The Girl Of My Dreams

And then, a few days later I woke up one morning and opened my eyes. And saw clearly for the first time in months. The vision was gone. But in its place was Knowledge. I knew what she meant, it was crystal clear. She wanted me to get better, to go on. She didn't want me to forget her, but simply to remember our time together as a gift. A wonderful thing in a life that could be filled with more wonderful things.

I was out of the hospital in a week, and the company generously gave me my job back. My life was almost normal, except for the one tremendous void. I began to look for things to do, to keep my mind from dwelling on it. And that's how I ended up at the ski area.

When I came out of my reverie I had tears streaming down my cheeks and I was sobbing. Other people in the lounge had moved away from me and were staring, and I realized I'd better get out of there. So I sucked it up and headed for the car, thinking what a terrible idea this had been.

I went south on route 8, intending to hit the Mass Pike and take it east to I-91, then go south to my home in central Connecticut. But the flurries were still coming and route 8 is a long winding drive along the Massachusetts Berkshires, so I had a bright idea. I knew there was a road that headed east from North Adams all the way until it intersected 91. The old Mohawk Trail. I'd never been on that road, but I figured it might be shorter and would get me to 91 quicker. And so I turned at the sign that said, "Route 2 East, Mohawk Trail".

Even though the flurries got heavier I wasn't worried. I had an Outback with four wheel drive which had gotten me through time and again. But I soon discovered that Route 2 is not a modern highway, it's a winding two-lane road through the eastern Berkshires. And it includes some serious uphill and downhill stretches, including one just east of North Adams, where it heads down the side of a deep valley to a switchback, then goes up the other side.

But I'd managed to navigate that okay when I happened to glance at the dash and realized, my gas tank was less than a quarter full. Now I was pissed at myself. It was dark by now and I could see that this road went through some really remote country. But then I thought, "There is at least one good-sized town between here and 91, Charlemont, and anyway, this car will go a long way on a quarter tank." So I headed on.

Things were going okay for a while, but the snow was getting heavier, more than just flurries. And I hadn't passed a single car going the other direction, nor were there any tracks in the fresh snow in front of me. And now it was piling up, soon at least three inches and coming down even harder.

But I pressed on, not having any real problems other than the need to go slow, but I was certainly getting nervous. And I remember the one thought I had about Katie; that I was really glad she wasn't with me now.

At one point, for a few minutes, I thought I saw the glow of headlights behind me, but eventually they faded into darkness again. And I wondered what another car would be doing out here in this.

I didn't know it then, but there is a steep, several mile long downgrade along the side of a ridge, where the road goes down to the Deerfield River in Charlemont. But I found out suddenly when I started to plunge down it. I was able to slow my speed to a crawl, and was almost inching along. Until I reached a steep spot with a sharp turn to the left.

Suddenly the car lost traction with all four wheels, and I was sliding almost sideways. At first it was like slow motion, but the car was picking up speed like a skier would, until, with a thud and a clang the left rear slammed against the guardrail. I sat there stunned for a moment, until I finally uttered a loud "Oh shit!" in disgust. But I figured, hopefully, that the car could still go on okay, and I was pointing down the hill in the right direction. So I stepped carefully on the gas. And was greeted with nothing but a shudder and a whine from a couple of the tires. Followed by another curse from me.

I knew I had to get out and see what was wrong, so I opened the door and stepped out. And in an instant was flat on my back, my head having hit a glancing blow on the road, cushioned only by the several inches of snow. Under the snow was a coating of solid ice. Holding on to the car I hauled myself up, managed to grab my ski poles from the back seat and inched my way up the hill. And there I discovered, my rear bumper was hung up on the guard rail.

In daylight on a nice day I might have been able to jack the car up to free it, but at night in a snowstorm it wasn't going to happen. I knew right then I was stuck there until the weather cleared or someone came along who could help. But at least, I could stay warm in the car. Except that I was almost out of gas. Dammit! And I could already tell that it was getting colder.

Then I remembered my cell phone. I could call for help! Maybe. But when I turned it on all I got was a blinking "No Service" message. In those hills that would be more expected than not.

