Rollover

Hanging from the ceiling of her truck in the seatbelt, Daisy attempted to orient herself. 

She remembered the truck breaking traction and begin to slide down the incline toward the snow berm, and it breaching and sliding across the berm. Then, as if in slow motion, it tilted and rolled and came to rest upright, but askew. Now she was hanging in her seatbelt on a mid-winter day in Anchorage, Alaska.

How long she would be there was an unknown. The temperature was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and it was morning. She couldn't move, much less reach the belt latch. Nor could she reach her phone, which had sailed away to some unknown destination. 

So she began to assess herself and her options. She was alive, nothing felt broken, and the temperature was relatively moderate.

#

Soon she heard voices above her. Someone yelled, "She's alive!" 

Looking over her shoulder, she could see someone working his way down the incline. One of his companions yelled, "Don't move her" and he called out, "Don't move."

Then the someone was at her side window."She's conscious!" he yelled up the hill. 

"Hi, my name is Eric. Are you OK?" he asked.

She nodded, "I think so."

He opened the door slowly. It creaked and she could see that it was warped.  

 Let's get you out of there." He said as he reached to the seatbelt buckle.

"Wait." She envisioned what would happen if her weight suddenly came down on her right leg. It was bent to side and back, over the console. A torn ligament, or broken knee, or broken hip was not very good for a seventy-nine-year-old body. She had to work at extricating it, but slowly freed her leg. Grasping the steering wheel tightly and bracing, she nodded at the stranger standing by her. 

He clicked the buckle and she fell down onto the steering wheel and seat, where she rested for a few seconds, pulling herself together. He started to help her out of the vehicle. The truck had come to rest at such a crazy angle she had trouble climbing out.

"My purse! My phone." She said weakly, her voice inching up in pitch, as it usually did when she was stressed.

"My friend will get them for you. Let's get you out of here."

By then she could hear sirens approaching.

They waded through the snow and started up the embankment, her arms being braced by her rescuer and his friend. The going was tough in the crusted snow and she lost her footing more that once. Each time she faltered someone grasped her arm. She thanked each one in turn.

At the top of the incline she looked back at her slightly-twisted, thirteen-year-old Tacoma and knew it was totalled. Its name was Silver Shadow.

#

The EMTs stepped in and steered her into the ambulance.

Once in the ambulance they began checking her vitals. 

Someone asked if there was someone to notify and she asked them to call her son. By now recent events had begun to take a toll and she was beginning to get foggy. When asked for her son's phone number, her mind went blank. By now she had her phone and purse, so she unlocked her phone and asked the person to call, giving him her son's name.

The EMT taking her blood pressure was a young, fresh-faced and smiling. While she was waiting for him to finish with his reading, she began to wonder about the guys who found her. Did they just drive around town looking for ways to help? It was possible, but not likely. It was probably due to the unwritten code of the road in Alaska--If someone is in trouble, you help. Sometimes the dangers, especially cold, were life-threatening. But not today. She also noticed that no one gave their last names. To avoid any lawsuits? Or just the law?

 When the measurement-taking was done, they wanted to take her to the hospital for more tests. She declined. She had to decline more than once. She knew she was OK. Best to keep the doctors out of it. And minimize costs. 

Exiting the ambulance, she found her son Mac waiting. He had grown tall and was dark-haired and brown-eyed like her. They looked at each other for a moment, neither of them were much for words.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "May I have a hug?"

They hugged. And the world seemed calmer. 

"I'll wait in my car for you."

#

Next a police officer wanted to talk her. She answered his questions as clearly and simply as possible. "I was doing about 40 miles per hour." "The road was empty, except for me." "Going down the hill I lost traction." "There were no passengers."

"You'll have to wait for us to pull out your vehicle, if there's anything you want to get out of it."

She nodded and headed for son Mac's car. 

It felt good to sit down.

From time to time he asked if she wanted anything from the convenience store where they were parked. She declined, preferring to let her system calm down.

It took a long time for them to get her truck back on the road and a long line of vehicles formed, waiting to get through. She could imagine the drivers' irritation, but from her vantage point it was just cars in a line.

She and Mac sat quietly, each wrapped up in his/her own thoughts.

#

Daisy looked back over the morning's happenings.

It all started when she got lost and kept taking the wrong turns. She was trying to deliver her truck to be transported to the lower 48, but missed the location more than once. With each miss she became more desperate. She had to be there by 8:30 AM. This last miss was the last straw.

Mac, who was now forty-three, was finally making a break for independence. He had accepted a job in the Midwest and wanted her to move as well, to be nearby. She loved her home in Anchorage. It was hers and the first real home she had ever had. She loved the light coming in the windows, and its quiet. But Mac needed to make his own life, she knew that. And, to tell the truth, her life had become stale. Over thirty years in the same place had grown pale. 

But her truck was a problem. It cost thousands to ship to Tacoma; and once there she would have to drive it across country. She was used to driving and was a good driver. However, long stretches of road required a lot of concentration. She wasn't sure she could do it. 

Looking at the whole situation, this was the best solution. Not one she would have chosen but one that worked.