” She spoke into a mic on her shoulder and turned to me. “Why are you traveling with a Kentucky citizen.”
Outside I could see John arguing with the soldier.
“Just giving him a ride home. We were both in New Jersey on business trips when they shut down the flights. We shared the cost of the rental.”
“Well, he’s lucky he’s traveling with you. The governor has given an executive order restricting entry to the state to only Tennessee citizens. Only exceptions are students returning home from college and those traveling with Tennessee residents to a maximum of three per vehicle.”
“Since when?”
“Since this morning, though we didn’t get this checkpoint set up until noon.”
The soldier talking with John was getting tense, gripping his rifle.
John put his hands up in defense.
They exchanged a few more words and John got back in. “This is so unconstitutional!”
“You’re free to go.” Both soldiers informed us.
Sue them later. Let’s get while we can.
“I thought Bubba there was gonna give me a cavity search.” John squirmed in his seat as I eased away from the weigh station.
“Yeah. Weird.” I found myself wanting to make the miles fly by. I eased up to the speed limit on the wet interstate.
Chapter 11 – Range Anxiety
The horizon behind us glowed as we approached Nashville. I turned north on Highway 45 well short of the city.
No internet on Christmas Eve early in the morning made for very light commute traffic.
One other reason for no traffic – every station in this area had some sort of “no gas” sign in front of it.
WWMHD?
Maybe John could help.
“We might have a problem.” I spoke as John stirred.
“Hmm? Where are we?” He straightened up and looked around.
“Just got on north 45. Only an hour to my house.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“The tank’s on empty and none of the stations have gas around here.”
“Is there power?”
“Traffic lights are working.”
“Any working charge stations?”
I pulled into a BP station with a row of chargers. One had a car plugged in.
“Maybe.”
“I got this.” John hopped out as soon as I reached a charger. He hit something on his phone and held it to the screen on the charger. It lit up and he plugged it into the port just in front of my door.
I opened the door. “How’d that work without the internet?”
“No idea.” He shrugged. “Maybe the internet’s coming back here.”
I checked my phone. No internet. I tried calling.
It rang.
Once.
Voicemail.
I left a message, praying she could get it.
John pointed at the dash. “How long to full charge?”
“Hour and a half.”
“Okay. I’m gonna get some grub. You want anything?”
“A nap.”
John started walking away saying, “sweet dreams.”
“And coffee when I wake up.”
“Sure thing boss.”
I reclined my seat and was out as soon as my eyes shut.
I had dreams of walking through snow. The farther I walked, the deeper the snow.
Then bombs started raining down.
Boom, boom, boom.
Boom, boom, boom.
My eyes flew open. John was knocking on my window. I had locked him out.
I found the door handle. “How long was I out.”
“I don’t know but the van is charged.”
I looked at the dash. 100% charged, 33 mile range.
John handed me a Kroger bag and a hot cup. “Hope you like Earl Grey.”
“Oh thank God.”
“I had something to do with it too?”
“Thanks John.”
“Didn’t know what kind of donut you liked so I got an assorted dozen.” He unplugged the charger and climbed in.
“Cashier at the Kroger said some businesses have internet now but they’re only allowing important data through – gas stations, grocery stores, and the like. No Facebook or YouTube yet. It came on in this area yesterday evening and it was a mad house last night. Bunch of bare shelves in there and all the gas stations sold out. They should get more later today.”
I tried calling Carol and the kids’ phones. I got the dreaded fast busy on each.
“Let’s hit it.”
“How far to your house?”
“About 35 miles. And the van says 33 miles range. It’ll be close.”
“It’s probably got a little more gas in the tank. We should be fine.”
I stuck to the speed limit. “I don’t remember ever seeing this much snow in this area. At least not since I was a kid in the blizzard of ’93.”
“I wasn’t even alive then.”
“At least the roads are clear. Our house is in the country, though, so I wouldn’t count on the last couple of miles being clear. I just hope they figured out how to use the plow on the lawn tractor to clear the driveway.”
I learned the true meaning of “range anxiety” that morning. The range went down far quicker than the odometer went up. It hit zero ten miles from home.
On we drove, yellow fuel warning on the dash. The engine kicked on to keep things charged and cut off when the battery had enough to move us.
Finally, we made it to our turn off. Just two and a half miles to go.
I knew we had a steep hill ahead to I took the turn a little fast to save momentum.
The snow had melted some when the morning sun hit it.