In a total funk I settled back in the seat and took stock. I had a blanket, some extra clothes in the suitcase and my ski parka, in addition to the jacket I'd changed into. And I had a few snacks that I always brought for the trip. I could make it through the night. But I'd need to ration the gas! That would be a balancing act. The more I ran the engine the sooner it would run out. But I couldn't let it get cold; then I'd waste gas warming it up again so I could get heat. I finally decided I should run it a few minutes every half hour or so.

But those thoughts vanished when I noticed in the mirror, a dim glow behind me. Headlights! Perhaps help, maybe a plow. Perhaps at least a ride. Perhaps another accident. And what the hell were they doing here at all?

I watched in my side mirror as the car topped the last bump above me and started down the slope where I'd lost control. It wasn't sliding, just coming straight down. But I could see it was going faster and faster, the driver obviously not having any braking on the icy road. And it wasn't till the car was only 50 feet or so away that I realized, it was going to hit me!

On it came. It all happened in a second, but somehow it seemed like slow motion. At the last moment the front end veered to the left, just enough to miss the rear of my car, but then veered back wildly as the driver tried vainly to correct. And there was a loud crunch as the right front fender hit my left front, a glancing blow as the car careened on down the hill. But the impact was enough to set it spinning, and it snapped around a tight one and a half turns before the back end slammed hard into the guard rail with a loud metallic bang!

It ended up about 50 feet below me, facing more or less uphill, the headlights almost in my eyes. I had been so sure the car was going to plow right into me that I sat stunned and shaking, catching my breath. But as I calmed down a bit I began to wonder about the other driver. The lights were still on, but there was no movement that I could tell, although I couldn't see much with the glare.

I waited a few minutes, but nothing happened, except that I thought the lights flickered a bit, but with the heavy snow I couldn't be sure. And I began to wonder if I should go down to see if they were all right, although I didn't relish the thought of getting out again with the snow and the icy roadway. But after another couple of minutes I knew there was no choice.

I grabbed my ski poles again, zipped up my jacket, pulled on my gloves and cap, took a deep breath and opened the door. And the first thing I noticed was, it had really gotten colder. But I sucked it up and made my way around the car to the guard rail, where I realized that even the front fender was almost touching it, due to the sideways shove of the impact.

With the help of the rail I was able to inch my way towards the other car, and suddenly, I noticed the stillness. There was no wind and I could actually hear the snow falling. And then it struck me, the other car wasn't running, and the lights were still on. Not a good sign.

When I got there I couldn't see anything because of the headlights, but when my eyes adjusted I peered in. And saw nothing. It looked like the driver's seat was empty. But when I put my face right up to the glass I could see in the glow from the dashboard that there was a small person huddled there. It looked almost like a child. And then I heard noises, a muffled sobbing. I tapped on the glass but got no response, so I grabbed the handle and yanked open the door, relieved that it wasn't locked. And the tear-streaked face of a young woman looked up at me with a gasp of surprise! "Who are you?" she squeaked.

"I'm the other car," I said not wanting to mention the accident since I realized she had done a great job and almost missed me. "See? Up the road in your headlights."

"Oh god," she said, "I hit you!" And she put her face into her hands.

I quickly re-assured her that it was all right, I wasn't mad, and that she had done all she could. "After all," I finished, "I crashed before you got here with no one in front of me!"

That seemed to help a little and she said, "Well anyway, I'm so sorry. But I'm ok, at least, I'm not hurt, just shaken up I guess." But then she looked up, eyes wide, and said, "What about you?"

Again, I assured her I was fine, and that I would have been gone already, but the car was hung up on the guardrail. Then I said, "But your car isn't running and your lights are on. Better turn them off or you'll drain the battery!" And suddenly she sobbed again.

"I tried to start it and it won't go! It's happened once or twice before, but why now?" And she stomped her foot on the floor. Then she shut off the lights, and we both realized instantly how dark it was! I could barely see her.

This was not looking good. I said to her, "Maybe you better come up with me, I don't have much gas, but at least the engine runs and I can keep it a little warm until it runs out." And I suddenly shivered. It really was cold!

