Bringing Home The Medicine (part two)
What happened then is extraordinary - not miraculous, but indeed -
extraordinary! If I had not been there myself, and experienced it all first hand, I
would not have believed half of it. For a few fleeting moments that night the
angel of death hovered around us. He was expecting a good business, no doubt
- but he was cheated on my account - for a time. Looking back, the exact
sequence of events for those hell-acious minutes play out in my mind like a vivid,
well organized, and professional movie stunt. It is regrettable that no one was
there with a video cam to record the action - those images would be priceless!
The medicine horse and I both reacted to the scream instantly and
simultaneously. Which almost got me killed.
I started to lunge toward the ditch still clutching the lead rope. With his powerful
hindquarters on the ground, the horse lunged in the same direction much faster
and quicker, snatching me up, and with him - but I let go of the rope.
I landed face first in a large mound of Friggin fire ants. Immediately I was on my
feet stepping backwards, spitting dirt and ants, and wiping the stinging little
bastards off my face with my hands.
At that very instant a four-wheeler (car) came swooshing through the grass, ass
backwards, running over and bending down the metal post of the nine mile stick
directly beside the ant hill - mere inches from where I stood - EXACTLY were
my head had been.
The rear end of the car stuck in the mud at the bottom of the embankment with
its headlights shining on me.
I snatched off my shirt and wiped the vicious bugs from my face and neck as
best I could, and flung the ant covered shirt into the grass.
Looking around for Patti and Medicine, I saw her -- but not the horse. The tell-
tale flashlight was bobbing up and down as she ran along the fence line toward
the stuck car. I could smell gas fumes.
'HOLLY SHIT!'
The driver was racing the motor trying to pull the car out, but it was useless. All
he was doing was throwing rooster tails of muddy water high into the air. That
old Mercedes wasn't moving - not out of the ditch anyway. The hood with its
proud emblem would rear up each time he gunned it - but he was just digging a
deeper and muddier hole. Smoke, or steam, or both, began to billow around the
hood.
I waved both my arms in the air jumping up and down and yelling at the idiot to
shut it OFF! He must have read my lips in his head lights and he finally killed the
engine.
I yelled at Pattie,
"Where the hell is that horse?"
"He went south!"
She yelled back, just as she got to the car.
I screamed at her.
"GET YOUR ASS BACK UP THAT FENCE LINE NOW! THAT CAR IS LEAKING
GAS!"
She turned around and started trotting back the way she came. I continued
screaming at the top of my lungs,
"RUN GODDAMMIT! AND DON'T STOP!"
The people in the car heard also and both doors were opening.
I ran to the open door of my truck and snatched the cell phone off the dash. The
headset was attached to the phone so I put it on. Single piece over the head
speaker in right ear, mic on left side of face. I grabbed my Florida Marlins
baseball cap off the dash and put it on (as always) to hold it in place (it works
great). I punched in 911.
The antenna icon was flashing 'searching for service'. I clipped the phone on my
belt - I was wired and ready.
I could still feel fire ants stinging the back of my neck so I grabbed my pissy pink
shirt from the seat and wiped myself off again and threw the stinking shirt to the
ground as I hot-footed it down the slope in front of the stuck car, heading for the
ditch and twelve foot high 'deer-proof' fence beyond.
I listened for a dial tone expectantly.
I could see two people, a man and women, getting out of the car. The woman
was topless, clutching what looked like a small piece of cloth to her bouncing
bosom, her hair was wild and frizzy - and he was zipping up his pants. I could
see them both fairly well in the open door lights on opposite sides of the car.
'Jesus flippin Christ! - THATS why they friggin ran off the friggin road!'
I tried to stop quick, but skated on the wet grass right up to the ditch on her side
of the car, yelling at them,
"YOU LOVE BIRDS BETTER HEAD FOR THAT LIGHT UP THE FENCE -
FAST!"
They didn't hesitate but both started scrambling to get out of the ditch. He didn't
wait on her - not even half a second - and quickly left her, without a word or
backward glance.
She slipped and fell. Then she crawled on hands and knees out of the ditch.
Sobbing and filthy with mud, she finally managed to stand up. But then she
slipped and almost fell again, while turning around. Then she managed to catch
her balance by holding her arms out and arching her back like you see ballerinas
on ice do.
Her breasts were gorgeous, brown and muddy, firm and lovely. But, they were
going to be toasted to shit if she did not get her ass in gear and get the hell out
of there.
