Milford Daffy Day by J A Hoda

Author:J A Hoda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: John A. Hoda

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I open my eyes. I can’t see clearly. I wipe them with my hand. Blood coats my fingers. Then I feel pulsing in my forehead. I look at the spider cracks in the windshield directly in front of my face. There’s water dripping inside the car. Tree branches have impaled my pretty cream-colored rag top. Then I remember Ruth and look over. She isn’t moving. I slur, “Ruth,” but it comes out as “Roof.” I shake her. No response.

My car is tilting dangerously toward the passenger side, angled on the embankment. Getting her out of that door will be impossible. Then there is a crack, followed by a short drop. My pony’s left wheels are in the air. Something gave way underneath Ruth’s side. I’m almost thrown on top of her. Through her smudged rain-streaked window I see a flowing creek twenty feet below. Big raindrops splat on the canvas roof and my side of the car.

I pull on her shoulders. She slumps against the passenger window with a thud. The car lurches again. The water seems to have entered my brain, making my thoughts slosh. I think, weirdly, that neither one of us has our bathing suits and we don’t want to go swimming. Where is my bag? Where is my phone? I can’t find them. I start to fade. The car slides again and comes to an abrupt stop. It jolts me back alert. We’re leaning up against a tree that’s straining to remain upright against the car’s weight. I try to open my door, but it slams back down. The law of gravity makes this situation graver. I hoarsely yell, “Help! Help us!” The pounding in my head almost causes me to black out. The tree groans. It’s obvious what I have to do.

I unbuckle Ruth’s seat belt, and she slumps against the window more. Condensation forms on the glass. That means she’s breathing. I pull her towards me, gripping her from behind and wrapping my arms together across her chest. I push the side of her seat with my feet and push my back up against my door. I have to keep Ruth in place with one arm only so I can flip the door handle again with my left hand. The door is nudged open by the back of my aching head. I tighten my grip on Ruth and use all the strength in my legs to backpedal us up and out of my car door. We fall backwards. Ruth’s shoulder punches me in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me. The car door slams above us, and we are out of the car, sliding towards the creek. Our legs are below the undercarriage of the car. If it tilts back onto all four wheels, my pony will trample me. I pull on Ruth again. My feet slip on the wet dead winter leaves and mud. I can’t catch my breath. I find some purchase, then slowly pull Ruth up the embankment, a few more feet away from the car.

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