Life never ceases to amaze me. From the actions and reactions of everyday people to the natural evolution of this beautiful planet we live on, there is always something out there that I have never seen or heard before. Being a bit of a curious guy, I always enjoy these new experiences as not only does it add to my bank of useless knowledge but it also makes me look forward to what else, beyond this current experience, is out there. I live in Belleville, IL and, outside of a few vacations or business trips don’t get to see a lot of what’s out in the world. Hell, I haven’t even experienced all that Belleville has to offer yet. Given that, I am constantly dumbfounded by other countries and cultures and how they differ from us. Good or bad, it takes all kinds to move the world and we are but small pegs in the grand scheme of things.
Yesterday, I was lucky enough to meet one of those pegs – and it changed my life forever.
I wasn’t looking to make any new acquaintances, especially none that would touch me so deeply. I was simply walking the 4 blocks from my office building to the parking garage as I do every day at 4:30. With the exception of the sweltering heat, yesterday’s walk was no different than the one the day before and the day before that. I left my building, walked down the street, crossed the street where I always cross it, crossed the next intersection where I always cross it, walked up the two flights of stairs that I always walk up, and sauntered down to my car in the vicinity in which I always park it. It was a standard afternoon.
I didn’t notice him at first, as once I entered my car I was focused on putting the face on my stereo, getting the car started, and cranking the AC. The air coming out of the vents was a little warm at first, but any air movement felt good after the miserable trek I had taken just to make it to my car. As I looked in my rearview mirror to see how much sweat had accumulated on my ever-expanding forehead, I saw him for the first time.
I wouldn’t have noticed him at all were it not for the slight movement he made. It wasn’t even much of a movement, but I caught it out of the corner of my eye and I had to stare back at what I saw fixed on the hood of my car. Alone, outside, and taking refuge in a public parking garage on this blistering hot day, he stared back at me partially in fear and partially in defiance. He was planted on the hood of my Buick (quite a large hood at that) which protected him from both vehicular and foot traffic in the garage. He didn’t belong in that garage and he knew it, but where else could he go?
Searching my soul for what to do next, I came up with a few options: First, I could get out of my car, remove him from the hood, walk him to safety and ensure that he would survive to see another glorious day. Or, I could put my car in reverse, drive home as fast as I could, and see if he could hold on the entire way. While option one would have been good for my soul, option two sounded like a lot more fun.
As I slowly backed out of my parking spot (I didn’t want the game to end too quickly), I saw the surprise and the fear in eyes as he hunkered down against the hood for the wild ride that he now realized he would be facing. He didn’t scream or protest, but instead just sat there holding on for what could be his last possible ride. He was at my mercy and he knew it.
As I exited the parking garage on the downward spiral ramp, I drove a little faster than I normally do just to test his reaction. Half of me expected him to jump off and run away to safety, which I would not have blamed him for in the least. The other half of me, however, really wanted him to try and hang on. I wanted to see what he was made of and I wanted him to want the same for himself. Thankfully, he was up to the challenge. As we spun down the spiral to the ground floor, I could see him clench his arms and legs tighter against the car to offset the forces that were trying to pull him off. He wavered, but never faltered. This was going to be fun.
Once I exited the garage itself, I was stuck in city traffic for a few blocks prior to entering the highway. I got a few funny looks from pedestrians and other drivers as my competitor was not small and actually garnered a lot of attention. He was very noticeable hanging on to my car and fading in the heat. I thought for certain that the heat generated from being there while traversing these city streets would make him give up and escape for some shade, but his perseverance was strong and his will was rock solid. We were going to settle this on the highway.
I approached the highway at about 45 MPH which looked to rattle our hero, but not shake him. Seeing that he was not going down easily, I quickly pushed it to 75. I had but a small stretch of highway to shake him before I had to exit and resume my trek along the roads of East St Louis. The speed limit would be slower there along with many stop signs and stop lights. Any advantage that I was going to get was going to be on this highway and I had to pounce on my opportunity.