I needed to scream and run at the same time. I seemed to be frozen in
agonized astonishment -- astonishment, because he had left her like that, and
agonized, because she could not, would not, get moving! She looked at the
murky water and cried,
"Mi blouse - OH! - GOD! - MI BLOUSE!"
The phone chirped once. Then nothing - no tone - nothing. I snatched it off my
belt and looked at the lit face. 'Dropped call' It read in flashing florescent green!
'Crappy ass phone'
BUT, it had startled me back into action.
"SHIT LADY!"
I shouted in frustration and stuck the phone back on my belt. I looked around for
my pink shirt. It was laying in the glare of the headlights a couple feet behind
me. I went and snatched it up
(not quite cussing but getting close - I try not to cuss often, but sometimes the
situation calls, and even then I try to tone it down around the ladies, until they
really piss me off)
then quickly got back to the ditch and stuck the shirt into the muddy water with
both hands.
"HOT-DAMN, MOTHER-FLIPPIN, SILLY-ASS, WOMEN!"
Jerking it up, I wrung it and shook it out hard! She watched me with ignorant
fascination as I wadded up the wet shirt and sniffed it for a gas smell. It smelled
just like muddy ditch water and piss.
'Good - no time to check for ants.'
I pitched the stinky shirt to her across the ditch. She caught it and clutched it too
her ample breast. Her dark face lit up in a big smile, I could see her gleaming
white teeth.
"Gracious Senior"
She said in a smooth, sexy, Hispanic voice.
The smell of gasoline was stronger. I looked at the glow of the open door light
on the murky water and could see an obvious oil slick forming. More smoke was
billowing from the hood. It was certainly smoke. I could smell electrical wires
smoldering -
"CRAP LADY! GO! - catch your sorry ass boyfriend! RUN! FAST!"
"BOY FRIEND NO!"
She hissed,
"HUSBAND - BASTARD - COWARD!"
She spit the words out like curses and just stood there.
"Damn it to hell! OK! - SHIT! Then come with me - NOW!"
I jerked the phone off my belt and punched 'redial' - that time I heard a dial tone
almost immediately. I had it back on my belt and was jumping the muddy ditch,
when a professional sounding woman answered,
"Camden county emergency, give me your location please."
I spook loudly but plainly to the dispatcher emphasizing every word, while trotting
down the fence line with the lovely, half naked women-stranger, right behind me.
"NINE MILE MARKER -- SOUTH BOUND I-95 -- CAR IN THE DITCH --
BUSTED GAS TANK -- TRUCK AND HORSE TRAILER -- BROKE DOWN --
HORSE LOOSE -- HEADING SOUTH -- CHASING HORSE -- ON FOOT --
SEND FIRE TRUCK! -- MEAT WAGON -- COPS -- SHIT LADY -- SEND ME --
THE FLIPPIN -- MARINES -- NOW!"
I didn't get her response. The phone chirped again as it dropped the call.
'Technologies great ain't it - when it friggin works'
I picked up the pace, running and searching the darkness, hoping for a glimpse
of Medicine Man's white face or his big white spots.
'God don't let him get near that damn road!'
I heard her fall and hit the ground with a thump and groan behind me. She was
laying on her belly, sobbing again, with her bare feet in the air. Her shoes were
back there in the mud - spike heels no doubt. The problem was her too tight
mini skirt. Kneeling beside her I ordered her to lie still. I unzipped her skirt,
grabbed both sides of the waist band and riped it off of her ass. At least she
had on underwear, but no pantie hose. Then I jerked her up by the arm.
"Keep running dammit!"
I hissed in her ear - and we took off again. With her legs free to run, she stayed
on my heels.
We hadn't gone far at all, just far enough to save our lives, when a huge
explosion riped the night.
We both turned in horror as a huge fireball rose up over the interstate highway
just beyond where my truck and trailer was parked. It illuminated everything for
half a mile - including us. Almost Immediately a hurricane force wind hit us. She
tumbled into my arms and I twisted and staggered around but didn't fall as we
were stung by tiny debris in the vicious wind. As quick as it came it was gone.
'Blast wave - that was a fucking bomb!'
There was a eerie rumbling, roaring sound just like the Titanic going down. (I've
seen the movie).
Looking back, I could see clearly. A tanker with no rear tandems was sliding, its
rear end coming around, spewing out flames like a huge ground rocket blow
torch.
My horse trailer and pick-up were immediately engulfed in the flames. A line of
fire shot through the grass into the ditch and the Mercedes irrupted.
