If he’s been behind me, he might’ve seenwhat happened. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Sure can. Wind your window right down,mate, and take a look.” Oh God, my fingers are operating the lever for thewindow involuntarily, but my head is screaming ‘don’t look!’ The motioncontinues until the glass is fully down. I gently twist my head to the right,ignoring the stabbing knives exploding in my brain. There, laid out flat on theroad is a stag, a beautiful creature. Was a beautiful creature I shouldsay. His antlers, his crowning glory. I count them and note sadly that he was aRoyal Stag. His vacant eyes gaze heavenward and his beautiful coat is no longergleaming; tarnished a ruddy red colour with the gathering pool of blood he isnow lain in.
A strange noise escapes from me and mybody visibly sags into the seat. I realise it was a full body exhale; all thetension I had been holding onto releasing in that glorious exhale. I’d hit adeer; a magnificent deer none the less but it was a deer and not a person, forthat I will be eternally grateful.
I look up at the stranger. “Would you mindhelping me out of the car? I want to see if I’m able to stand up.”
“Is that a good idea? What if you’ve donesomething to your back, if I move you I could make it worse!”
“It’s fine, let’s try and, if there’s aproblem, we can call for help.”
“If you’re sure …” I make some micro adjustmentsto edge closer to the outside of my seat to assist him in manoeuvring me. Ipray he doesn’t see the pain etched on my face which I try to mask as I makethese adjustments, I feel sure he’ll refuse to touch me if he does.
He leans in and fixes an arm in front ofme, and one secured around my back under both arms. I wrap my arms around hisneck best I can. “OK, I’ve got you, let’s go for it.” I try to apply as muchpressure as possible into my thighs to aid him and I step one, then both feetout of the car. I’m now almost erect but my full body weight is leaning on him.I apologise and he motions me back towards the side of the car and instructs meto lean against it. I’ve done it! Hurts like hell but I’m alive and in onepiece and I haven’t killed anyone.
I take a few minutes to rest after theexertion of being heaved out of the car then I ask him to aid me in taking acouple of steps towards the backseats (there’s no point in trying to squeezeback behind the front wheel). Tentatively I take my first step and it goesbetter than I expected. I note that my spine feels compressed and I picture anaccordion being squeezed tightly; imagining the folds of the accordion are thevertebra of my spine. It is somewhat forgiving however as it unfurls slightlyand allows me to take another couple of steps. We make it to the backseats, andhe guides me in, and I am grateful to be sat down again.
My initial thoughts of this situationbeing better than it potentially could have been started to wane when it crossesmy mind that this could be a really bad omen. Hitting and killing a Royal Stagand injuring myself in the process. That’s a big red flag right there sayingTURN BACK NOW! Do not go another minute further on this journey! Well, there issome truth in that for sure as this car won’t be going anywhere. I don’t knowwhat the damage is like elsewhere, but the windscreen is shattered.
The stranger’s name I ascertain is Oliverand Oliver kindly gives the car the once-over for me. All the damage is towardsthe front end of the car. This was a huge beast I killed, and he has certainlyleft his mark. Both lights are out, the bumper is off, and there’s a hugeindentation to the front of the vehicle so we can only imagine the damage underthe bonnet. Oliver suspects the stag hit the front of the car then bounced offthe window, shattering it in the process.
I guess we should notify the Police to getit off the road safely but then I catch myself. Where am I? Where did I get to?I recall I had been so caught up in the vengeful fantasy about persecutingfather that I’d lost all sense of time and place and realise I must’ve beendriving on autopilot. With no chance of referring to the sat-nav now fordirections, I ask Oliver where we are.
He informs me we are just on the outskirtsof the village of Inverarnan which is located by the river Falloch at the southend of Glen Falloch (near the head of Loch Lomond). He points it out to me onhis phone and I get my bearings. It looks as though I’ve been on the road for acouple of hours or so and a quick check at the time on his phone confirms this.It’s around 10.30 a.m. He offers me a lift into the village, but I thank himand tell him to carry on with his journey. I am anxious about leaving the carand decide the best plan is to phone the Police and take it from there.
They arrive in no time but then I imaginethere’s not a lot of crime here! They secure the scene and then drive me intothe village. It’s a picturesque little spot and visited almost daily I’minformed as it forms part of the West Highland Way. A short distance away,apparently, are the Falls of Falloch. I feign interest. I have more pressingmatters to deal with like what do I do now? I am
