― H. L. Mencken
Stella, my beautiful but nosey neighbour, interrupted my supper insisting she inspect my new electric fence to see if it met with her approval.
Of course, she found fault with it but in the process of walking the line I got zapped by the current and fell backwards into a woodpile, trapping my leg under a heavy log.
I couldn’t free myself and the log was too heavy for Stella to move.
Try as hard as she might, the log wouldn’t shift an inch.
“I can’t budge it,” she moaned. What should we do?”
“Maybe you can back the truck up—I’ve got a chain and winch—you can wrap it around the log and pull it off me.”
She looks at me with sudden admiration. “That’s a good idea. Hold on.”
She runs back to the truck and as she goes I admire her cute derriere and feel pretty good about myself and my suggestion.
Maybe I can rescue some of my pride and who knows—maybe I might ask her out. But, on the other hand, that’s not the way my luck’s been playing out in this burg….
I only hope we can get home before night falls
I hear the truck start up and hear the growl as she tromps the accelerator and breaks through the brush. She stops about two yards from me.
She loops the chain around the log, gets in the truck and inches forward till she feels resistance. She then gives it some gas.
The back wheels spin. She gasses it some more and they slip again and then bite. The truck lurches forward and the weight of the log comes off me.
“Okay,” I yell, “I’m free.”
She shuts off the motor and comes back and squats down to check my leg.
“Don’t move until I make sure it’s not broken.”
I let her play nurse and lean back and let the snowflakes melt on my eyelashes. I’m hearing funny whuffling noises from the woods around us.
“Looks okay,” she says, “But probably sprained. Be careful when you get up—try not to put too much weight upon it.”
I grab her arm. “Can you hear that noise—what is that?”
She listens and I watch her brow furrow and then her eyes go wide.
“We need to move fast.”
“What is it?” I demand.
“Coyotes—and they’re all around us. We’ve got to get inside the truck.”
A wave of panic rolls through me, but I numbly get to my feet as a shot of pain from my right leg almost causes me to faint.
“AHHH!” I bend my knee as much as I can to take the weight off and lean on her. She almost falls under my weight.
“Shut up!” she hisses in my ear. “Don’t excite them—they’re already calling to each other and surrounding us.”
“Great!” I hiss back, my teeth clenched and eyes closed.
We stumble the ten or twelve feet through the snow to the passenger door of the truck. She opens it and I realize I can’t get in.
“Lean forward on the seat and I’ll boost you.”
I obey and she gets her hands on my behind and pushes with all her strength.
The pain is blinding, but somehow I manage to wedge myself into a crouching position in the cab. It takes all my strength to maneuver my leg so she can shut the door.
She then runs around, climbs in the driver’s side and slams the door, just as three coyotes emerge from the pines beside us.
“Not a moment too soon,” I gasp..
She starts up the truck and gasses it. The tires spin. She tries again and the tires spin more.
“Just tromp it!” I order.
She stands on the accelerator and the truck slides sideways and I can feel it stuck in a rut.
“Okay! That’s enough," I sigh, "I guess we’re stuck.”
“I guess you don’t have snow tires,” she growls. “Do you have a phone?”
“Yeah—at home, charging.”
She pounds the steering wheel with her fist.
The coyotes howl, the snow covers the windshield and it starts to get dark.
“Just lovely,” She hisses angrily, not even looking at me.
Yep, this is a lovely mess I’ve gotten us into.