The tank rolled, and exploded again at the front just as the tractor of the rig
broke loose and careened toward the median like a kicked Tonka toy. It
tumbled crazily all the way across. Mangled and half crushed, it came to rest on
its wheels in the middle of the north bound lanes with its tandem tires in flames.
Everything over there came to a screeching halt, with the repetitious popping
sound of crunching bumpers. Hundreds of eyes were filled with real shock and
awe. People who could, began to get out of their vehicles. There was
screaming and yelling and general chaos -- mingled with the unique sound of
roaring flames. Hell fire and damnation that wasn't a dream.
The last vehicle south bond was a big truck. It slowed to a stop a little past
where we were standing and the air brakes came on with a loud swoosh. In a
moment the driver was running back up the empty highway and across the
median toward the mangled tractor. Others were ahead of him and they were
dragging the driver out. His door was gone and they managed to get him away
before his fuel tanks were aflame - lucky for them all, diesel don't explode - but it
burns like hell once ignited.
Three bond fires lite the night. A huge one right where I and Medicine and Patti
had been - only moments ago.
'Hell I hope she ran all the way to Woodbine - and maybe Medicine stayed on
the fence to exit seven. Theres a lot of woods on that side of the highway, but
he'll be fine in the woods - and I'll find him.'
I watched my rig literally melting away in the flames and thought about the crap
hidden in the feed barrel.
"HOLY -- MOTHER -- OF -- SHIT! ONE HUNDRED -- THOUSAND -- FLIPPIN
DOLLARS -- OF SHIT! AND IT AIN'T MY SHIT! SOMEBODIES GONNA PAY
FOR THAT SHIT! OH SHIT!"
I suddenly realized I was screaming. I shut up and turned my face to her. I was
still clutching her in my arms, but she was starring in shock at the unbelievable
mess. I released her and she started stumbling toward the carnage mumbling
something in Spanish. I grabbed her arm.
"WHOA - where the hell you going! I think you need to stay here. Shit - just
look at you - nearly naked and bare footed!"
She came out of her daze and laughed suddenly,
"HA - HA! Thanks to you! - mi amigo, I am nearly naked - but alive - Si!"
'God she sounded just like my wife'
For the first time I could really see her face. She was beautiful in the raging fire
light. Her dark eyes reflected the flames. Her black hair looked even more wild
and crazy. She was still clutching my dirty pink shirt to her breast. There was
mud on her face, neck and shoulders. She wore dark red panties with white
lacy stitching (Fredericks, of course) and her knees, legs and feet were all
scratched up and bleeding. She was streaked all over her body and face from
sweat and tears and muddy water. She was young - but not too young - over
twenty five anyway. About one hundred and fifteen pounds, I estimated.
She looked at me with question marks in her eyes (or maybe I imagined them)
and said calmly,
"You have insurance - no - they buy you new truck - Si - no problemo."
I just starred at her. I was momentarily speechless - and suddenly exhausted. I
knew she must be too. I sighed heavily,
"Why don't you put on the damn shirt?"
"Oh!"
She exclaimed,
"I did - but something bite me - so I took it off again - quick!"
I took the shirt from her and shook it out again trying to avert my eyes. She held
her hands over the nipples of her breast and smiled shyly (or maybe I imagined
the shyness),
"Here - hold it up and I'll check it."
Using the light from the cell phone I found several of the little bastards clinking to
the fabric and squished them with my thumb and finger and rubbed them off on
my pants leg.
"OK - no more bugs."
I announced, and she quickly slipped into the shirt and buttoned it. It was filthy,
but it covered her, hanging loosely, well below her butt. Except that her dark
nipples were still obvious under the wet pink. She was about 5 foot and maybe
5 inches tall - I figured.
It was quieter then. The roaring of the flames was lessoning. We could hear
sirens wailing in the distance There was no south bound traffic at all and the
north bound side was literally a bumper to bumper parking lot. Crickets and
frogs where singing loud. There must have been a regular afternoon down power
earlier that evening. The grassy ditches were full and the woods on the other
side of the fence were still dripping rain water. It was extremely hot and humid -
normal July weather for south Georgia and north Florida.
We were starring at each other when the phone rang and the 'Ode to Joy' ring
tone startled us both. I took the phone off my belt and unplugged the wire and
took off the cap and head set. Lifting the phone to my throbbing face and smiling
at my new friend, I answered cheerfully.
