Shake-n-Bake Incident

This story is about when Andrea totaled our car just six months after we were married. I wrote the story through Andrea's eyes because I thought that would be more fun. I hope you enjoy. Shaun

Saturdays start out usual enough for me. I wake up a little later than usual, watch some television, and maybe a little cereal. Not the name brand of course. Off brand is what I crave. Nothing but the best for me. Sitting in my cut off scrubs and my old Buffalo city shirt I slowly ate my breakfast. Most of the dishes were dirty so I was using a spoon too big for the occasion. It was quite a chore trying to open my small mouth and fit the enormous utensil in. Quite frankly I’m surprised I didn’t cut the corners of mouth trying to eat the marshmallow matties.
After completing the less than enjoyable cereal, I tried to motivate myself to start the day. Dragging myself to the bathroom is usually a chore. For this reason alone I decided a shorter hair cut was the way to go. It is a dark brown, not quite black but definitely not blond. It goes well with my dark brown eyes. I haven’t always liked my brown eyes but I heard that men think that brown eyes look smart, so I’ve learned to like them.
“I’m getting in the shower.” I yelled to my wonderful husband. He responded with a less than enthusiastic “ok.” I don’t know what I was expecting, but I always expect people to be excited no matter what. Enthusiastic my husband is not! I think that’s what first attracted me to him. I’ve never met someone who wasn’t impressed by anything. It encouraged me to try and be the one who broke the shell he had around him. And of course I did. I always impress everyone. Everyone loves, you should know that right away.
After cleansing myself with some soap and water, I dressed for the day. Of course, this Saturday I had to work, so none of the casual jeans and t-shirt I longed for. My work attire consists of blue slacks that weren’t very flattering, a blue collared button up shirt and a very stylish vest. In the front of the vest were four gold colored buttons, but through time they have faded into a bronze color. Less shine and passion. In a lot of ways in represents my like in the job. Through time things get dull and you’re not as willing to go beyond what you’re asked. After a year it’s bound to happen. I’ve become bronzed.
Working in a major Hotel chain isn’t as glamorous as it might seem. I had the impression of Home Alone. Food service constantly, all the movies you could stand, and hanging out in front of the big fireplace in the lobby. Apparently as an employee they won’t allow you to do any of that stuff. I know what you’re thinking, shock right, well me too.
One glance in the mirror told me that I was completely plain in my attire, not that personally I can be too plain. I seem to light up a room with my smile if I do say so myself. At least that’s what my husband tells me. I try to stay humble but sometimes I like to have the comments wash over me and take affect.
I left the mirror and images of blandness behind to give my goodbye to my husband. I walked into the living room and stood perfectly still waiting for an acknowledgment from Shaun. That’s my husband. With a glance of utter boredom he finally realized what was going on, “Hey my pretty girl,” he said in faked excitement. I’ve trained him well.
“I’m off to work. I love you.”
Shaun responded in kind, “Have a good day and call me when you get a chance. With a quick hug and kiss I was off.
Stepping out into the hot July day wasn’t very inviting. It was only 9 a.m. and was already in the 80’s. The best part of all was our 1982 Plymouth that didn’t have air conditioning. It had four doors and probably the size of two modern cars put together. In a word; a beast. We most lovingly nicknamed the ogre “shake-n-bake.” The transmission wasn’t working correctly so once you got up to sixty-five miles per hour the car would shake violently like it was being exorcised, you thought your teeth would rattle out. The same shaking motion would happen when you tried to roll down the driver side window. Like I said before, nothing but the best for me. I have my suspicion that Shaun had taken advantage of the V-6 and raced the aging machine a little more than it could handle. He’s commented on many occasions that it was like driving a really fast couch. The front seat was a long maroon bench that was quite comfortable. Too bad it didn’t look as comfortable as it was. It screamed 80s, and not in the cool sense. I felt like I should be wearing glasses way to big for my head and corduroy pants that would made me heard a block away. I sometimes would listen to Wham just to honor the car. I think old shaky likes it.
We live on a busy street so getting out is sometimes a little difficult. I finally made it to the freeway. My speed slowly increased, and I was making very sure I didn’t exceed that all important shaking zone. I just couldn’t take the convulsions the possessed car liked to dish out this early on a hot day. I wish we could afford a new car. Just yesterday me and Shaun decided to just accept the fiend we have. After almost six months we finally decided to get it washed. Unfortunately they don’t make soap strong enough to wash away ugly. So the maroon stayed and our disappointment increased.
I finally reached my exit without any shaking to get me in a bad mood. I always hated this exit. It was the kind that curved sharply as you were getting off, and taking a sharp corner at sixty wasn’t exactly fun. This morning I happened to exit the same time as a semi truck. Even with my limited speed the semi was going slower than I desired. I quickly changed lanes right before the curve. That placed me in the far right lane against the concrete barricades. Beyond the barricades to my right there is a twenty foot drop.
I reached the curve in the exit speeding up trying to pass the semi. I was barely past the back wheels of the trailer when all of a sudden the semi started to come into my lane. Panic found my chest and I tried to honk, but I couldn’t see his mirrors which told me that he couldn’t see me. I slammed on my brakes fish tailing a little bit, but it was too late. The trailer smacked into the side of the Plymouth setting off the airbags. The smoke blinding my vision. Adrenaline pumping so fast I don’t think I felt the force of the bags slamming into my face scrapping me up. The force pushed me into the barricades. My front and back right tires lifted up on the concrete feeling like I might flip over. My head flying everywhere, broken glass all over the place. My momentum helped the car come off the barricades and slam back into the trailer, sending me again into the barricades. I was pin balling back and forth not knowing when the deathly ride would stop. I felt like I was going to die, I saw no end to this journey. I thought the trailer might run me over. I kept slamming and I felt things break on the car. I wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t me breaking, but I had to believe the car had been protecting me. After what seemed like forever, the car started to loose it’s energy and was slowing dramatically.
