As I slammed the gas pedal to the floor, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping with everything I would stay alive to tell my story. It was always a chore to meet my son’s father at the halfway mark between his home and mine, and this particular evening I was tired.
Why couldn’t Ernie drive Mack all the way home? He knows I’m tired. Geez, he knows I had to borrow money for gas and this blasted Tiburon of mine is fit for the junk yard only, I thought, agitated about Mack’s father.
I had been following behind a four-door, older make white car with a single driver that seemed to not know the roads like I did. Every turn or bend in the road, the car ahead of me slowed down. And every time there seemed to be a chance for me to pass it, the driver decided to speed up. I did not know for certain whether I would have enough road space and time to chance passing. My Tiburon sits low to the ground, and I couldn’t see far enough ahead to determine safe passage, especially without knowing for certain whether oncoming traffic might be just around the up-ahead turns.
It was encroaching upon dusk, and the winding roads from Cheticamp to Baddeck appeared less visible with the glare off those last, sinking rays from the Sun. I could’ve driven them with my eyes closed, for this trip I often made.
With many stressful things on my mind, and considering the fact that the car ahead of me was annoying, my goal to reach my destination became urgent. The trip usually, with no traffic, took about one hour and a half, but this driver ahead of me already pushed me behind by 20 minutes.
Geez! Why don’t you pull over! Let me pass! I thought, as I tailgated the annoying driver that was making me late – I just wanted to get my son Mack, and get home.
I knew my chance was coming. Since the Sun had sunk and I had been forced to put on my headlights, I could tell more easily whether there would be on-coming traffic – I’d be able to see lights coming.
Here it was, my chance to pass. And although the straight stretch of road ahead was making the driver speed up, I knew my Tiburon could easily fly past the annoying car that was determined to stay ahead of me.
One last turn, then it’s mine, I thought as I pulled out to pass. I had about half a mile of straight passing road ahead, and was eager as a jack rabbit to make up the lost time from dragging behind the inexperienced driver of the white car I was flying past.
Doing 140 kilometers an hour, I eased back into my own lane of the two-way highway. Still cruising along at that speed, I only noticed the very large moose directly in the middle of the road as I was on top of it.
Oh My God, I thought, nearly panicking. “OH MY GOD!” I said, not knowing what to do, as I noticed the beast hesitate from continuing to cross the road. I didn’t have enough time to slow down to avoid hitting it, but I also didn’t think swerving to avoid it would be wise, so I closed my eyes and laid down heavily on the gas pedal. The last thing I remember seeing was the large moose’s head swing back and nick my driver’s side mirror…
That evening during that trip to fetch my son, there was indeed an Angel sitting on my shoulder.