"Hell fire central."
There was a slight pause, then the same professional female voice as before
responded without a chuckle.
"Are you injured sir?"
"No - not really - scratches, bruises and ant bites - thats all. There was a - huge
explosion - crash and_"
She interupted,
"We have several calls sir - and a good fix on your location - everybody's on the
way -- everybody but the flippin marines."
That time she did chuckle.
"You probably ought to send them too Honey - or at least homeland security -
there was a bomb - for real!"
Another slight pause before she responded,
"Our caller ID says Everett Hemingway - are you Mr. Hemingway?"
"That's me, Everett Hemingway, and I would love to chat, but I need to go horse
hunting right now, and here is someone you can talk to - her name is __"
"Marcia - Marcia Cordoba"
The beauty smiled at me when she gave her name. I obviously flinched when
she said it.
'Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't believe in fucking coincidences. Cordoba was
the name of the Cuban cut throat who owned the shit that had just been
cremated - completely I hoped - but oh the wonders of modern forensic
science. But, it was too late to worry about it then'
Sirens were getting louder from the south as I put the cell phone into the lovely
Marcia's hand.
"Here - talk to this nice lady - I got to find my horse."
"Wait! Ev-a- Ev-err-it?"
She said uncertainly in her too sexy voice. Holding the cell out with her left hand
she reached up with her right and gently touched my cheek with her fingers, and
held them there. Her touch felt like cold fire, icy-hot! Our eyes locked for a long
moment - then she studied my face intently for another moment - then she said
sweetly, softly,
"This face - it is good face - it is swollen - red - covered with bloody scratches
and ugly bumps - but this face - is beautiful face - I kiss this face - now!"
And so she did. Her hand on the back of my head pulling it down! It would have
been a long, wet, passionate kiss -- full on my aching lips. But, I straitened up
quick and grabbed her shoulders tight and shook her hard. Her head bobbed
back and forth like a rag doll as she opened her eyes in total surprise. I spit my
words at her,
"Dammit girl! Just a few minutes ago you were giving your flippin husband a
flippin blow job!"
She laughed!
"HA, HA! But I didn't!"
Holding her hand in front of my face, wiggling her fingers and giggling vivaciously
she said,
"NO - hand job only."
"SHIT! LIKE I REALLY FUCKING BELIEVE THAT!"
She shrugged her shoulders, and flashing me that smile, she said defiantly, in a
matter-of-fact tone,
"Believe it - or no believe it - it is true. But - thank you again - mi amigo."
"What the hell for?"
I snapped at her.
"For saving mi beautiful fucking life."
She whispered flatly - and it sounded so damn sad.
Police cruisers, ambulances and fire trucks were arriving fast. Bright search
lights where scanning everywhere. One caught her face and held on her. She
lifted her arm with the cell phone still in her hand to shield her eyes from the
intense glare. Two choppers where coming in also and circling the whole area,
their search and landing lights turned the night into day.
Impulsively I grabbed her free hand and pulled her to me. Looking her straight in
the eye, I said,
"It has been an extreme pleasure to make your acquaintance - Marcia Cordoba
belle la Donna."
Then I kissed her hard on the lips, for about ten seconds, before turning around
abruptly, and trotting south to continue my search.
'Jesus - Sweet Jesus! - what the flip is going to flip up next? - I can't believe I
kissed her on the flippin mouth! - hand job my ass! - Marcia Cordoba? Marcia
Cordoba? - hell yes theres a friggin connection! - she's Cuban ain't she! - but
thats her married name - maybe? - maybe not? - shit double shit!'
My mind was racing, searching, figuring - while I ran through the wet grass in the
hot, humid subtropical night, looking for the missing Medicine Horse and
wondering how in the hell I was going to get him to Florida - and my ass out of a
sling!
Too be continued, next blog.
Thursday July 20, 2006 - 07:44pm (EDT)
Previous Post: Bringing Home The Medicine (part one)
Comments(2 total) Post a Comment♥♥♥♥... Offline IM OMG YOU FOUND
TIME TO WRITE TODAY HUH..wow now for me to be able to read this..think i
wil print it out then read it in the sun ok love u hugs tight NENA CANDYEYEZ
Saturday July 22, 2006 - 01:21am (PDT)
Step... Offline IM LOL...well Honey, it took me seven days to write part two...
so take your time...and don't forget to read part one. LOVE YOU HUMCHI~
Saturday July 22, 2006 - 01:09pm (EDT)
What happened then is extraordinary - not miraculous, but indeed -
extraordinary! If I had not been there myself, and experienced it all first hand, I
would not have believed half of it. For a few fleeting moments that night the
angel of death hovered around us. He was expecting a good business, no doubt
- but he was cheated on my account - for a time. Looking back, the exact
sequence of events for those hell-acious minutes play out in my mind like a vivid,
well organized, and professional movie stunt. It is regrettable that no one was
there with a video cam to record the action - those images would be priceless!
