How Quickly Things Can Change

HOW QUICKLY THINGS CAN CHANGE

I knew it was late in the season. I knew that I shouldn’t go camping this time of the year. I knew the weather was unpredictable in the mountains. I knew all of these things, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away. Far away. And I needed to be alone, to figure things out.

And how did that work out for you, Elle? Not well, not well at all …

*

“I don’t give a shit what you say. I’m not going to prostitute myself so that you can get the account!”

Jason, my current amore, looked both panicky and pissed. “I’m not asking you to sleep with him, Elle. I’m asking you to come to dinner, and, you know, ‘be nice’ to him. His account will keep us in champagne and fast cars for years.”

“What do you mean by ‘be nice?’” I said, using air quotes around the term. I crossed my arms across my chest, and stared at him, hard.

“God, you are so difficult!”

“I’m difficult! You’re inferring that I make that old handsy prick happy by ‘being nice,’ and not lose my shit when he puts his hand on my ass! Again! Are. You. Kidding. Me?”

“He did that once, Elle, and I’m pretty sure he got the message loud and clear when you grabbed his hand and bent his wrist back. But he specifically requested that you join us for dinner tomorrow night. He says that there is no deal without you.” He looked at me, beseechingly. “Please. If I don’t get this account, I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to make partner. I need this, Elle. Please!”

“Holy fuck, Jason! You are such an asshole. What about how he treated me last time?” I turned away and walked into the bedroom. Jason followed me.

“ Please, Baby. Please. I wouldn’t ask you unless it was really important.”

“No.”

“No! What the fuck to you mean ‘No?’ You can’t just say no to me. Carpenter Inc. is my whale, my unicorn, my ‘very important account.’ Accounts this large are rarely up for grabs. And he wants to give the account to me, but you have to be there. You have to do this for me!”

“No, I don’t have to do anything for you.” I looked at him, holding his gaze. “And, you know what? I think we’re done here. For good. I need you to leave.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not leaving. This is where I need to be.”

“No, this is not where you need to be. Where you need to be is gone. This is my home, and you’re just a visitor. So get out. Now. I’ll pack your shit and call you when you can come pick it up.” I was done. So done. Jason was such a mistake.

He put up his hands, palms facing me in a slow down gesture. “You’re just upset. I get it. Let’s go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.” He took a couple of steps towards me.

“Stop! Right now!”

His whole face changed. “What are you going to do if I don’t?” His eyes had turned cold, hard, and threatening. This was Crazy Scary Jason. I did not like Crazy Scary Jason.

“I don’t know, call the cops? Get a restraining order? Call Izzy?”

I whistled, and Izzy, my mixed breed dog — my very large mixed breed dog — came tearing into the room, full throttle. She skidded to a stop, and stood beside me, looking from me, to Jason, and back to me. She stiffened, and I could tell she sensed the tension in the room.

Jason looked from me to Izzy. “You bitch.”

I looked at him. “Which one of us?” I asked.

He ignored me. “This isn’t over!”

“Yes, Jason, it is.” 

He turned on his heel, and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

My heart was pounding, but man, I was so ready to to be done with Jason. He was not a nice man.  

I turned to Izzy. “Why do I always pick the assholes?” She looked at me, and I could swear she was shaking her head as if saying “I don’t know.”

I picked up my phone and pulled up the instructions for changing the entry code on my front door. Don’t judge, but it was just too expensive to have to keep changing the locks every time I broke up with my loser-de-jour, so I had installed locks with keypad entrance codes and, violà, no more keys. Before I would give the guy a key, and then, we’d break up, and then I’d have to change the locks because I couldn’t be sure the guy hadn’t made copy of my key. But now — just find the instructions online, and wham, no more losers. I quickly changed the front door, the garage door, and the back door lock codes.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of big black garbage bags, and headed back to the bedroom. Jason and I had been dating for about four months, exclusively for about two. He didn’t have that much of his crap here, but he had enough. I’d given him a drawer for his stuff, and a bit of room in the closet. I yanked open the drawer first, dumping all his belongings into the bag, not caring. Wrinkled, folded, not my problem. I moved to the closet next. Jason had a couple of business suits, shirts, as well as casual clothes hanging at one end of the closet. My hangers stayed, his suits and jeans were stuffed into the bag, along with his ties, shirts, belts, and shoes. Next stop, the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet, and used my forearm to shovel all of his toiletries into the bag. Man had more beauty products than me!  

I did a quick sweep of the house, throwing in the occasional found item — his stupid foot massager, his sushi mat, the ridiculous painting he bought me for my birthday and had insisted I hang in the living room. All of it, in the bags. When I was finished, I put the two bags at the front door. I would call Jason tomorrow morning, and leave his junk on the front lawn to pick up at his leisure. 

