by Tara Gabor
Kyle reached for the radio dial, turning it on. He heard static and twisted the dial, hoping for a rock ‘n’ roll station. His eyes didn’t leave the road, but his attention was on the radio, a sound of the Rolling Stones reaching him, strains of Brown Sugar faintly making its way through the surrounding static.
The patch of ice was nearly invisible and would be undetectable if not for the glint of sunbeam reflected off the solid water. Kyle saw the dancing bits of light. He registered the risk of hitting the ice patch. The bus had gained speed without Kyle’s intention, by sheer mindless driving and downhill momentum. The mild curve of the road did not improve the situation.
Kyle jerked his hand back from the radio dial. He lifted his foot from the gas pedal and made ready to slam on the breaks. He remembered in time that applying the brakes too quickly in a large vehicle, even one equipped with four-wheel drive, could compound the situation. His foot remained elevated an inch above the brake. Still heading downhill, the velocity picked up. Kyle pumped the brakes, covering the pedal with his foot.
The small patch of unseasonable ice should be a non-event, Kyle thought, remembering to breathe. He concentrated on the ice and the curve he intended to make, hugging his side of the road.
David Moore alternated between careful steps and a downhill trot through a winter landscape yearning to see spring. The cabin was barely a quarter mile up the slope. David headed down the dirt road but cut through the forest toward the paved road, figuring to make better time. He wanted to find a warm barn to sleep in, and he wanted to find it shortly before dark. He could feel the temperature dropping. The night would be freezing. A warm stack of hay would make a fine enough bed for a few hours. He was satisfied to see the paved road just ahead. He pushed through the hanging branches and stepped out firmly onto the edge of ice.
The unexpected figure of a man in his direct path caused Kyle a sharp stab of panic, followed by an instinctive swerve of the wheel. He jammed his food down on the brake. Dental supplies shifted in their respective cupboards; the aging frame shuttered, skidding as the vehicle came in contact with the thin coat of ice and changed direction. Kyle realized the over-correction, but events were in motion now. The bus fishtailed. Kyle took his foot off the brake and began a pumping motion, turning the steering wheel.
David slid on the ice, his arms flailing like wings. In the path of the oncoming bus, he was as defenseless as a deer stunned by headlights. But the bus jerked away, and David found solid ground staggering backward on his left leg. He steadied himself and checked for the location of the bus.
The tires whined as they sought purchase on the road, sending chills up Kyle’s spinal column and making David cringe. The rolling dental lab was now skidding horizontally across the narrow road, the back end racing toward the trees aligning the lip of the pavement. The side of the mountain dropped hundreds of feet down steep, rocky terrain. Kyle felt powerless. His hands clung to the steering wheel, willing the bus in the direction he wanted to go. He leaned forward, encouraging the hurtling metal forward, but the bus threatened to flip, the right side wheels levitating above the ice for several moments. The inertia of the lifted wheels and the weight of the bus eventually brought the vehicle back to ground, smashing sideways between two trees rooted determinedly along the road, eventually landing upright, wedged between a sturdy white oak and a mammoth yellow poplar. The wreck sheered the right side driving mirror off at its base. The left hand mirror was bent neatly in half.
The wreck happened a few yards in front of David. The awkward vehicle slid, swerved, and righted itself like a clumsy ballerina keeping time with an orchestra of disaster. The dance finished with a crescendo of scraping metal and howling trees, bending but not giving way. As soon as the bus came to a stop, David ran to help.
He reached the door of the bus, needing to descend a few steps below road level, the wheels of the bus firmly at the edge. David could not see the bus driver or any children. He pulled on the door, but it did not move. He put his weight into it, pushing against the handle with no result but a squeaky protest. He banged and called out.
He was ready to find a rock to smash in a window to crawl through when a man appeared in the window of the door. The man moved one hand to his head. He looked unsteady on his feet. His eyes focused through the window on to David and seemed to register from whom the banging and calling was coming. Slowly he reached both hands to the door. David watched, afraid the man would not be able to open the stubborn door either, but the door was not jammed that badly and responded to the push from inside.
“Are you okay? Are there children inside?” David demanded of the man. David rushed past Kyle, who stood, stunned, at the door, looking vaguely at David and outside at the swirling snow. David looked around the bus. He picked up fallen supplies and peaked under the dentist chair. Satisfied there were no other persons onboard, he turned his attention back to the man at the door, the apparent driver.
“Let me look at you,” David said, peering at the bump beginning to appear on the man’s head. David moved his head back to look directly in the man’s eyes. The fella did look dazed, but conscious. David figured the crash was a shock, but no one badly hurt, including himself. He smiled at the guy and stepped back, getting a better look at him.
“Thanks,” the man said, offering a wan grin.
That’s when David realized he knew the man, not in any proper sort of way, but David recognized him, sure enough. David was looking at the man who was eating at the Mountainside Cafe when it was robbed, the man who gave up his wallet to James, and one of two eye-witnesses of the earlier crime.