The medicine horse and I both reacted to the scream instantly and
simultaneously. Which almost got me killed.
I started to lunge toward the ditch still clutching the lead rope. With his powerful
hindquarters on the ground, the horse lunged in the same direction much faster
and quicker, snatching me up, and with him - but I let go of the rope.
I landed face first in a large mound of Friggin fire ants. Immediately I was on my
feet stepping backwards, spitting dirt and ants, and wiping the stinging little
bastards off my face with my hands.
At that very instant a four-wheeler (car) came swooshing through the grass, ass
backwards, running over and bending down the metal post of the nine mile stick
directly beside the ant hill - mere inches from where I stood - EXACTLY were
my head had been.
The rear end of the car stuck in the mud at the bottom of the embankment with
its headlights shining on me.
I snatched off my shirt and wiped the vicious bugs from my face and neck as
best I could, and flung the ant covered shirt into the grass.
Looking around for Patti and Medicine, I saw her -- but not the horse. The tell-
tale flashlight was bobbing up and down as she ran along the fence line toward
the stuck car. I could smell gas fumes.
'HOLLY SHIT!'
The driver was racing the motor trying to pull the car out, but it was useless. All
he was doing was throwing rooster tails of muddy water high into the air. That
old Mercedes wasn't moving - not out of the ditch anyway. The hood with its
proud emblem would rear up each time he gunned it - but he was just digging a
deeper and muddier hole. Smoke, or steam, or both, began to billow around the
hood.
I waved both my arms in the air jumping up and down and yelling at the idiot to
shut it OFF! He must have read my lips in his head lights and he finally killed the
engine.
I yelled at Pattie,
"Where the hell is that horse?"
"He went south!"
She yelled back, just as she got to the car.
I screamed at her.
"GET YOUR ASS BACK UP THAT FENCE LINE NOW! THAT CAR IS LEAKING
GAS!"
She turned around and started trotting back the way she came. I continued
screaming at the top of my lungs,
"RUN GODDAMMIT! AND DON'T STOP!"
The people in the car heard also and both doors were opening.
I ran to the open door of my truck and snatched the cell phone off the dash. The
headset was attached to the phone so I put it on. Single piece over the head
speaker in right ear, mic on left side of face. I grabbed my Florida Marlins
baseball cap off the dash and put it on (as always) to hold it in place (it works
great). I punched in 911.
The antenna icon was flashing 'searching for service'. I clipped the phone on my
belt - I was wired and ready.
I could still feel fire ants stinging the back of my neck so I grabbed my pissy pink
shirt from the seat and wiped myself off again and threw the stinking shirt to the
ground as I hot-footed it down the slope in front of the stuck car, heading for the
ditch and twelve foot high 'deer-proof' fence beyond.
I listened for a dial tone expectantly.
I could see two people, a man and women, getting out of the car. The woman
was topless, clutching what looked like a small piece of cloth to her bouncing
bosom, her hair was wild and frizzy - and he was zipping up his pants. I could
see them both fairly well in the open door lights on opposite sides of the car.
'Jesus flippin Christ! - THATS why they friggin ran off the friggin road!'
I tried to stop quick, but skated on the wet grass right up to the ditch on her side
of the car, yelling at them,
"YOU LOVE BIRDS BETTER HEAD FOR THAT LIGHT UP THE FENCE -
FAST!"
They didn't hesitate but both started scrambling to get out of the ditch. He didn't
wait on her - not even half a second - and quickly left her, without a word or
backward glance.
She slipped and fell. Then she crawled on hands and knees out of the ditch.
Sobbing and filthy with mud, she finally managed to stand up. But then she
slipped and almost fell again, while turning around. Then she managed to catch
her balance by holding her arms out and arching her back like you see ballerinas
on ice do.
Her breasts were gorgeous, brown and muddy, firm and lovely. But, they were
going to be toasted to shit if she did not get her ass in gear and get the hell out
of there.