I felt better, but I was still pissed. How could he ask me to be “nice” to that old bastard?  Especially after the last time? I was so pissed! But Handsy McGee wasn’t the problem, he was just a symptom. The problem was Jason. He had so little respect for me that he thought I’d let some old fart feel me up so that he, Jason Kinney, could land the account, my self esteem be damned. Fucker!

I was restless and needed to do something, go somewhere.

Camping, I thought. I’ll go camping.  

It was early November, not really prime camping season, but Izzy and I could go car camping, no problem. I had all the equipment — a good sleeping bag, a heater, a stove, propane. My Tacoma had a truck cap, and I’d built a sleeping platform in it, for just this situation — when I wanted to be alone. Besides, Izzy loved being outdoors where she could run around free, and explore at will. That settled it. We both needed to get away, so we were going to leave first thing in the morning.

I woke up before sunrise, and gathered all my gear together, and loaded it into my Tacoma. I checked the weather. It was supposed to be warm, above seasonal, clear, and calm. A perfect couple of days for camping in the mountains. We were set. 

I texted Jason, and told him to come pick up his shit, or I would put it at the curb with a “Free To Good Home” sign on it. Oh, I wished.

When we walked outside to the truck, the sun was just peeking up in the east. The air was crisp, like autumn weather was supposed to be. The sky was cloudless and clear. It was perfect weather for fall camping.  

I opened the door and Izzy jumped in and perched herself in the passenger seat, raring to go. I hopped in, fastened Izzy’s car harness, buckled myself in, and started the truck. Good to go.

The campground I was heading for was my favourite, Powder National Forest — pristine wilderness, fresh mountain air, nature on display all around. The perfect remedy to forget what an asshole Jason was.

I drove north, heading for the foothills. I opened the passenger window so Izzy could get her sniffs. Why do dogs love sticking their heads out of the windows of speeding cars? One of nature’s mysteries.

It was about a three hour drive. Just before we started the drive into the foothills, we stopped for gas, and a pee break for Izzy. After I filled the truck I moved it away from the pumps and parked to the side of the gas station to let Izzy out. Just as I was following her into the field at the rear of the station, a giant Hummer screeched in behind me, effectively blocking me in.

Jason.

He jumped out of his behemoth of a truck. He was dressed all in black. He was good looking — it was one of the things that had attracted me to him, with his dark hair, dark eyes, olive complexion. Right now, though, he radiated menace.

I just looked at him.

“Surprised to see me?” he sneered.

“Have you been following me?”

His sneer grew wider. “Yup. Since you texted me to pick up my stuff.”

“Asshole.”  

I whistled for Izzy. She came bounding, stopping short when she saw Jason.

“Move your stupid Hummer,” I said. “And don’t follow me anymore.”

“No, Elle, you’re not going anywhere. We’re going to talk.” He took a couple of steps towards me. Izzy growled. He stopped.

“No, we’re not going to talk. We’re done. And I’m leaving.”

“You’re not leaving until I say you’re leaving.”

Right then an older man stuck his head around the corner of the gas station where we were parked.  

“Everything okay, here?” he asked looking at me.

“We’re fine, Pops. Just having a conversation,” said Jason, his gaze never leaving my face.

The man looked over at Jason, then back at me. “Is that true?”

I looked over to Jason, then back to the good samaritan. “No. It’s not true. Jason Kinney—“ I said pointing my finger at him, “will not let me leave.”

Jason sent me a look of pure hatred and anger.

The older man turned to look at Jason. “Well, son, I’m the law around here, and I guess you should let the lady go. How about you come in an have a cup of coffee, and we sit for awhile, giving this nice lady time to drive ahead?”

“This is bullshit.” With that, Jason turned on his heel, jumped in the Hummer, backed up, and peeled out of the parking lot. I watched him disappear the way he had come.

I turned to the man. “Thank you for that. I’m sure he won’t do anything, but … well, just thank you.” I stuck out my hand, “Elle Sheppard.”

We shook hands. “I’m Sheriff Paul Beckett. You’re sure he’s going to leave you alone?”

I looked at him and shrugged. “Actually? No. But I think he’s just trying to intimidate me. Izzy and I should be okay.” I looked down and scratched her head.

I thanked the sheriff again, and Izzy and I got back into the truck. I considered turning around and going home, but that’s the way Jason had driven. No, I decided, Izzy and I were going camping. And Jason Kinney was not going to stop us.

As we drove into the foothills the weather quickly changed. The sky grew cloudy, the temperature dropped, and the wind picked up. Before long it started to snow. At first they were big fluffy flakes that were swirled around by the winds. Then they turned into smaller flakes that were sticking to the road, the ground, my windshield, not melting. At that moment, I was eternally happy that my dad had harangued me into getting my winter tires installed last week.  