Chapter 11
Jed was half way down the valley following his father’s apparent route toward the paved road when he heard the noises from the crash. He took off after his father as soon as James had told him about their conversation. He wanted to be back in the cabin, snuggling with Daisy. He was making serious time and anticipated getting lucky, but he did not like his father leaving like this. Jed was the eldest, but both sons respected their father and did not do a lot of independent thinking. Their father was the head of the family and he made the rules. That’s the way it was, always had been.
Jed crashed through the forest like a bear, swiping past tree branches and brush, in his hurry to find his father and ensure his safety. Cars crashed all the time in the hills and often ended badly, occasionally pedestrians were involved.
David had recognized Jed’s lack of gracefulness at an early age, realizing the boy would be large-boned, but he also clearly saw Jed’s ability with blocks and Lincoln logs. David insisted Jed learn about auto mechanics, fostering a friendship with Lynnwood Jasper who owned the nearest auto shop, providing Jed an opportunity for employment outside of mining. Jed had worked at the shop since he was fourteen, five years now, and Jasper praised his work to David, adding James to his employees when he turned fourteen as well.
Jed made it to the road, arriving on the same path as his father. He stopped when he saw the crashed bus, looking around for any sign of his father. He approached the bus cautiously, rounding the backside and approached the open door.
His father was applying a damp paper towel to a man’s head sitting in the driver’s seat. His father looked unharmed as far as Jed could tell. The other man sat passively, allowing David to administer to him.
“Dad! What happened?”
“Accident. But there aren’t any children on this bus, just the driver. He’ll be okay, I’m a-thinking, though the bus, I’m not so sure.”
Kyle responded to the voices, and wanted to get up, assess the situation, do something.
“I am a dentist and this is my dental lab,” he explained, looking from David to Jed, still standing on the ground in front of the door.
“Yeah, well, looks more like a stuck-between-two-trees dental lab to me,” David said, gently. “Want to try standing up?”
David provided his arm as support and assisted Kyle. Kyle stood up. David took his arm away. Kyle nodded. He felt s
teady and was regaining his composure, remembering the ride down the mountain, heading back to Lexington. Then the patch of ice, the skid, the crash, and here he was.
“You aren’t bleeding as far as I can see,” David observed. “You seeing double or anything like that?”
“No, I think I’m okay. Thanks for your help.”
Kyle began moving about the bus, picking up supplies that had ended up scattered on the floor. He saw the dental chair lying on its side. He bent over, placing one arm under the arm of the chair. He attempted to right the equipment, but the awkward mass did not cooperate.
David motioned for Jed, and the two followed Kyle down the narrow aisle.
“Hold up. We’ll help on this side,” David instructed. Jed could have righted the chair on his own, but he followed instructions. David and Jed lined up on the far side of the chair. David pointed where Kyle should stand.
“Okay, doc. Let us push up, you guide the thing down on your side.”
Kyle nodded.
David said, “On three. One. Two. Three.”
The chair was heavy, but mostly the load was awkward. David and Jed lifted it the first time without much effort. Kyle thanked them. He examined the chair, adjusting the table and connected lamp, checking knobs.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help. If you could get me to the nearest phone, I can call for help.”
“No point in a phone. No one will be coming out on a night like this. Best to drive away as fast as you can,” David suggested politely though firmly.
“The bus looks stuck,” Kyle mused as David guided him towards the driver’s seat.
“Give it the ol’ college try.”
Kyle sat in the seat, pressed the clutch and moved the gear stick, into first, second, back to first and into reverse. He looked out in front of the bus. The front end was wedged securely between two sturdy looking trees, at least a foot of hood space resting cozily within the flora’s embrace. Kyle shook his head, worried about the prospect of moving the vehicle.
“Well, better start it up,” David urged.
Kyle turned the key. The engine responded, purring smoothly. Kyle’s mouth formed a round “Oh” of amazement. David smiled smugly and crossed his arms, happily anticipating getting rid of the tiresome witness. He would prefer if no one had occasion to mention seeing David on the road on this particular day.
Kyle checked that the gearshift was still in reverse and gently began applying pressure to the accelerator. Metal and wood complained in grinding unison, neither giving a pinch. The motor began to whine. Kyle released both clutch and accelerator, allowing the engine to quit.
“Probably needs a bit of encouragement. Jed, go take a look. The wheels may be stuck in some snow or mud hiding underneath.”
Jed did as told. Kyle and David watched the younger man inspect the front of the bus, leaning forward to check the pair of tires on either side. Jed placed both hands in the middle of the hood and levered his weight against it, rocking the bus slightly. He did this again and a third time before releasing his grip and returning to the cab.
“Looks like the driver’s side wheels are embedded in new mud. The branches aren’t helping. With a bit more muscle, we can move her. I can’t do it by myself, though.” He sounded mournful, like a boxer who realizes he has grown too old for the fight game.