Out of all the chaos and catastrophic damage done to the vehicle and myself, I was still able to pull off to the side away from traffic in the fairly safe emergency zone. Once the car was completely stopped I just sat there in disbelief of what just occurred. Abba played loudly in the background. How embarrassing, getting in a car crash listening to Mamma Mia. After a few moments the actual fear started to seep in. I got out of the car looking around trying to figure out where I was.
“Are you ok?” A man said who I wasn’t completely paying attention to.
“I think so.” I responded in barely a whisper.
“Do you want me to call anyone.” The man said.
I couldn’t think right now. My brains felt like mashed potatoes that were left out to long. Finally I answered. “Yeah, could you call my husband.”
The man reached for his phone while I leaned against the car trying not to pass out from the exhaustion setting in. I spit out the number and the man dialed.
“No one is answering, is there someone else I can call?”
Unbelievable, here I am almost loosing my life and my stupid husband doesn’t want to answer his phone because he doesn’t recognize the number.
“No, I’ll try to call him from my phone.” Luckily my purse was reachable through the broken glass and deflated air bags.
I was still in shock and I started to feel the pain that accompanies a ride like that. My arm started to throb and a group of people that witnessed the incident were starting to gather around me. Including the semi driver. Luckily I was on the phone and didn’t have to answer anyone’s questions. In the back ground I could hear sirens and people shuffling and walking to a safer zone. The traffic from the freeway still passing by us at high speed.
“Hello” Shaun answered his phone. For some reason the voice set panic into me again.
“Shaun, I got in an accident, a semi hit me, I think I broke my arm, I’m off of the 6th south exit…Oh, the cops are here I have to go!”
I’m sure that was enough information to fill him in.
A cop in the usual attire showed up with paramedics closely behind.
“Ma’am, are you ok?”
“I think so, my arm hurts really bad though.”
The paramedics routinely checked me over, they pointed to my right middle finger. It had a deep cut that was bleeding badly. I looked at it and noticed that I also had blood across my uniform.
“Do you want us to take you to the hospital? Everything looks fine but if you would like we can take you.” The paramedics asked.
Must be a slow day if they’re willing to take me in an ambulance for just a cut finger.
“No.” I responded still in a barely audible voice.
I hate pain. I don’t deal well with pain. When I was in fifth grade I lost a friend because I stubbed my toe and she wanted to help. I just yelled at her wanting to blame her for the searing pain shooting up my entire body. She ran from me crying, but I didn’t care I had bigger things to take care of. Luckily as I’ve grown more mature I’ve learned to hold in such urges. But inside all I wanted to do was kick and scream and call anyone who was near a butt face. Harsh, I know.
The paramedics took me to their waiting ambulance and tried to clean the wound and bandage it up as best they could. While I was being attended to, the police officer was questioning the semi driver. He looked to be in his mid 30s. I could tell he was shaken up, I’m sure seeing a 82 Plymouth was enough shock let alone it bouncing off his trailer.
As the paramedics were finishing up the cop came over. He asked me some simple questions as I sat in the back of the ambulance. As we spoke, the ambulance got a call for a more urgent event so I was kicked out rather abruptly. The officer led me to his car and sat me in the back while he sat in the drivers seat. I’ve never been in the back of a police car before. He said it was to keep us safe from the traffic.
After the questioning he had some paper work for me to fill out. Apparently he didn’t care about my finger. As I was painfully filling out tedious events on the piece of paper I noticed my husband walking towards us. It seems that he had gotten a ride from his brother. I would like to think that he ran to my side with tears in his eyes thankful that I was ok. None of that happened, he walked right past me apparently more interested in checking the car out as it was being hoisted up on the tow truck.
Trying to get out of a cop car from the back is an impossible task. Evidently they make it so only people on the outside can open the door. Go figure.
“Hey” I yelled from the back seat trying to get Shaun’s attention. He didn’t hear. The cop then ran his siren, I saw Shaun jump. Serves you right. Come save your wife from the cop car. He came over and opened my door.
“Are you ok?” Now he cares. If it wasn’t Shaun I would be really annoyed with that question today. “Yes, I think so. I cut my finger though.” He checked it out and cringed at the deep cut. And he wants to be a doctor. We’ll see.
The cop got out and handed me some paper work and told me I was free to go. We slowly walked back to his brothers car, Shaun on my left side holding my hand. I was glad to get off the freeway exit. I was almost deaf from listening to the speeding cars for the last half hour. We drove away, Mark taking it slow. I was grateful for the slow pace. I’ve never seen him go slower than warp speed on any street and don’t get me started when he drives on the freeway.
We drove unhurriedly through the city, heading towards the hospital to get me checked out. I tried to distract myself from the pain in my finger and other odds and ends of pain coursing through my racked body. I leaned on Shaun’s shoulder and he wrapped his arm lovingly around me and kissed the top of my head. I felt safe in his arms. I was almost as tall as him, but he was strong. He had a hard upbringing which explained the unwillingness to expose his emotions to anyone but me. Ever since I’ve known him he has put on this façade of being a tough guy, but I’ve never met anyone more sensitive. He claims I’m the only one who can see through his superman disguise, but I don’t think that’s true. What I do know is that I love him and I know he loves me. For right now that’s all I needed. It even somehow took away the pain I was feeling at the moment.
As we drove I wondered where our life would take us. Just barely married we had a lot of road a head of us and no car to get us there. I’m glad I survived my horrific events today. I don’t think Shaun could live without me. I looked up at him and gave him a big smile and an awkward hug. He just smiled, a shy smile and kissed me. I was safe now and I knew that. Everything was going to be ok. Always.