I braced one hand against the steering wheel and grabbed the gearshift and forced it into park. The car jerked. My head flew forward but the seat belt cinched tight across my chest. The car stopped with a protesting creak, and I slumped back against the seat.
I turned the engine off with my shaky hand. Out. I needed out of the car. My fingers slipped off the seat belt release and I tried again. And again. Finally, the seat belt retracted and I was free.
The night air chilled the perspiration along my spine.
I’m okay. I bent over and held my knees to stop them shaking. One breath. Two. The engine metal pinged as it cooled and I flinched.
I’m okay. What if one of the kids had been in the car? What if the car hadn’t stopped? Joe would kill me if I got hurt. I straightened up and reached into the car and grabbed my purse.
I wanted Joe. I speed-dialed him, but he didn’t answer. Probably still in surgery. I didn’t want to wait. I needed to be home. I needed a ride. Ian, my brother-in-law, owned a mechanic’s shop and could give me a ride and tow the car. I wiped my sweaty hand on my leg and punched Ian’s speed-dial.
“Hey, Charlie.” Sleepiness accentuated Ian’s Southern drawl.
“I need a tow.” I wanted to sound mildly perturbed, but my voice squeaked, high-pitched and frantic. My pulse thumped in time with my hazard lights.
“Where are you?” Ian sounded completely awake and serious.
“Not far from Sunnyview. On Briar Ridge Road.” My voice quivered.
“What’s wrong? Is she hurt?” I could hear Liz, Joe’s sister, asking Ian.
“Are you hurt, Charlie?” Ian asked.
“No. My brakes stopped working but I was able to pull off the road. It scared me, but I’m fine.” I cradled the phone against my shoulder and zipped up my jacket.
“The brakes on your CRV? That car isn’t even two years old.” Ian sounded angry at the car. “I’m getting dressed and should be there in twenty minutes. How long until Joe is there?”
“I’m coming, too.” I heard Liz yell in the background.
“Joe’s in surgery but I’ll try to reach him,” I said.
“I’ll have Liz take her car and she can drop you off at home.” Keys jangled in the background. “I’ll be right there,” Ian said.
“Thank you.”
I dialed Joe and he answered. “Hey, sweetie. I’m just going to talk to the patient’s family and I’ll be right home.” His smooth voice blanketed me with warmth.
I walked behind the car, nearly blinded by the bright yellow hazard light’s glow against the dark night. “I had a little car trouble and Ian’s headed out here with the tow truck. Liz is coming with him and she’ll drop me off at home.” My voice sounded calm, cool, and collected; three things I could never achieve on a regular basis.
“What’s wrong?” The tension in Joe’s voice indicated his worry was a seven and a half on our ten-point scare-scale.
“I’m not sure. My brakes failed, but I was able to pull off the road. I’m fine.” My knees trembled and I stomped my feet.
“Failed?” Joe’s tone now struck Joe-problem-solver-mode. “Did you pump the brakes?”
“Yes. The pedal went to the floor.” The memory of the squish, the shush of the pedal made my stomach churn. I hunched further into my jacket.
“Did you downshift?”
“Yes.” The warm fuzzy feeling of hearing his voice slid into exasperation. “Joe, go talk to your patient’s family. We can finish this at home.”
“Was there a puddle under your car when you pulled out of the parking lot?” Joe asked.
There would be no stopping his line of questioning. “You know, at ten-fifteen at night, I didn’t notice a puddle in the parking lot that looks like a moonscape on a good day. I also am not going to crawl under the car to examine for drips or colored fluids.” I kept my tone light, reasonable, but frustration bled into my words.
“Where are you?” he asked shifting out of his diagnostic mode.
“Briar Ridge, I pulled off when the car slowed going up the hill.”
“I’m glad you’re safe, Babe. I’ll be right there. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I wanted him beside me, to pull me close so I could rest my head in the crook of his neck which always made life better. I ended the call and stuffed my hands into my pockets. I could see my breath. I wanted to sit in the car and crank up the heat, but what if the parking brake failed? I hugged myself tighter and decided I could be cold for twenty minutes. Why had my brakes failed? The car was new. It wasn’t like I went off-roading or drove through a construction site.
Ten minutes later I reconsidered the possibility of both the brakes and parking brake failing versus frostbite. A car’s headlights swung around the sharp bend and I stepped behind my car. The headlights dipped down and the white light swept across my body. Please be a sober driver and not a homicidal maniac.
The driver put on their directional and pulled up behind me. Then, I recognized Marabel’s Honda and waved and squealed with relief.
She stopped and rolled down her window. “Charlie? What happened?”
“My brakes went out.” My breath formed a cloud.
“It’s freezing, get in my car.”
The locks clicked open and I scurried around to the passenger’s side and got in. Heat surrounded me and I unzipped my jacket. My nose defrosted and dripped. I fished in my purse for a tissue.
“What a crazy day,” Marabel said.
“Thank you for stopping.” I wiped my nose and pushed the used tissue back in my bag. “I called my brother-in-law for a tow.”
“What happened?” Marabel asked.
I explained my harrowing experience, taking a good five minutes for something that only lasted one.
“I’m glad this day is over.” Marabel slumped forward, rested her elbows on the steering wheel and massaged her forehead. “The cops searched Eric’s car but didn’t find drugs. He must have a hiding place the dogs
