The Ice Follies

The last time I saw my car was on Monday. Since then, a series of higher temperatures had melted the mounds of snow that lined the streets. This was then followed by single-degree nights that froze over the run-off.

Ice had formed around the tires, trapping the rear-wheel machine. I tried in vain to ease out of the spot. My efforts worked only to draw a slew of elderly people from the retirement complex across the street. I used my crowbar to chip away at the sheet of ice that was, easily, three inches thick. I dismissed the coincidence and attempted to steer out, again. No dice.

At this point a young couple approached, “You’re us last night?” Had it not been for the help of two good Samaritans the night before, their car would still be trapped in it’s icy grave. They were eager to help someone in the same situation. With Kate behind the wheel, Jack and I pushed from all angles. The crowd of elderly had grown. They took up the entire sidewalk in front of their complex. Statements such as, “Vat do zey thinks zey are doing?” could be heard through the scattered laughing. Finally, the car was free from the icy trenches. However, it was now on the sidewalk. Kate stepped out of the car, allowing me to steer the Hydra onto the street. The surface was too slick, forcing the car to fishtail.

From behind the masses, an old Russian man emerged. “Ought! Ought!” He approached the vehicle. He was wearing a matching coat and hat; made from the fur of a black bear he most likely killed. A lit cigarette clung to his lip, manipulating his verbiage. He was utterly confident. I stepped out of the vehicle and let the Crazed Russian in. I shot Kate and Jack a “what’s the worst he can do”-glance. His confidence began to wane when he tried to figure out how to get the car in drive. I thought to the Seinfeld where George lets who he thinks to be a seasoned mechanic work on his car, discovering too late the man is senile. What if this man had his license revoked and saw a chance to sit behind a wheel for the first time in decades?

The thought hadn’t even finished processing before the Hydra was on the street, free.

I thanked them. I thanked them to the point of discomfort.

I wouldn’t have stopped to help me.