A Short Story…
While my wife slept the night away, I was up repeatedly to pee of course, but only because I was actually awake and listening to the rain and more. The trees were in constant motion, I didn’t see any limbs come down, but I was willing to bet in the daylight there would be more to sweep up.
I’m an early-to-riser. I generally got up around six and then drove to Winco for groceries. I don’t like lines . . . I’m a little impatient and Winco usually has decent pricing. Normally I like to leave home about six-thirty, buy our groceries and be back home by seven-fifteen. Today I had listened for a good portion of the night before being up and at-them. I fought the wind a little bit and then walked out to my Chrysler Pacifica. I saw plenty of limbs on the ground but nothing to hinder my driving. I got in my car and the engine fired up perfectly as expected.
I don’t like to drive on Pearl Street, too much traffic, althought this morning, traffic was quite a bit less. I was driving on my normal back road. Usually I can see a pot hole or two, but this morning worrying about the rain, the wind, and tree limbs I tried to stir out of the way, but my right tire didn’t quite disappear, however it certainly got a big thud when I hit it. There was no big deal out of it except for the word “Ouch.” It wasn’t my word. I didn’t say it, but looking up to my review mirror, I saw a young woman looking back at me. I continued on until we got to Safeway. I parked and turned to look in the face of a young woman sitting in my back seat. My first question was “Do you have a gun?” She replied “No.” I nodded my head and then said, “Sooooooo why are you in my car?” “What’s your name and your story?” I asked.
“I’m from Oklahoma. My dad drinks too much. I think we’re part Native American . . . and I had no friends there. My mom took off somewhere. My dad joined the army and now he’s stationed at Fort Lewis. I’ve been hitch-hiking from Oklahoma to here. Period. The facts of my life.” I nodded my head and said, “Why are you in my car . . . and by the way, what is your name?” “Monica, she replied, I know it doesn’t sound like a real Indian name, but it’s what I was given. When I got a ride by a middle-aged guy yesterday he thought I might like to see what Washington has to offer me. He took me to Point Defiance Park and then tried to rape me in the woods. I got away from him and walked along the waterfront to enjoy the view . . . up until the wind and the rain hit. I walked up the road away from the waterfront and tried the doors on five cars. Three of them were locked, so I picked the best looking of the two to sleep in. I swear I didn’t poop or pea in your car, but I would like to poop AND pee right now. I pointed at Safeway and said, “They have a bathroom you can use.”
When Monica came back to the car I asked if she had any place to go. She had none of course, but was ready to go anywhere. I suggested a friend’s place. I knew he had space, but not a car. I said “He’s a nice guy, but not after women. I bet he would be happy to match you up with your father. I could take you out to see him as well as introduce you to a member of the Puyallup Tribe. Her name is Monica, too. Monica was beaming from my last few words and said, “Yes, please.”
You saved that young woman!!!! You were her lifeboat!!
Helping others is just a nice thing to do. I’ve felt that ever since I was a Cub Scout as a youngster. My mother worked in the Boy Scout office in downtown Tacoma and she worked with Bill Leake who later became one of my best friends in The Rotary Club of Tacoma Number 8.