David placed his hand on Jed’s shoulder and nodded.
“Good,” he turned towards Kyle. “Give me a minute. We’ll get some more muscle. Just stay put and don’t worry.”
David left the bus and walked to the edge of the forest. He looked up towards the direction of the cabin with the women and the rest of the holdup gang. He cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a birdcall, a custom call with a long low note and three shorter, higher notes. He took a breath and repeated the call. He had taught Jed and James to answer to that call when they were children, finding the technique a simple solution to bringing the boys to him whenever they were too long out of sight, playing after school, or hunting.
He waited a few moments and gave the call a third time. He heard the answering call, a repeat of his original. He sent a different whistle back up the rise in acknowledgement. He returned to the cab of the bus to wait.
Chapter 12
Guy pulled away from Ruth, his hand remaining on her right breast. His looked into her eyes as if to say he did not want to stop kissing her. But James stood insistently in the doorway.
“Are you coming? Dad called us. We gotta go.”
“You gotta go. Me, I gotta keep my sweet thing sweet,” he pursed his lips at Ruth.
“Fine.”
James turned and walked out onto the porch. He needed to get down the hill to his father. He had already given the return call. His father would be waiting. He wasn’t sure what was up, but Jed had already left. Maybe something happened to Jed. Whatever it was, James needed to go. He had told Guy. If Guy was going to disrespect David like that, after robbing together, the consequences were on Guy.
Daisy and Callie warmed themselves by the stove in the main room, rubbing their hands together. They turned towards James as he crossed the room.
“I need to go,” he said solemnly, looking at Callie.
“I know.” Her eyes were soft and alluring. She gave him a sad smile.
“Maybe I’ll come back.”
“Okay. I would like that.” She reached up and mussed his hair. A stray strand came away in her hand, and she palmed it, unseen.
James hesitated a moment, an urge to kiss her good bye stalling his exit, but his father’s call echoed in his head. He left the cabin, following the dirt path to the larger dirt road just as his brother had not an hour ago. He spotted the cut in the woods and headed down the hill.
Guy pulled away from Ruth.
“I better go see what the fools are up to. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He winked and rubbed his finger under her chin. She gazed at him lovingly.
“No. I don’t want you to go. It’s cold outside. Don’t you want to stay here with me? I can keep you warm,” she teased him.
Guy repeated he would be back as soon as possible, smiling at the other women as he left. Rose joined the other women and began comparing notes about their most recent suitors. Callie wrapped the strand of James’ hair around a button on her dress.
Back at the bus, David rubbed his hands up and down his arms, keeping company with Kyle inside the cab. Jed worked furiously, digging at the left front pair of wheels with a dental dish. Kyle had found it on the floor, thrown from a cupboard during the impact. The dish, used to catch patients’ spittle, boasted an irregular shape, like a scoop, more or less. Jed had stepped into the bus for a respite from the worsening weather, but he asked Kyle if he could use the bowl to scoop away the snow and mud impairing the movement of the front wheels.
“Scoop seems to be working,” David remarked. Jed was visible through the windshield of the bus, bending down and bobbing up, throwing a scoop of snow-mud away from the wheels.
Kyle said little, lost in his own worries. He had a mild headache. He wasn’t sure if it was due to a concussion or the cold temperatures. In addition to the headache, he felt adrift, unable to wrap his mind around the accident and its aftermath. He should be arriving at the university. He needed to let Bea know he would be late arriving home. He needed to let everyone know he was okay. The accident was minor. But what he really needed was to think through what was tickling the back of his mind. Something about these men helping him was disconcerting. Two men, in the mountains, working to help free his bus should not be so peculiar. People in these parts helped their neighbors. They had to rely on each other. That should not strike him as strange. He sat quietly, passively watching Jed and the weather.
James followed the path used by his father and brother, taking time to look for their tracks, hidden in a few spots by the wind blown snow. Guy benefited by James’ newly made markings, and he was behind James as they emerged from the woods onto blacktop. They approac
hed the front of the bus. Jed stopped scooping when he saw them and motioned towards the windshield. David gave a solemn wave. James waved back.
“What happened?” Guy asked.
“I got here after the crash. Dad thought there might be hurt kids, but there’s just the driver. He tried to back out, but the wheels got dug in a bit. I think I managed to clear enough muck out of the way. If we all push, maybe we can get him going again.”
David stood up and spoke to Kyle, pointing to the driver’s seat before descending the steps and speaking to Jed.
“He’s ready. He’ll steer as we push. Think we’re ready?”
Jed nodded.
“Good. Okay, let’s push.”
The group of four lined up, arms on the hood of the bus, and pushed. The large mass of steel rolled backward several inches. The men readied themselves for another go. David looked at Kyle, who nodded, adjusting the steering wheel. The men pushed again. The bus cleared the trees. Wordlessly David and his men entered the cab of the bus. The temperature was near freezing.