But she said, "No, that's okay, I'll be alright. I don't want to bother you. And I don't know you!"

Dammit, she was more scared of me than of freezing! I didn't want to push but I told her. "Well, I need to get out of this cold. And I do have a blanket and some extra clothes and a parka and I can keep the car warm, for a while anyway. It gets very cold in these hills, might go below zero before morning. So if you change your mind, just blow your horn and I'll come help you. The road is a sheet of ice under the snow. And I could use the company. It's gonna be a long night!"

But she just looked up and quietly, like she didn't want to say it, told me, "Thank you, but it's okay. I'll be fine."

I shook my head. I knew that wasn't true, but what could I do. I quickly closed her door and scrambled back to my car as fast as I could. By the time I got inside my teeth were chattering, and I quickly started it and turned the heat on high, but it took 15 minutes before I thawed out, and I could practically see the gas gauge going down.

By putting the passenger's seat down I managed to scramble into the back seat and got the blanket and the parka and the warm clothes I had from the suitcase in the rear. I changed socks and put on two dry pairs, then an extra shirt and settled in to try and wait out the night. I decided to sleep, if possible, so I slumped down and closed my eyes.

And it worked, because the next thing I knew I was startled awake by the sound of a car horn! When I looked at the clock on the dash I figured it was over an hour since I'd spoken with her, and my car was cold so I could only imagine what hers was like. I started the car and as I'd thought the air was cold, but I hoped it would warm up by the time we got back.

When I got there she was almost hysterical. She blubbered, "Oh I'm so sorry! I thought I could do it, I really did! But I don't have anything but the clothes I wore skiing this morning and they're still a little damp. And it's so cold! Oh god, I can barely move my hands! And my feet are frozen!"

It was cold alright; I was guessing it was near zero and probably going even lower. The snow had stopped and the sky was clearing, a precursor of much more rapid cooling. I took off my gloves, dry because I'd put on a spare pair, and gave them to her. I knew she'd have to hang on to me and the guard rail to even make it to the car. I told her to grab my jacket pocket with one hand and the railing with the other and we worked our way up the hill as quickly as possible. I couldn't get her in the passenger's side because the car was almost against the rail, so I let her in the driver's seat and quickly hopped in the back. There was already warmth pouring from the heater and she needed it bad.

When she'd gotten in the car she was gasping and almost sobbing, and I knew she was terrified, but as she thawed out a bit she calmed down. And after a few minutes she turned and looked back at me. "Thank you," She said quietly. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen in the first place and made you come after me again. But I was so scared! Even before crash! I left the ski area in the morning, when the snow started to get bad, but I thought I'd be smart and take the short-cut."

"I've done it before, but when the weather was perfect, and I didn't remember how nasty this road is! But when I got warmed up I began to get sleepy. That happens to me a lot after skiing, from the cold and the adrenalin I guess. Anyway, I was drowsy and there was a rest area, so I pulled over. And I fell asleep. And when I woke up there were more than two inches of snow on my car!"

"And I got really scared right then because my car isn't that good in the snow and I knew I could never make it if it got worse. So I sat, wondering what to do and practically shaking with fear. And then I saw your lights coming."

"My first thought was to stop you and get a ride or something, but I couldn't get out to the road in time. Then I saw your tracks and I thought maybe I could drive in them and have a chance of making it out. And it worked! Except, I couldn't keep up. I could see your tail lights getting further and further and then they disappeared. But I figured my only chance was to keep going, even though the tracks were filling in already."

"And when I came over the top of the hill I saw your tail lights here and I thought you'd stopped, and maybe you could help me. I didn't realize you had crashed or were stuck. But the car started to go faster and faster and your lights went out and I couldn't slow down and I actually screamed when I realized I didn't have any control!" And she stopped for breath, but made a tremendous gasp and then a sob, and I realized she had tears streaming down her cheeks again.

