Wednesday, December 20, 2017

AN INTERESTING INTERSECTION (to say the least). Pts. 1-4


I pedal

I pedal a lot

I pedal in the wee hours of the morning

And during the course of almost 5 years, and over 12,000 miles of pedaling the same 10 mile course, I’ve “run into” some pretty strange scenarios; all within a hundred feet of a nearby intersection.

A woman standing next to the highway, in the shrubbery of a bank, holding a small terrier, and singing the most eerie tune that’s ever been sung. (Needless to say, I keep pedaling).

Speaking of four-footed beasts of the canine variety, a miniature, emaciated Doberman tied to a lamppost next to the highway. It goes without saying, I cannot leave her there, but take her home, feed her, and quickly dispatch the precious pooch to a no-kill shelter.

A young man with a cane standing at the busy intersection. Approaching him he asks if I can direct him to a particular part of town. Johnny (for that is his name) tells me that he has been walking for five (5) hours; having been released earlier that evening from the county jail.

Making a calculated decision I suggest he keep walking. I will finish pedaling home, retrieve my car, and drive him the remaining couple of miles to his home. (That I am writing this story and have suffered no harm or alarm speaks for itself).

And then tonight''

Perhaps the most bizarre scenario of all.

Pt. 2

I have just crossed over one of several four lane highways which exist on my measured pathway, and mounted the next sidewalk; for I only pedal on sidewalks. Safer, don’t ya know? (Ironic, I suppose, given this strange series of stories).

I hear it before I see it. Some muted, unidentified protestations. I turn my gaze in a diagonal direction. And oddly enough, as it seems now, on the exact same corner where I encountered ‘Jailhouse Johnny’ are a large black SUV, and a late model semi-truck cab. Parked at a traffic light, I notice the driver of the SUV is standing just behind his vehicle, while the driver of the larger truck is engaged in a struggle with what appears to be an adult female.

I think none of us know exactly how we will respond to a seeming emergency until it “drops from the sky” and figuratively exclaims, “Here I am.” Oh, we can imagine what we’d do, but “the proof is (definitely) in the pudding.”

I do not hesitate

It occurred to me at that moment that I was willing to do whatever I had to do to rescue the apparent “damsel in distress.” At the moment, at least, I had no consideration whatever of the presence of firearms, or taking on two ‘bad boys’ at a time, (or the fact that I am approaching 70 years of age).

I immediately begin peddling my speedy (well, not so much) bike towards what appears to be the scene of a crime. As I pedal I attempt to “get the mark” of the situation unraveling before me. It seems a woman is being dragged into the driver’s side of the cab, as if the offender intends to take her against her will.

Twenty feet from the truck now, and the young (or not so much) lady is being pulled (or clamoring) over the legs of the driver and into a jump or bench seat to his right.

Pt. 3

Ten feet from my goal now, and the driver’s door slams shut. I peer into the poorly lit cab and it seems the driver and potential detainee are still, and awaiting the decision of the other vehicle. The man walks to the driver’s side of his car, gets in, makes a 90 degree turn, and the semi-cab follows suite. I watch the two vehicles as they accelerate, and eventually disappear out of sight.

As ‘Mrs. Fairfax’ (re. the novel, ‘Jane Eyre’) was heard to say,

“What to do? What to do?"

I reach into my pocket and consider the possibility of dialing 911. And yet. Wasn’t the woman ‘cool, calm and collected’ as the door slammed shut in my face? And didn’t the driver of the other vehicle casually stroll to his car, as though nothing was amiss?

I consider an alternative possibility

Perhaps the three individuals knew one another. Perhaps the driver of the first vehicle stopped at the light to allow the woman to ride in the second. Perhaps she and the pilot of the second were a bit ‘tanked’ and simply engaging in some raucous revelry. And rather than using the passenger door, she chose to enroll herself in the cab the hard way.

I delay. I debate. I deliberate. (All those ‘D’ words).

I desist

Approximately three minutes elapse and I hear it before I see it.

(Rather familiar, don’t you think)?

A sheriff’s department cruiser comes sailing down the highway at break-neck speed, its red and blue lights flashing, and its siren screaming.

I can only surmise, having witnessed the unusual scenario unfolding before him or her, a witness retrieved his or her phone and made the call.

Pt. 4

My brother is, himself, a long haul truck driver, and I often give him a ring as he is on his way to Miami and I am completing my ‘O-dark-thirty’ trek. This morning my routine was the same, though the story I shared with him was anything but routine.

Wayne, being a man of few words, generally allows me to do most of the talking. However, having heard my fateful tale, he responded with,

“Maybe you should ride in the daylight, rather than the dark!”

I responded with,

“Very wise advice. Maybe you’re right!”

There’s a scene in the movie, “The Karate Kid” in which ‘Daniel-son’ interacts with an Okinawan bully.

Our hero speaks.

“Hey man. I’m not looking for trouble!”

To which the local thug responds,

“Maybe twouble lookin’ for you!”

I can relate

As a freshman in high school I learned an old Irish prayer. It seems rather fitting here:

"From ghoulies, and ghosties, and long-legged beasties, and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us."

Perhaps, however, the latest event to which I was exposed at that intersection “broke the curse.”

Afterward

This time around, I happened to be in my car, and had pulled up at the red light. As I sat gazing across the intersection a couple of late model vehicles came to a halt.

Suddenly, a man jumped out of the driver’s seat of one car, and a woman bailed out of the driver’s seat of the other automobile. Walking quickly towards one another, they embraced and kissed; passionately, I might say.

And, as quickly as they had exited their respective transports, they reassumed their respective places behind their respective steering wheels, the light turned green, they proceeded across the intersection in my direction, and continued on their merry way down the road.

I can only wonder whether what transpired was that couple’s version of a premeditated stunt, or whether one or the other of them was leaving the country for an extended visit overseas, or for that matter whether they never expected to see one another again.

I suppose I will be left wondering what I had seen transpire before me that day.

I suppose I will remain perplexed about the strange events which I have shared with you today.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 75. Copyright pending


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