Never Cross the Double Line

I saw her as I topped the hill, walking down the center of the road, just as if it was a path to the lake, or a walk in the park I thought to myself.  My window was down and I could hear her chanting something, but couldn’t quite make out the words. I pressed the gas and made a quick descent down the hill, threw the brakes on, shifted into park and jumped out of the car.

“Never cross on the double line. Never cross on the double line.”

She couldn’t have been more than three years old. She wore a pink dress and white flowers, a play dress, my mother would call it. Simple, plain, a shift approved for playing in the yard, rolling in the grass, sloshing in puddles. A play dress. Play clothes, not school clothes.

Where the hell were her parents? I didn’t want to scare her, but I had to get her out of the road, as many cars tended to speed through this area, despite the fact that the limit was thirty-five.

“Never cross on the double line.”

“Hey there sweetie,” I said in my best sing song I’m-not-a-monster voice, or at least a tone that didn’t sound like the boogie man.

She stopped and looked over at me, noticing me and my car for the first time, despite the fact that gravel flew when I screeched to a stop.

“Hey Mister. Never cross on the double line.”

“You are so right sweetie.” I was moving closer as I spoke, almost within grabbing distance but I didn’t want to resort to that and end up with a kicking, screaming kid on my hands.

“You know what? If I pick you up, you won’t be crossing the double line, right?

She stared at me thoughtfully, obviously not sure what to think of this stranger, but showing that built-in innocence all children have, or at least ones who had been loved and protected.

“Maybe. But I must not cross the double line.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t. Let’s make it a game. We’ll count to three, I won’t cross the double line, and I’ll pick you up so you don’t. Okay?” I wasn’t sure this was going to work at all, but I still could do the snatch and run.

“Okay.”

The moment she gave the thumbs up, I lifted her under the arms, held her to my chest and headed for the medium.

“Yeah, we made it!” I was still hoping there wouldn’t be any screaming or crying involved in this rescue.

“We did! We made it! We made it! No double lines!”

As I sat her onto the seat of my car, I realized I was sweating like I had run a marathon, and I was just as winded. Must have been holding my breath the whole time.

No sooner had I put her in my car that an old beat-up truck came flying over the hill, swerved and came to a stop, with some difficulty, even with my car door. The truck was once red but more rust than paint job now. You could hear the gearstick as she slammed the truck in park, just as she was jumping out of the cab and running around the front towards my car. The same routine I had just done.

I’m sure my hair was wild, curling up on the ends from the sweat bath I just had. Not sure why I was worried about my fucking hair at a time like this, when I wanted to chastise this young woman for allowing her child to roam the road.

“Willow are you okay? You okay baby?” She grabbed her up and was examining every inch of her limbs like that’s all that would have been injured if she continued her not-cross-the-double-line journey.

Willow. What a wonderful name I thought as I stared at the love energy between mother and daughter. Willow seemed a little startled by all the attention, perhaps bracing herself for the trouble yet to come for her wandering ways. But I don’t think the little girl had any idea she had done anything wrong or been in danger at all.

“I wanted to pick the flowers Mama. There’s the yellow brick road to the flowers but it has a double line.”

The mother jerked her head around towards me, as if noticing me for the first time. Her eyes were as round as saucers and I swear I heard or saw the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

“Was she in the middle of the road?”

“Double line,” I answered.

I’ve never seen a wax impression of someone’s face, but if I had I would say this mother’s face was melting, sliding into the realization of what had just happened. The fear grabbed hold of her whole body and for a moment I thought she might fall with the little girl in her arms.

I put my hands on her shoulders to steady her, and as if she felt a sudden chill, her whole body shook as I watched one single tear roll down her cheek. Just one, The rest were dammed up in those saucer eyes, and I could tell she wouldn’t let another one escape the reservoir.

My hands were still on her shoulders as she moved them up and back, seeming to grow two inches in the effort.

“I’m not sure I can talk right now… but thank you.” It was all she could do to keep it together, not wanting her emotions to flood out in front of a stranger. Or maybe she didn’t want to have a complete meltdown in front of Willow. More than likely the latter.

“No need. You take that beautiful girl on home.” I realized my hands were still on her shoulders at that moment and awkwardly jerked them away, my arms recoiling towards my chest like I had just touched a hot stove. Hell my hands even felt hot as if that fear energy that came out of the young mother had been sucked out through my fingers. Shit now I felt lightheaded.

“Okay. I’m gonna go.” I had to sit down or fall down, so I might as well make my escape before the air caught on fire too. Lots of emotions and energy swirling, both of us visualizing what could have happened. I shook my head, wanting to dislodge that visual from my mind, throw it in the burn pile never to be seen again.

“I can’t thank you enough. Oh sorry.” She thrust her right hand out, grabbing my arm with her left, and pumped my arm like an old well pump.

“I’m Joab. Thank you thank you, thank you.. Look, I’ll reach out when we both aren’t in shock and can find our voices.” Those saucer eyes were filled with warmth that looked like melted chocolate, with bright little yellow stars scattered in the galaxy with no pattern whatsoever.

I flushed a deep crimson red as I realized I had been staring into those eyes for, what, a full minute? Could have been for 49 minutes for all I knew.

I dragged my boot through the gravel in a quarter circle as if I were about to… bow? I was. I was going to bow. My right arm lay across my torso, and my left arm was rising into the air. What the fuck? I must be in shock, or in dementia, or in cray cray pastures. I kept telling myself

just get in the car, don’t cross the double line, just get the hell out of here, but don’t cross the double line.

“I’m Elijah. I live just up the hill. Bye.”

What? Was I fifteen? Something had just happened that hadn’t happened in a very long time, and I didn’t even have to cross the road or the double line to experience it. There was strong chemistry and my little head was standing at attention. Just get in the car before she sees exactly how she made you feel, you old fool.

“Oh I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. You can’t hide in plain sight around here.” She was making her way to the truck, trying to coral Willow who was singing some song and dancing little circles around her mother.

I eased back onto the road and headed to the post office, my original destination. I might have to sit in the car for a while before the general stands at ease.

Joab. What an odd name. I hoped to see her soon and ask where the name came from. Sounds like a good reason to check on her and Willow, right. Heavens I’m already coming up with excuses to see her again. Get ahold of yourself, Eli. You’re old enough to be her father, or maybe just older brother. That sounds better. Older yes, father no. Regardless, I was simply happy to know the old equipment was still in working order. Just don’t pass on the double line.