This post is in response to Jerry Banfield's Supernatural Writing Contest. It is the first of three such stories that came immediately to mind.
It wasn't my first car, but the little powder blue Dodge Colt was the first one with only my name on the title and I had had it only six weeks. A little standard shift hatchback, it got great gas mileage and was easy to maneuver in traffic.
On the Thursday in question, I had agreed to drive up from Orange County to go to a movie and stay overnight with a friend. Lisa was planning to leave LA within the week and we wanted to have some fun together before she left.
I arrived in the city around 6PM, during the worst part of commuter traffic. I was about to circle her block, off Olympic Boulevard, for the fourth time when I saw it. An actual open spot right across from her apartment complex!
I slammed on my hazard flashers, tapped the brakes to warn the oncoming deluge of traffic that I was going to attempt the feat of parallel parking on a busy thoroughfare in mid-commute in the dark, and proceeded to jockey the little hatchback into the available space.
At first, I thought it must be a hidden ramp or No Parking zone, because how could a space this size possibly be available and HERE? An obviously larger vehicle had just exited this spot as there was plenty of room for me to slide in. I parked, double-checked the parking brake, the steering wheel lock, the locks on the doors, lowered the antenna and basically stowed the car for the night. I was sure Lisa would drive us to the movies because she had assigned underground parking beneath the building. The spot was guaranteed to be there when we returned in the wee hours after our meal and movie.
I walked up to the apartment and forgot about my car as we shared vegetarian pizza, a bit of leftover Indian food and chai. Lisa was excited about her upcoming trip and wanted to hear all about my new programming job, so we quickly lost track of the time. At half past nine, she bounced up from where she had been curled on the floor.
"We'll miss the last show!" she exclaimed, scooping up the remains of our feast and piling it onto the kitchen counter. "Oh, and would you mind driving? The back of my is already packed and I don't want to leave it in a public lot...
Grimacing, I agreed, thinking of my perfect-stroke-of-luck parking spot and the fact that it was pretty much a given that that kind of luck couldn't happen twice. I hesitated at the door, telling Lisa that I had actually found a spot out on Olympic and didn't want to move the car. She insisted that her car was too full and that even the back seat was loaded so there wouldn't be room for our other friend, Kelly, who had shown up to wish Lisa goodbye an hour or so earlier.
As I reluctantly agreed, I felt funny about the whole thing. Something was 'off' or wrong and I knew I shouldn't move the car. I was familiar enough with this feeling to know this was a bad idea. But it was my friend's last night in town and I wanted to treat her. So we jay-walked across Olympic, still busy at almost ten, piled in and I started the engine.
I reversed a bit to get into position to pull out, and as I put the car into first gear, I felt it. A flash of light and the word "NO!" shot straight through me. Something slammed my left foot onto the brake instead of the clutch and lifted my right foot from the gas pedal. The car lurched and stalled, stopped in its tracks.
Two seconds later, a wildly careening beat-up pickup truck fish-tailed into my left front fender. It hit and kept right on rolling, fishtailing all over the road. If I had pulled out into traffic, the pickup would have hit my door, it's rear bumper roughly even with window. I could have died then and there.
A bit in shock, I fumbled as to what to do. "Start the car! Chase the bastard!" Lisa was yelling. I didn't think and it must have taken only a second or two, because there we were, racing up Olympic to the closest freeway ramp where the pickup had just turned off and disappeared.
The '10' has traffic at any hour and this was no exception. It took a few seconds to negotiate the ramp and enter the stream of traffic and by that time the dented, brown and white perpetrator was long gone. My car was off balance, and the front fender felt strange. I couldn't hear anything dragging but thought I should pull off just the same. In my shock, it hadn't occurred to me to check to see if the car was even driveable after the hit!
I pulled into the parking lot of a nearby strip mall, sliding into an open space next to one of our favorite late night snack places... they always had green cheese enchiladas. I was hoping to use the phone to report the incident, this being before cell phones were in general use. But the place had closed at ten and the staff were obviously in a hurry to leave. No lights. No other cars.
I got out to assess the damange and, sure enough, my almost-new urethane bumper was smashed, its left front corner hanging off by a thread. The fender was indeed dented in, but the wheel well seemed ok. So, drivable, but no longer my 'new' vehicle. I wondered what to do about the bumper when, across the parking lot, striding purposefully, came a long-haired bearded guy with a tool bag over his shoulder.
"Hi," he began. "I'm a sound engineer over there," her gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "It looks like you have a problem." When I agreed he asked if he could take a look. Then, without hesitation, he slid under the front end, pulled some wire from his tool bag and proceeded to wire the bumper into place.
He asked me to open the hood, which I did, and told me he didn't have the right tools to pound out the dent, but that there was nothing wrong that would prevent me driving the car. With that, he rubbed his hands together, looked off over my shoulder and said "Oh, there's my ride." Without waiting for an answer or my thanks, he hopped into the waiting car and disappeared.
"Wow," said Kelly in a hushed whisper. Then she began to laugh. "I'm going to hang out with you more often. You're SURROUNDED by angels!"
I know that's true for all of us, if we listen and choose to believe.