I got the car to 75 and was giggling to myself in both amusement and anticipation as the increasing speed made him hunker down even more. Of course, at 75 MPH hunkering down can only get you so far. At one point while driving fast and also changing lanes, I saw both arms and a leg get lifted off of the car so that there was only one leg fixing him to my rapidly moving automobile. Amazingly enough, he quickly gathered himself and resumed his grip with all four appendages. I thought that one more lane change would do the trick, but at that moment I looked up and realized that traffic was really slow in front of me and I had to slam on the brakes in order to avoid an accident. Even through the slamming of brakes and sudden stoppage of the car, my rival held on with all of his might. I was impressed.
I entered East St Louis knowing that he would get a break here for awhile, but after that I had good stretch of Route 15 in which I could get the car up to 80 and really see what he was made of. While I was driving through East Saint he would hold on and when I stopped he would adjust himself accordingly to ensure the best possible positioning for the remainder of our trip. Soon enough, we had passed through town and were descending a hill towards the last stoplight before I really let him have it. Once we reached the stoplight he looked out, saw the situation before him, and looked back at me. For a moment, we connected. We both knew what was in front of us and what was behind us. There was no turning back now as we had come too far in our journey. I was going to give it all I had and so was he. And despite the fact that I was trying to throw his body off of the hood of my car by driving speeds in excess of the speed limit and probably therefore rendering him lifeless, we had developed a mutual respect for each other.
As the light turned green I hit the gas as hard as I could and we tore off of the line. There was no traffic in front of me, so unless there were cops watching or large debris on the road, I had about a mile and half of pure unadulterated speeding and swerving in an attempt to throw him off of my car. Within seconds, I had reached 65 MPH and was swerving from this lane to the next in hopes that the changes in direction would affect his grip and he’d end up tumbling across the hot summer pavement. Nothing. I increased my speed to 75 and kept swerving, but still he wouldn’t budge. I saw far ahead that the stoplight was green thereby ensuring that by the time I got there it would be red and I would have to stop. This was my last chance. I punched it to 85 and was flying down the road. I looked into his beady little eyes and saw that he was scared, but determined. It was at that point that I realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. This poor, misplaced being was not going to let go and at that point I realized that I really didn’t want him to. I began to slow down.
Given the circumstances that presented themselves at that time, I had given him all I had and he had survived. I found that I respected what he did. He didn’t know me and he didn’t know my car, yet he chose to sit on my hood on that fateful day. When I started the car he could’ve gotten down, but he chose to stay there. I think he wanted a challenge and I think he wanted me to present it to him.
As I slowed down so that I wouldn’t rear end the 7 cars in front of me at the stop light, I knew that my speed wouldn’t be increasing for the rest of the trip. Sure, I’d drive the speed limit, but maybe I’d drive just a little bit under to ensure the safety of my new friend. We still had to go through Belleville, but not much of it. Even though he would never say so, I knew he was tired from his struggle and I wanted to make him feel at ease. From that point on, it was my job to take care of him and nurse him back to health. He would live to ride another day.
Once we got to my driveway, I pulled in and exited the car. He was still on my hood, but was starting to move around a little bit in an attempt to get himself oriented. I grabbed my keys to unlock the door to the house, but couldn’t help myself from talking to him. “Dude,” I said “that was one helluva ride. If you need to get back to St. Louis, I’m headed back tomorrow morning. You can tag along if you want.”
He didn’t say anything, but gave me a look as if to say “thank you – for everything.”
This morning as I got into my car, I was reminded of my journey home yesterday. I didn’t see my friend, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe we were meant to spend one special moment together and live with the memories and the lessons. Maybe fate stepped in and said that at that point in time we needed each other, but then we would be separated for life or longer. Or maybe, just maybe, the birds that have a nest in our neighbor’s tree ate him. Personally, I’d like to think it’s a bit of all three.
Thanks for reading.
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