I needed to scream and run at the same time. I seemed to be frozen in
agonized astonishment -- astonishment, because he had left her like that, and
agonized, because she could not, would not, get moving! She looked at the
murky water and cried,
"Mi blouse - OH! - GOD! - MI BLOUSE!"
The phone chirped once. Then nothing - no tone - nothing. I snatched it off my
belt and looked at the lit face. 'Dropped call' It read in flashing florescent green!
'Crappy ass phone'
BUT, it had startled me back into action.
"SHIT LADY!"
I shouted in frustration and stuck the phone back on my belt. I looked around for
my pink shirt. It was laying in the glare of the headlights a couple feet behind
me. I went and snatched it up
(not quite cussing but getting close - I try not to cuss often, but sometimes the
situation calls, and even then I try to tone it down around the ladies, until they
really piss me off)
then quickly got back to the ditch and stuck the shirt into the muddy water with
both hands.
"HOT-DAMN, MOTHER-FLIPPIN, SILLY-ASS, WOMEN!"
Jerking it up, I wrung it and shook it out hard! She watched me with ignorant
fascination as I wadded up the wet shirt and sniffed it for a gas smell. It smelled
just like muddy ditch water and piss.
'Good - no time to check for ants.'
I pitched the stinky shirt to her across the ditch. She caught it and clutched it too
her ample breast. Her dark face lit up in a big smile, I could see her gleaming
white teeth.
"Gracious Senior"
She said in a smooth, sexy, Hispanic voice.
The smell of gasoline was stronger. I looked at the glow of the open door light
on the murky water and could see an obvious oil slick forming. More smoke was
billowing from the hood. It was certainly smoke. I could smell electrical wires
smoldering -
"CRAP LADY! GO! - catch your sorry ass boyfriend! RUN! FAST!"
"BOY FRIEND NO!"
She hissed,
"HUSBAND - BASTARD - COWARD!"
She spit the words out like curses and just stood there.
"Damn it to hell! OK! - SHIT! Then come with me - NOW!"
I jerked the phone off my belt and punched 'redial' - that time I heard a dial tone
almost immediately. I had it back on my belt and was jumping the muddy ditch,
when a professional sounding woman answered,
"Camden county emergency, give me your location please."
I spook loudly but plainly to the dispatcher emphasizing every word, while trotting
down the fence line with the lovely, half naked women-stranger, right behind me.
"NINE MILE MARKER -- SOUTH BOUND I-95 -- CAR IN THE DITCH --
BUSTED GAS TANK -- TRUCK AND HORSE TRAILER -- BROKE DOWN --
HORSE LOOSE -- HEADING SOUTH -- CHASING HORSE -- ON FOOT --
SEND FIRE TRUCK! -- MEAT WAGON -- COPS -- SHIT LADY -- SEND ME --
THE FLIPPIN -- MARINES -- NOW!"
I didn't get her response. The phone chirped again as it dropped the call.
'Technologies great ain't it - when it friggin works'
I picked up the pace, running and searching the darkness, hoping for a glimpse
of Medicine Man's white face or his big white spots.
'God don't let him get near that damn road!'
I heard her fall and hit the ground with a thump and groan behind me. She was
laying on her belly, sobbing again, with her bare feet in the air. Her shoes were
back there in the mud - spike heels no doubt. The problem was her too tight
mini skirt. Kneeling beside her I ordered her to lie still. I unzipped her skirt,
grabbed both sides of the waist band and riped it off of her ass. At least she
had on underwear, but no pantie hose. Then I jerked her up by the arm.
"Keep running dammit!"
I hissed in her ear - and we took off again. With her legs free to run, she stayed
on my heels.
We hadn't gone far at all, just far enough to save our lives, when a huge
explosion riped the night.
We both turned in horror as a huge fireball rose up over the interstate highway
just beyond where my truck and trailer was parked. It illuminated everything for
half a mile - including us. Almost Immediately a hurricane force wind hit us. She
tumbled into my arms and I twisted and staggered around but didn't fall as we
were stung by tiny debris in the vicious wind. As quick as it came it was gone.
'Blast wave - that was a fucking bomb!'
There was a eerie rumbling, roaring sound just like the Titanic going down. (I've
seen the movie).
Looking back, I could see clearly. A tanker with no rear tandems was sliding, its
rear end coming around, spewing out flames like a huge ground rocket blow
torch.
My horse trailer and pick-up were immediately engulfed in the flames. A line of
fire shot through the grass into the ditch and the Mercedes irrupted.