I slowed down, well below the speed limit. It was the first snow of the year, and the road was slippery. I flipped the truck into four-wheel drive as I crept up the mountain.  

I was concentrating ahead, looking out through the windshield, when something hit me from behind. My truck skidded, but I regained control. I looked to the rearview mirror. The grill of Jason’s Hummer filled my vision.

“Son of a bitch!”

He bumped me again. I skidded again. He backed off. I stopped the truck in the middle of the road, and flew out the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Snow and wind tore the words away.

He stopped and got out, walking towards me, leaving his truck idling.

“I told you, this isn’t over,” he yelled.

Izzy was aggressively barking, but she was tethered to her harness and couldn’t get out of the truck. I was on my own. I had no desire to let Jason any closer to me. I backed away towards my open truck door.  

“Elle, just come tonight, and then you’ll never see me again.” He said, still walking towards me, snow and wind buffeting his clothes, whipping his hair in the wind.

“No, Jason. I’m not doing anything with you, ever again.” I looked at him. He was getting closer. My boot slipped on the snow, and I went down on one knee.  

He was on me in two steps. I barely had time to get back up before he grabbed my upper arms, standing in front of me.

“I gave you a chance, Elle.” His eyes were dark pools of anger and hatred. “Now you’re going to learn why no one says no to me.”

I pushed him off of me. He was wearing leather soled shoes, and he went down on his back, his feet slipping out from under him. I turned and bolted for the truck, jumped in and locked the door and drove. I didn’t look back. I pulled my phone out. No signal. 

Damn it! 

The Hummer appeared in my rear view mirror again, swerving all over the road. We were on a twisting, curving road. It was narrow, barely two lanes, only a deep gully on one side, and a drop into the forest below, on the other. There had been no other cars since it had started snowing. I was alone, and Jason was gaining on me. 

I pushed the gas a little harder. The wheels held, and I opened a larger gap between the two vehicles. Snow and wind were rocking the truck.

Jason was gaining, again narrowing the distance between us. I tried to urge the truck little faster, but the wheels spun in the deepening snow.  

BANG!

Jason rammed me again. The truck swerved a bit, but straightened out.

BANG!

He hit me again, this time harder.  I held the tuck straight, and took my foot off the gas. 

My God! I thought, “Jason is really trying to kill me.

I looked over at Izzy. She was watching me intently.   

I looked in the rearview mirror. Jason was accelerating towards me again. I steered across the other lane, away from the precipice, towards the gully. This change caused Jason to only catch the corner of my bumper, causing him spin out, careening towards the edge, out of control. In less than a second he had disappeared over the side.  

Heart pounding in my chest, I stopped and slowly reversed back to where the Hummer had disappeared.  

Jumping out of the truck, I ran to the side of the road. The wind was howling, the snow was mixed with pellets of ice, stinging my face, swirling my hair around my head. I looked down the incline. There, thirty feet below me, was the Hummer, on its side. I could see its path down to where it lay. There was no movement or sign of life from the vehicle below.

“JASON!” I yelled. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”  The wind whipped my words away.

JASON! ARE YOU ALRIGT?”

No reply.

“I’M GOING TO GET HELP!” I yelled, turning back to the Tacoma.

I started the slow and dangerous act of turning the truck around. I would be of no help to anyone if I went over the edge as well. When I finally got the truck pointing down the mountain, I saw red and blue lights coming towards me from around the corner. I jumped out of the truck and waved the police car down.

It was Sheriff Beckett. I ran towards him, slipping and sliding on the road.

“Help! Jason’s gone over the edge! I think he’s hurt! He’s not answering me!”

He picked up the radio and and called in our location, called for search and rescue, and an ambulance.

We walked to the edge of the road and looked down. There was still no movement from the Hummer.

“We can’t just stand here. We have to do something!” Jason had tried to kill me, but that didn’t mean I could just let him die.

The Sheriff looked at me. “There’s nothing you can do right now. We have to wait for Search and Rescue.” 

Nearly an hour passed before they arrived. Luckily the weather had cleared, and they were able to Medevac Jason to the nearest hospital. He was conscious, but he hadn’t had his seatbelt on, and had bounced around the interior of his vehicle like a ping-pong ball, resulting in numerous broken bones, cuts, lacerations, and a probable concussion.

I found out that Sheriff Beckett had still been sitting the cafe at the gas station, and had seen Jason drive by, heading the same way I had been going. He had had to rush back to the station and get his car to give chase. The sudden mountain storm had slowed him down.

*

Things had not turned out well for me. An ex-boyfriend had tried to kill me and my dog. And we had barely escaped.  

But things had turned out considerably worse for Jason — he had been arrested at the hospital and charged with attempted murder.