The roadway was still wet on top.
Frozen underneath.
The worst kind of black ice threw us straight to the shoulder.
The string of expletives that came from John and me was cut off by the bang of airbags.
Our momentum was enough to send us over the snowbank.
My head rested on the side airbag as we slowly tipped and slide down the snow slick embankment.
My side window shattered, and the windshield cracked as we hit something hard and rolled completely upside down.
Branches poked me through the window.
John was silent.
The only voice was the car saying, “dialing 911” followed a minute later by “call failed.”
Then the dash went dark.
“Where’s your God now?” John growled.
I grasped for answers.
This was the biggest WWMHD moment yet.
The only words I found were directed at God. “How about it, God? We could use a little help here.”
More words came to me. “God knows our situation. He’s sending help right now.”
Then, I must have lost my mind. “In fact, Carol is on her way here right now.”
The rational me wished I could take those words back.
John struggled with his seatbelt, grunting with the effort. “Well, I hope she brings a knife to cut these belts.”
“If she brings my truck, there’s all sorts of things in the toolbox.”
“Tell you what, if she shows up in the next minute, I’ll believe in that God of yours.”
He backed up his words by setting a timer on his watch.
“I don’t think God really works that way.” I started to say.
“I don’t care.” He pressed his hands on the ceiling to try to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulder from the seatbelt. “I want out of this now and if your God is real, He can make it happen.”
“Dad?” My son’s voice shouted followed by the sound of him sliding down the hill.
“I’m here, Sam!” I turned to John. “I guess God agrees with you?”
“Where’s Carol and a knife?”
Sam climbed in through the broken rear window. “Mom’s grabbing your crash bag.”
“Careful bud. There’s a lot of glass in here.” I straightened the mirror so I could see him.
“Mom’s been freaking out all morning. It’s like she knew this was going to happen. We were on our way out here when we saw you slide off from the top of the hill.”
“Peter, I have your crash bag, what do you need?” Carol’s voice was honey to my ears.
“The cutting tool.”
She tossed it to Sam.
John’s timer chimed.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Support John while I cut his belt.”
Sam held John’s torso while the sharp little tool made short work of the belt.
John rolled over onto his knees. “Thank you.” His voice was low and unsteady as he wiped his eyes and crawled toward the back.
I hooked my knees on the steering wheel and cut my belt. My balance wasn’t as good as I hoped but Sam caught me as I slid around.
A wave of relief came with my son’s embrace.
Carol and Liz repeated the warm embraces outside.
John was leaning against a tree, shoulders trembling, face hiding in the crook of his arm.
Paramedics slid and walked down the embankment.
They helped us up to the road where John and I were ushered into their big ambulance for treatment.
John looked over at me with red eyes. “I ran away from God when my parents tried to shove Him down my throat. I always knew He was real deep down, but I didn’t want anything to do with Him. I tried to convince myself He wasn’t real but…” He paused.
“Truth is truth whether we believe it or not. But it sure feels better when we recognize the truth for what it is,” I said.
“Thanks to you, I did my business with God against that tree down there.”
We exchanged a warm handshake. Hugs weren’t an option since the paramedics were tending the cuts on my face. The paramedic working on me flashed me a broad smile. A tear threatened to drop from one of her eyes.
“Mr. Willis?” Sam held a phone in to John. “I hope you don’t mind, I found your phone and dialed your emergency contact. Your wife is on the line.”
John looked at me. “Yet another miracle.” He grinned and grabbed the phone on his way out of the ambulance.
I smiled a gave a quick silent thanks for the miracle of getting home.
Epilogue
Once the paramedics finished their first aid and we convinced them that we didn’t need to go to the hospital we crammed into my old crew cab truck and went to our house.
A neighbor plowed our long driveway since a tree fell through the shed that had all our yard equipment. That’s what Carol had screamed about.
Pam, John’s wife, was in Nashville with family and she and their little daughter came to pick him up and joined us for Christmas dinner.
John and I have been friends since. Instead of tort law, he’s making a difference in copyright and publishing law representing me and several of my writer friends in between chasing ambulances.
That long weekend of harrowing travel was the worst and best time of my life.
And it was the start of a whole new life for John.
WRITERS NOTE:
While this story was fiction, the concepts about God are real. If you would like to learn more about God, please join me daily at WITLBible.com or @walk in the light bible study on Facebook. If you want to know how to start a relationship with God, go to PeaceWithGod.net.
Solano Writing 