But in a moment she managed to get it together and went on. "At the last second, in desperation, I yanked the wheel hard and the car actually turned! And I managed to miss smashing into you straight on, but when I tried to correct, it went the other way and that's when I hit you. And that was enough to make the car spin the other way again like a top until it slammed into the guard rail! Oh god I was so scared! I was shaking like a leaf and it took a couple of minutes before I could let go of the wheel!"

And the sobbing started again, but this time quieter and I realized it was just the tension and emotion of her ordeal finally coming out. And I leaned forward and put a hand on her arm and said quietly, "It's okay honey, this isn't good but we'll make it, and I'm glad we're not alone. Just hang on and we'll take things as they come." She turned away again and didn't say a word or react to my touch. But the crying soon stopped.

We were burning precious fuel. I wrapped myself in the blanket and waited about 10 minutes, then told her we had to shut off the engine. She still hadn't said another word, but then she looked at the gas gauge and sighed, "Oh god, only an eighth of a tank!" And she quickly turned the key. It was still only a little after 10 PM and I began to consider how we were going to make it through the night. I was pretty sure now that for whatever reason no more traffic would be along till morning.

The car had gotten very warm, and allowed us both to relax a bit, and soon she was breathing slow and deep, making me think she'd dozed off. And it wasn't long before I followed her. But soon something roused me from my sleep. It was quite cool, but still not really cold and I figured we could wait a while before starting the car again. But then I heard her moving in the front seat, and she sighed rather painfully. I asked her quietly, "Are you all right?"

She said in quivery little voice, "It's not too bad, except ... except my feet are still just freezing!" I remembered she'd said her clothes were damp, and I guessed that meant her socks, especially. But I figured that nothing was going to dry out much in the low temperatures, especially if the gas ran out.

I said, "If you don't want to, it's alright, but I think it would be better if you came back here. I have a blanket and some extra clothes, and maybe we can stay warmer bundled up in them. And I have some dry socks, a heavy wool pair. They're way too big for you but you can put them on and just pull them up. That should make your feet a little warmer."

For a minute she didn't say anything and didn't move, but finally she said, "What about you? Don't you need them?"

"I put on dry socks when I got back to the car before, I've learned the hard way how cold your feet can get. I'll be okay. But if we run out of gas you could get frostbite if you're wet like that." There was silence again and I finally realized the real problem was, she was scared of me. "Please, you don't have to be afraid, I promise I won't do anything. But it's not even 11 yet and we have to get through the night. We need to do everything we can to stay warm and comfortable."

She still didn't say anything, but I heard movement and it seemed like she was struggling with something. Her boots. Then, almost crying, she whimpered, "Oh god! My feet are soaked! And they're so cold!" And a minute later, "What's your name?"

"Robbie, Robbie Carson. What about you?"

"Katie Winslow."

I felt like I'd been hit with a hammer, and I groaned, "Oh fuck!"

Dead silence. But then, "What's the matter, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

And I suddenly realized how rude I'd been. "Oh god! No. I'm sorry! It's just that the name Katie is very special to me and I wasn't expecting ... My wife's name was Katie."

"Was?"

"She died nine months ago. And I really haven't gotten over it yet"

A gasp. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry ... Robbie. I ... I didn't know ... I mean ..."

Feeling terrible now, I said, "It's okay, there is no way you could know anything; you didn't even know my name. I should have told you already. It's just ... this has been a really tough way to meet. But I'm glad to know you, Katie ... Kate. Would you mind if I called you that?" Somehow that name didn't hurt so much.

"No, it's ok, I understand"

"Where are you from?"

"Wallingford, In Connecticut," she said.

"Wow, I'm from Meriden. Off Main Street, east of 91."

"You're only a couple of miles from me!" She actually said it with a little enthusiasm. Perhaps it was like a common bond. And I had the feeling she'd relaxed just a bit.

"You really won't mind if I go back there with you? And borrow your socks? I think they would help a lot."

I laughed, trying keep it light. "Kate, you're so small I'll probably hardly know you're here. Come on before you get any colder." She did and I dug out the socks from behind the seat. Then I helped her peel off hers and realized they were almost soaking wet! "What did you do?" I asked, "Walk through a puddle?"