You ask how I know that she is “The Princess”? Let me explain.
This is what happened to me on the morning of July
16, 2001.
It was approximately 8:50 in the morning, I’m late for work, but who cares. My boss is on vacation, I’m gonna be all alone, it’s gonna be a great week. I’m in the left center lane of an eight lane highway called I-95/Rte.128 here in Massachusetts and while I won’t say I was speeding, I definitely wasn’t doing the speed limit.
So I’m cruising down the road and all of a sudden -BAM- the left front of the car drops down. I’ve had a blow out. Now morning rush hour on 128 is bad at best, because you have almost everybody doing 60 - 65 mph (and more) in a loose and disorganized formation. So the tire goes off and I’ve got to get off the road. There is no median on the left, but just up ahead on the right is a huge grass triangle for the next exit. And wonder of wonders, there’s nobody beside me and a big space behind me. So I’m able to cut across at 50 mph all 4 lanes of traffic - that’s three lanes and the breakdown lane which is often used here as an extra passing lane - and pull off onto the grass and way off the road. In fact, I’m so far off that I’m out of the way of the breakdown lane and even someone who’s trying to pass on the inside of the breakdown lane (it happens).
And I stop.
I get out. There’s the left front tire, completely separated from the rim. It looks like an attack ad on Firestone. These however came from a warehouse type store (I’d tell you it’s Costco, but I don’t want to use their name). First time I’ve had a problem with them, it’s been a decent tire, until now. But anyway, while I’m sitting there I think all right, not a problem, I’ll just change....damn... the spare.
I need to tell you about my car.
I drive a GMC Safari van. It’s a great car and I really like
it, but it does have a few little problems.
One: it uses those micro-spare tires.
That’s bad enough.
Two: it’s stored underneath the van.
I’ve gotten use to that, it’s not too bad, but
Three: the winch to get it down - well,
that’s the problem.
You have to open the back doors to get at the socket. The door handle
broke some time ago. These handles are made out of cast metal, not real
steel or aluminum. They break a lot. I’ve been using a pair of pliers to
open the door. But a couple of weeks ago, the little wire inside the door
that actually works the lock broke. This is my third Safari van and
in every single one of them that wire has broken. I think in this
one this is the second time, I’ll have to check my records. Since
I can’t open the back door, I can’t get at the spare tire.
So here I am with a blown tire on the side of the road. I’m going
nowhere in a hurry.
Did I mention I’m late for work?
It didn’t seem so important before but I also never went to check on the wastewater plant I operate yesterday, which I was supposed to. Visions of sewage running down the street begin to fill my head. I wonder how bad is this going to be? I look up and there goes the Samaritan van. You know, the guys that cruise up and down the highway with the HELP IS ON THE WAY sign painted on the side? Well it’s on the way to someone else. It’s not on the way to me. What’s even worse is that a few moments later I see him going north on the other side of the road so, whoever’s north of me in trouble, you have my fondest regards.
Now I’m just standing here watching the world go by wondering how long
is it going to be before a cruiser comes by?
How long?
15 minutes. That’d be too soon to expect salvation.
½ hr Wellllll,,,
They should be here soon.
45 minutes pass
Still no signs of help.
I look down on the ground and laying there only five or six feet away from me is a little stuffed doll. It’s a character from Maurice Sendak’s “Where the Wild Things Are”. I think Sarah would like that. Sarah’s my five year old daughter. Cute, smart, bullheaded, absolutely adorable in every way, but crafty, very crafty.
So I go over, pick it up, and brush it off. OK. I’ve done my good deed.
I toss it into the car and looking up at the sky say aloud, “All right.
I found the toy. It’s O.K. You can send help now.” Thirty seconds
later, I hear this ‘beep’ from behind me. I look over on the other
side - this is an entrance ramp/exit ramp triangle I’m in - and there is
a red car and inside it is a guy who runs a business a few buildings down
from the plant. He and I have been friendly.
“What’s wrong?” he calls, and I tell him.
So he pops the trunk and pulls out his micro-spare and says,
“Well, let’s see if the bolts line up.” We jack up the van and of
course, they don’t line up. But he said, “Not a problem.” We throw
my blown tire into his trunk he’s going to go down to the nearby
tire place and get me a new tire.
Now the curious part is the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be there. He runs a publishing company and he needed to get some paper. Normally he wouldn’t be going to get it, he has it all delivered, but his printer is rushing a job so he can go on vacation. Dick - that’s my friend, went to go get the truck, but it seems that both the trucks are gone. Apparently, his parents took them both to the Cape for the weekend and they haven’t come back. Now he has to go get the paper with his car. If he had taken one of the trucks he would have gone the back way, but since he took his car he used the highway. He explains to me, “I am the closest thing to an atheist there is, but there must be some kind of destiny involved with all this.”
So thanks to his printer wanting to go on vacation and his parent’s enjoying Cape Cod, I was rescued, or so he believes.
I am convinced that it is all so that Sarah gets this new doll.
I don’t know how she did it but you’ve got to hand it to her.
She’s good at getting what she wants. She would give Machiavelli a great
run for his money.
PS: 2 hours and 3 minutes after the tire blew
out I am back on the road with a new tire and a cold soda(Thanks Dick!). I have yet to see a police cruiser or rescue van.
2+3=5
Sarah’s powers are amazing!
And she loves the toy.
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