The Good Samaritan goes to Town

It all started with a simple but dreaded question:

"Can you do me a favor?"

Ryan stops his hobbling trek across the living room as I pass inociently by on the way back to my room to return to accounting for a royal Erish wedding. I grimace but it's gone by the time I turn around. "What?"

"Can you go get my a Gatorade? I got way overheated out mowing with Jordan."

Crap. That requires driving. And going outside which lately makes it really hard for me to breath. Plus I'm wearing a skirt with tennis shoes and a t-shirt that are good for being sick around the house but not so great to be seen in public. I have no make up, my hair was brushed this morning but could stand another run through and I generally look as crappy as I feel. But it doesn't take that long to run to a gas station.

I heave a big sigh but put my big-girl face on. "I guess."

Before I got out the door, it turned into a get a pizza while you're out since we're both hungry. Since I had been nosing about the kitchen, I couldn't deny it. I troop out to my car which does it's normal protest of not wanting to start. On the third try, it sputters. I'm pretty sure my car hates driving as much as I do.

I take my foot off the break and it begins backing on it's own - faster than it's normal pace. But when I hit the gas... nothing happens. It's going five miles an hour with it all the way down. I turn on the block away from my intended direction to see if it'll smooth out. It gains speed, going in bursts, not wanting to stop and then sluggishly protesting to go.

I take it around the block and repark it. Can't go. I'll have to find food here and Ryan will have to live without. So I go inside and Ryan asks if I can take Dad's car. I refuse because I feel like I'm gonna crash that car every time I drive it. So he goes down and get's grandma's keys and an order for a second pizza. After sorting out the money from Ryan from the money from pop from my money in my wallet, I go down to grandma's car. Which I can't get the seat to go forward. It's one of those, can't reach the gas pedal days when you feel like you got trapped in a video game where random people shoot from buildings and other cars try to run you over. My perception is off, making things even harder. So I go between imagining Andrew's first meeting on the streets of New York where the fastest car is a total of 30 mph, to complaining to the dashboard how much I hate driving.

I get to the pizza place, heading inside, ordering two pizza's then frowning as I look through my wallet. Ryan gave me a twenty and I have fifty 1.00 bills. Not really what I feel like paying with. I remember I stuck the other money in the back, so I pull it out and pay. Then go back to thinking about Andrew who's not nearly as bothered by cars or people or being poor and looking ragged as I am.

I spot a gas station that is easy to get to and will put me on the back roads to get home and pull in, searching for a place to park. I find one behind the store where the wind is blocked and the wall blows out hot air into the already sweltering weather. I go in, get the gatorade that started it all and the man points out there's a two for one special. So I get another. Ryan won't mind having two and he already said I could get one for myself. Which is funny because yesterday I was DYING to have one but waaaay too sick to go anywhere and I didn't want to ask anyone or inconvience them.

So I went without.

I leave the gas station and get back in the car, putting the drinks by the pizza, the key in the ignition and...

It sputters.

Great. I take a breath and try it again. It sputters - only less this time than last.

"Really? Really???"
I'm almost home. Almost done with this mission I never wanted to do in the first place.

It gives a pathetic attempt and gives up.

I look at the sky. "Please God. Heal this car. I need it to work."

This time it hardly responds at all.

I laugh hopelessly, then head back into the nice man at the station. See, the other part of this story started at 7:00 this morning when my phone buzzed and informed me that because of a low balance my service is being cut off. Apparently whatever credit card my parents had it on has expired or something. But they didn't answer their phone so I don't have mine.

The Valero man explains their phone is tied in and there are no payphones. I ask if there's anywhere nearby that has one.

"H.E.B."

"Thanks." I step out and look around. H.E.B isn't nearby. And it's hot. And I can't breath outside in the first place.

I go back to the car, say another prayer and try it. In this case, praying is about as helpful as cussing. I go across the street to search out H.E.B. I'm only about 7-10 miles from the house. If I eat some of that pizza, I might have a chance to make it to H.E.B.... Wherever that is.

A lady comes out in a suit who looks like she might have a cell phone on her and be willing to help the little creature in the parkinglot out. She says there's one in the building and points to the funiture store. I go there, pull on the door and nothing happens.

Maybe they're closing. Maybe she thought I was going to hold her at gunpoint. Maybe it's the other door. I try the second door and she rolls down her window, pointing to the first. I try it again. Nothing happens. She makes jerking movements and I yank on it. It opens and cool air hits my face. Inside there's a man in front of the counter and a man behind.

I ask if I can use the phone, trying to remember my grandmother's number. For some reason the middle part always jumbles in my brain. It takes me about three tries before the call goes through because I hit the wrong button or it went through twice instead of once. I finally ask for the area code because I'm not sure I'm getting it right anyway. But I am and the phone rings and rings until the friendly man that always answers on the machine informs me no one is available to take my call.

"Hi guys. It's Lindsey. I'm broken down at the Valero across from the theater. If someone can come get me, that would be great..."

I hang up and thank the man who looks worried at the flustered little vegabond before him. "They never answer," I say. "They'll come."

Then head back out to the hot car. Where "Everything happens for a reason" pops into my head. But I'm pretty sure this isn't a devine appointment as much as somebody didn't do something right with the car reaction. It's hot. I munch pizza that doesn't taste good.

Then go to the front of the station so they can see me.

What if they didn't hear? What if Grandma's still downstairs and Ryan's in his room and Pop's asleep....

Minutes tick by. I get tired of hanging around the front corner of the store and head back to the car. It's hot. Especially back where I parked. I eat some more pizza so I'll stop shaking. It still doesn't taste good.

Then turn on the radio to try and calm myself. It's some dude singing about what he's going to do to me once he gets me on the floor and I flick it off. I'm standing on street corners here. I don't need any reminders.

I go back to the front until I get tired of looking like a flustered Pentecostal who forgot to brush her hair and only owns one pair of shoes. And the gas fumes make it hard to breath. What if I have an astma attack on top of this?

I go back to the car and flip through the stations. I'm about to flick it off again when I hear a phone ring. It seems a weird place for a cermercial but there's no phones in...

It rings again and something glows from the middle of the car. I pull it out to see "Home" flashing on my grandpa's cell phone.

I laugh in this exasperated, "you've got to be joking" way. I pick it up and Ryan tells me Grandpa's coming in Dad's car.

So I go back to the front where he can see me and stand for what feels at least ten minutes. I call back to make sure he knows where the place is and Grandma says he just left because he couldn't find keys or - something.

So I wait and wait and return to the car. He shows up, my knight in shining armor. There's no jumper cable in the trunk. He explains he looked in all the other cars at home (except mine because he didn't have a key to my trunk - which is where one is). So we go to the Sugar Shack and steal one of Rocky's. Only it still won't start because the cable is shot. So we go back to the sugar shack, drop off his keys. I decide Ryan's only getting one Gatorade and start drinking the other.

And my brother calls me as we pull into the drive to ask how it's going. I answer I'm in the front yard and he hangs up. Pop grins. "He just wants to know where the pizza is."

I smirk. "I thought of that already. I figured even if you didn't hear the machine somebody would notice I was gone because they'd be hungry." I just wasn't sure how they'd find me at the Valaro.

So I meet my brother at the top of the stairs who says he's "SOOO sorry all that happened." And receives a dry, 'Yeah me too," and cold pizza.

So now I have a half-drunk Gatorade beside me, my poor grandfather is out in the sweltering heat trying to get "the good" car going. Oh well. At least I don't have rehearsal tonight.