The tank rolled, and exploded again at the front just as the tractor of the rig
broke loose and careened toward the median like a kicked Tonka toy. It
tumbled crazily all the way across. Mangled and half crushed, it came to rest on
its wheels in the middle of the north bound lanes with its tandem tires in flames.
Everything over there came to a screeching halt, with the repetitious popping
sound of crunching bumpers. Hundreds of eyes were filled with real shock and
awe. People who could, began to get out of their vehicles. There was
screaming and yelling and general chaos -- mingled with the unique sound of
roaring flames. Hell fire and damnation that wasn't a dream.
The last vehicle south bond was a big truck. It slowed to a stop a little past
where we were standing and the air brakes came on with a loud swoosh. In a
moment the driver was running back up the empty highway and across the
median toward the mangled tractor. Others were ahead of him and they were
dragging the driver out. His door was gone and they managed to get him away
before his fuel tanks were aflame - lucky for them all, diesel don't explode - but it
burns like hell once ignited.
Three bond fires lite the night. A huge one right where I and Medicine and Patti
had been - only moments ago.
'Hell I hope she ran all the way to Woodbine - and maybe Medicine stayed on
the fence to exit seven. Theres a lot of woods on that side of the highway, but
he'll be fine in the woods - and I'll find him.'
I watched my rig literally melting away in the flames and thought about the crap
hidden in the feed barrel.
"HOLY -- MOTHER -- OF -- SHIT! ONE HUNDRED -- THOUSAND -- FLIPPIN
DOLLARS -- OF SHIT! AND IT AIN'T MY SHIT! SOMEBODIES GONNA PAY
FOR THAT SHIT! OH SHIT!"
I suddenly realized I was screaming. I shut up and turned my face to her. I was
still clutching her in my arms, but she was starring in shock at the unbelievable
mess. I released her and she started stumbling toward the carnage mumbling
something in Spanish. I grabbed her arm.
"WHOA - where the hell you going! I think you need to stay here. Shit - just
look at you - nearly naked and bare footed!"
She came out of her daze and laughed suddenly,
"HA - HA! Thanks to you! - mi amigo, I am nearly naked - but alive - Si!"
'God she sounded just like my wife'
For the first time I could really see her face. She was beautiful in the raging fire
light. Her dark eyes reflected the flames. Her black hair looked even more wild
and crazy. She was still clutching my dirty pink shirt to her breast. There was
mud on her face, neck and shoulders. She wore dark red panties with white
lacy stitching (Fredericks, of course) and her knees, legs and feet were all
scratched up and bleeding. She was streaked all over her body and face from
sweat and tears and muddy water. She was young - but not too young - over
twenty five anyway. About one hundred and fifteen pounds, I estimated.
She looked at me with question marks in her eyes (or maybe I imagined them)
and said calmly,
"You have insurance - no - they buy you new truck - Si - no problemo."
I just starred at her. I was momentarily speechless - and suddenly exhausted. I
knew she must be too. I sighed heavily,
"Why don't you put on the damn shirt?"
"Oh!"
She exclaimed,
"I did - but something bite me - so I took it off again - quick!"
I took the shirt from her and shook it out again trying to avert my eyes. She held
her hands over the nipples of her breast and smiled shyly (or maybe I imagined
the shyness),
"Here - hold it up and I'll check it."
Using the light from the cell phone I found several of the little bastards clinking to
the fabric and squished them with my thumb and finger and rubbed them off on
my pants leg.
"OK - no more bugs."
I announced, and she quickly slipped into the shirt and buttoned it. It was filthy,
but it covered her, hanging loosely, well below her butt. Except that her dark
nipples were still obvious under the wet pink. She was about 5 foot and maybe
5 inches tall - I figured.
It was quieter then. The roaring of the flames was lessoning. We could hear
sirens wailing in the distance There was no south bound traffic at all and the
north bound side was literally a bumper to bumper parking lot. Crickets and
frogs where singing loud. There must have been a regular afternoon down power
earlier that evening. The grassy ditches were full and the woods on the other
side of the fence were still dripping rain water. It was extremely hot and humid -
normal July weather for south Georgia and north Florida.
We were starring at each other when the phone rang and the 'Ode to Joy' ring
tone startled us both. I took the phone off my belt and unplugged the wire and
took off the cap and head set. Lifting the phone to my throbbing face and smiling
at my new friend, I answered cheerfully.
