Wiper Blades

I pulled up to the traffic light just as it changed to yellow. I prudently stopped – I wasn’t about to run a yellow light in the rain – and the car behind me slammed on the brakes and set down on the horn. Evidently, that person had planned to run the light.  Now he would have to wait on the world’s slowest traffic light to cycle. But he would live.

My mid-size Japanese sedan was not fancy – four doors, boring beige, four cylinder engine – but it was a safe choice. It ferried me to and from my predictable job without fanfare each day. The car was reliable, but it was as vanilla as the rest of my vanilla life.

The wipers continued their steady beat – tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. It was hypnotic.  Because they were making so much noise, I was reminded that I needed to get new wiper blades. It had been on my to-do list for a couple of months now. It was unlike me to forget something so vital. I pulled out my phone and put a reminder on my calendar for Saturday when I made my weekly shopping trip. Everything in my life was so regular, so comforting, so predictable. My job was safe. My apartment was safe.  My car was safe, although I was a little concerned about the wipers. They had never made that much noise before. 

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. The light was holding red and showed no signs of changing any time soon, even though no traffic was coming in either direction on the cross street. I sighed and looked to the right. And that’s when I saw him.

The guy was standing on the corner in the heavy rain. His ball cap might be keeping the rain out of his eyes, but he was soaked to the bone. He was standing in the rain, his head down and with this thumb out. A hitchhiker! Poor guy. He was wearing a backpack that was as soaked as he was. Probably everything he owned was in that backpack. I couldn’t live like that. 

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. The light continued to hold red.

What should I do? The guy obviously held no hope that anyone would offer him a ride. He wasn’t making eye contact. He was barely even moving. He was simply standing there as the cold rain pelted him.

My safe brain said, “He made his bed. He can lie in it. You don’t owe him anything. Pretend that he isn’t there and go home.” 

But what if…

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. What if he was stranded? I hadn’t noticed any broken down vehicles around but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. What if he had a beautiful wife and young kids that he needed to get home to? It was cold and it was getting dark. They would be worried. He would thank me for giving him a ride; maybe even offer me some money for gas. I wouldn’t take it, of course, but his offer would be nice.

My safe brain snorted derisively.

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. What if he was a homeless veteran, down on his luck, no family, no friends, nowhere to go and nothing to eat. He didn’t even have a dog to keep him company, although I was fairly certain that even a dog would have enough sense to get out of the rain. What if he had given up on life because no one would show him any kindness? What if he was one moment away from committing suicide because no one cared? What if I gave him a ride? Would that show him that humanity still cared for him? Would it make any difference in his life? 

My safe brain immediately came back with a rebuttal: “No, No, and NO. Too many ‘ifs’ there. You are making things up. He’s just a guy in the rain. When the light changes, go home. Forget about him.”

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. What if I don’t give him a ride? What happens to him then? I was pretty sure that the angry driver behind me wouldn’t give him a ride, but maybe the car behind him? Surely there is a Good Samaritan in the long line of traffic waiting for the light?

My safe brain rolled its eyes (as if it had eyes to roll): “Why are you fixated on this guy? He’s just a guy. Go home.”

I sighed. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and averted my gaze. The baleful red traffic light stared at me. It showed no signs of changing, and there was still no traffic on the other street.

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. What if the guy is an angel?

My safe brain guffawed. “An angel? Seriously?”

Yes, there used to be a TV show about that! What was the name of it? Oh yes, it was “Touched by an Angel.” An angel was sent down to Earth to come into the main character’s life and influence that person to become a better person and avoid some horrible fate that was awaiting them. Yes, that was 90’s TV and I was young and impressionable and I probably never really paid attention to it, but it came to mind readily. What if the guy is an angel, sent down here to help me? If I drive away and leave him in the rain on this street corner, what will happen to me? What horrible fate is awaiting me?

“Nothing is going to happen to you. You will go home. You will use your umbrella to get from the car to the building so that you remain dry. You will use your phone to order food to be delivered to your door. You will eat and then you will go to bed. And tomorrow, you will go back to your safe job in your safe car and nothing will happen.” My safe brain knew my routine well.

But what if he really is an angel?

“What if he is a deranged serial killer running from the cops and looking for an innocent sucker to pick up him so he can overpower you and take you hostage? He’s probably got a gun tucked into his pants and would have no issues shooting you. You wouldn’t want blood on your beige interior, would you? You watched “Touched by an Angel” in the 90’s; you also watched “Criminal Minds” in the 2000’s. Those scenarios are a whole lot more likely to happen than that ridiculous angel story that you just made up. Crazy people are everywhere, but most of them don’t look like crazy people. They look like normal people who wear ball caps and pretend to be hitchhikers in the rain looking for a bleeding heart sap like you to be their next victim.” Dang, sometimes my safe brain made a lot of sense.

Tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk. Was this light ever going to change? And was it ever going to quit raining?

I looked at the guy again. He his hands were stuck in his jeans pockets now. He was hunched over, just standing there. I guess he had given up on anyone in the line of traffic giving him a ride.

As the first car in the line of traffic, he had given up on me. 

That hurt.

I couldn’t get the angel image out of my mind. 

My safe brain knew what I was about to do. “Don’t. Do. It.”

I had to do it. I lowered the passenger side window. “Hey buddy!” The guy stood motionless for a moment before looking up. He looked around and then pointed at himself with a questioning look on his face. I nodded. “Yeah, you. Do you need a ride?” I was so nervous. My insides were quivering. I was actually doing the most spontaneous thing I had ever done in my life. This would be my good deed for the day… for the week… for the entire year!

The guy was just looking at me. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t heard me (it was raining hard), I repeated “Do you need a ride?”

He shook his head. “Naw, man. I’m okay. Just waiting for the #7 bus.” He pointed to his left, and for the first time I noticed the bus stop shelter. It was full of people. Actually, it was full of women waiting for the next bus. He was being chivalrous by letting the women stand under the shelter while he stood in the rain.

My safe brain fell in the floor, laughing so hard it was crying. I was suddenly glad it was getting dark so the guy could not see my cheeks turning as red as the traffic light. Embarrassment flooded over me faster than the rain was flooding over the guy. How stupid could I be? Now I look like the deranged killer looking to pick up an unsuspecting soul for my next victim. 

“But… I saw you with your thumb out. Hitchhiking.”

“Naw, man. I’ve got hitchhiker’s thumb. Been that way all my life. Just looks like I’m trying to hitchhike.” He held up his right hand. His thumb was standing straight up.

I felt like a complete idiot. My safe brain was still snickering. To cover myself, I nodded and waved and started to roll up the window.  

The wipers continued their monotonous tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk tunk.

“Hey, man. Can I give you some advice?” The guy was standing there in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, and wanting to give me advice?

“Sure,” I called back.

“You need to get those windshield wiper blades replaced soon.”

The light finally turned green and I drove home. My safe brain howled with laughter all the way. And I didn’t even hear the wipers any more.