"No Assembly Required"

           I was driving down I-480 North at 75 m p h (shoot me I was speeding). I was on my way to work. My job is to put screws into modules for eight hours a day. Sounds boring, but with 90's Alternative Rock in the background, I put the screws in to the rhythm of the music. But, today, I was driving on 480 towards Twinsburg and I saw a small speck in the sky and it wasn't Chritopher Reeve. It looks likes it's going in an arc. I remember from driving school, the instructors taught us to always keep our eyes on the road. Don't look at the ads on the side of the road or the birds, but this wasn't a bird. Usually I look at the darker spot in the middle of roads. But, the dot is curving like when we threw baseballs as kids. It got to it's cusp and started heading downwards, closer to me. I'm single. No girlfriend, no kids, not even a dog. I use to have dogs, but that's a different story. Then, this dot starts going downwards and I'm getting closer to it and it's getting closer to me and I see it's flying toward this side of the median; the side closer to me. Then, I realize it's not a dot, but a car. An upside down car and it isn't Knight Industry Two Thousand, it looks more like a Volvo. And I realize it's heading closer to me, so I slow down to 65 m p h and turn on the double blinkers. Good thing I did. The laws of physics don't care about prayer or dreams, they just care about the laws of physics. The Volvo crashed upside down in front of me and I slammed on my breaks, which is dangerous is snow and/or ice, but my breaks took. And the Volvo bounced like a rubber ball a few miles down the highway. And so, due to my upbringing, I pulled over, but my car in park, got out, closed the door, and hit lock from my key. I heard the normal double deep. Then, I ran countertraffic to see if these people were still alive. But, white running, I saw a blue box, which I knew had a phone inside. 

           I stopped and opened the box. 

           “Operator. Is there an emergency” said a woman's voice.

           “Yes,” I said, “about one mile south of here.”

           “We're sending police, ambulance, and firemen.”

           “How long 'til they get there?” I asked.

           “About five minutes,” she said and I knew what I had to do. I hung up the receiver and ran like a chigi from a flea pill and made it to the scene in about two minutes. I heard a tapping on the driver window, but knew I couldn't wait for the jaws of life. I kicked the side window in and out; quick and hard. Then, the glass spattered toward the driver. I knew they could get cut, but time was of the essence since gas is in the gas tank and a fire could start any moment. I then dove through the window and somehow found the button to unfasten the safety belt (thank God they were wearing it). So, I'm about 205 l b s. But, this personal is about 400 and I couldn't lift her and the door was slammed shut. I also wasn't sure if anyone else was in the car yet because of the smoke. 

           I used to hate adrenaline and cortisol, but these moments are why we have them. So, I lifted them through the window with my legs, both of us facing away from the window. I managed to get her out a little bit at a time and she did an accidental summersault. But, she lost consciousness and was beside her car on the grass. So, I pulled her by the right ankle away from the crash. 

           I then went back to the Volvo and crawled back inside to see if anyone else was inside. I felt on the passenger's side and there was nothing. I reached for the back and felt all the seats; nothing. Then, I started climbing back out the window and I started to hear sirens, which was good. Then, when I got out, I heard a small but loud whimper of fright, so I climbed back into the Volvo and felt the floors and found a small dog in the place where feet go on the passanger side and I lifted the dog out and went out the window again. The sirens were getting louder. Then, I took the dog to the lady and checked A B C. Maybe the reader is unfamiliar with A B C. In Cardiopulminary Resusitation, A B C stands for Airway, Breathing, Circulation. So I looked at their chest and realized this was a woman and she was taking shallow breaths. So, I straightened her airway and she breathed better. I checked her corotid artery and her heartrate was irregular but beating and suddenly, both stopped. So, I ripped her shirt off and the dog is shaking and I feel two fingers from the bottom of the sternum and I pump thirty times, cover her nose, breathe two times and continue the cycle as the sirens get louder. Then, the inside of her car catches on fire and I see the fire truck, police, and ambulance about a mile up the road, but they're having trouble because of the rubberneckers. Goddamn rubberneckers. So, I keep pumping, breathing, and praying until I see a helicopter land and the EMTs take over. They lift her on a stetcher into the ambulance continuing the CPR and the fire people get through, hook up their hoses, and put out the fire. But, then, I see the dog with its dog eyes staring back at me, so I show it the back of my hand and she sniffs it and I pet her back and am able to lift her into my arms. I start heading back to my car, but the police stop me and ask me what happened. I tell them what I've just told you and I sign a sheet of paper verifying what I've said. Then, I start to walk back and the policeman tells me he can give me and my dog a ride back to my car.

           “Thank you, but this isn't my dog, it's her dog,” but he gives me a ride back to my car and me and the dog both wind up driving to my job assembling modules and I let the dog releave herself before I start my shift, park in the shade, and start my shift. I'll have to walk her again at lunch. I'm sure she misses her master. 

           Then, I realize I'll need to give the dog some of my lunch too. So, I do that. She's a small dog and eats a little of my sandwich meat. Then, at the days end, I walk her and take her to my home. I go out to the market and buy dog food, a dog blanket, toys, but I'm not sure if I'm getting the right kinds. Then, I realize, maybe she needs to see a vet the way her Mom needed to see a doctor and I look in the yellow pages.