"Hell fire central."
There was a slight pause, then the same professional female voice as before
responded without a chuckle.
"Are you injured sir?"
"No - not really - scratches, bruises and ant bites - thats all. There was a - huge
explosion - crash and_"
She interupted,
"We have several calls sir - and a good fix on your location - everybody's on the
way -- everybody but the flippin marines."
That time she did chuckle.
"You probably ought to send them too Honey - or at least homeland security -
there was a bomb - for real!"
Another slight pause before she responded,
"Our caller ID says Everett Hemingway - are you Mr. Hemingway?"
"That's me, Everett Hemingway, and I would love to chat, but I need to go horse
hunting right now, and here is someone you can talk to - her name is __"
"Marcia - Marcia Cordoba"
The beauty smiled at me when she gave her name. I obviously flinched when
she said it.
'Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't believe in fucking coincidences. Cordoba was
the name of the Cuban cut throat who owned the shit that had just been
cremated - completely I hoped - but oh the wonders of modern forensic
science. But, it was too late to worry about it then'
Sirens were getting louder from the south as I put the cell phone into the lovely
Marcia's hand.
"Here - talk to this nice lady - I got to find my horse."
"Wait! Ev-a- Ev-err-it?"
She said uncertainly in her too sexy voice. Holding the cell out with her left hand
she reached up with her right and gently touched my cheek with her fingers, and
held them there. Her touch felt like cold fire, icy-hot! Our eyes locked for a long
moment - then she studied my face intently for another moment - then she said
sweetly, softly,
"This face - it is good face - it is swollen - red - covered with bloody scratches
and ugly bumps - but this face - is beautiful face - I kiss this face - now!"
And so she did. Her hand on the back of my head pulling it down! It would have
been a long, wet, passionate kiss -- full on my aching lips. But, I straitened up
quick and grabbed her shoulders tight and shook her hard. Her head bobbed
back and forth like a rag doll as she opened her eyes in total surprise. I spit my
words at her,
"Dammit girl! Just a few minutes ago you were giving your flippin husband a
flippin blow job!"
She laughed!
"HA, HA! But I didn't!"
Holding her hand in front of my face, wiggling her fingers and giggling vivaciously
she said,
"NO - hand job only."
"SHIT! LIKE I REALLY FUCKING BELIEVE THAT!"
She shrugged her shoulders, and flashing me that smile, she said defiantly, in a
matter-of-fact tone,
"Believe it - or no believe it - it is true. But - thank you again - mi amigo."
"What the hell for?"
I snapped at her.
"For saving mi beautiful fucking life."
She whispered flatly - and it sounded so damn sad.
Police cruisers, ambulances and fire trucks were arriving fast. Bright search
lights where scanning everywhere. One caught her face and held on her. She
lifted her arm with the cell phone still in her hand to shield her eyes from the
intense glare. Two choppers where coming in also and circling the whole area,
their search and landing lights turned the night into day.
Impulsively I grabbed her free hand and pulled her to me. Looking her straight in
the eye, I said,
"It has been an extreme pleasure to make your acquaintance - Marcia Cordoba
belle la Donna."
Then I kissed her hard on the lips, for about ten seconds, before turning around
abruptly, and trotting south to continue my search.
'Jesus - Sweet Jesus! - what the flip is going to flip up next? - I can't believe I
kissed her on the flippin mouth! - hand job my ass! - Marcia Cordoba? Marcia
Cordoba? - hell yes theres a friggin connection! - she's Cuban ain't she! - but
thats her married name - maybe? - maybe not? - shit double shit!'
My mind was racing, searching, figuring - while I ran through the wet grass in the
hot, humid subtropical night, looking for the missing Medicine Horse and
wondering how in the hell I was going to get him to Florida - and my ass out of a
sling!
Too be continued, next blog.
Thursday July 20, 2006 - 07:44pm (EDT)
Previous Post: Bringing Home The Medicine (part one)
Comments(2 total) Post a Comment♥♥♥♥... Offline IM OMG YOU FOUND
TIME TO WRITE TODAY HUH..wow now for me to be able to read this..think i
wil print it out then read it in the sun ok love u hugs tight NENA CANDYEYEZ
Saturday July 22, 2006 - 01:21am (PDT)
Step... Offline IM LOL...well Honey, it took me seven days to write part two...
so take your time...and don't forget to read part one. LOVE YOU HUMCHI~
Saturday July 22, 2006 - 01:09pm (EDT)
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