A little tale on this chilly morning entitled:
Mother Knows Best
The car coughed and sputtered then finally issued its last dying breath. Silence.
Mary looked at the gauges on the dash hoping to see something she had missed but the flashing red lights had died along with the car.
She turned the key again hoping for something, anything, but received only the grinding of the ignition as it searched for fuel.
The car was out of gas.
Mary searched the roadway for a sign of another car, for headlights cutting through the blinding snow but could see nothing but blackness.
She had decided to take the back way home from her mother’s house, it was about four miles shorter and much less traffic than the interstate, a fact that seemed like a good thing four hours ago.
When she left New London for Boston this morning she thought she was quite prepared for the trip back home. One night with her know-it-all mom was all she could bear and besides she wanted to be home for Halloween. She had forgotten to plug her cell in before she went to bed but it was still about fifty percent in the green so she figured that she could make the two and a half hour trip home without a problem.
She also hadn’t stopped to fill the car before she left as she planned on filling up at one of the cheaper stations that she could hit once she crossed the state line back into Massachusetts.
She thought she was ready for everything but the one thing Mary hadn’t prepared was the weather.
What was it exactly that her had mother said to her while they were having breakfast?
“Nor’easters are unpredictable, Mary. You should stay.”
“It doesn’t snow in October and certainly not on Halloween,” she had snapped back at her mother.
Mary hadn’t listened to her mother’s warning and as it turned out, she had been wrong on both counts. The storm arrived hours earlier than predicted and after she had to slow to a crawl because she couldn’t see in the driving snow, and eventually had to stop driving altogether, she found herself stranded still miles from home with no cell service and no gas in the midst of a killer Nor’easter.
“The Perfect Storm,” she had heard someone call it on the radio just before the car died. It didn’t seem perfect to her at all.
Soon the temperature inside the automobile would drop and she, would die right along with her car.
Why hadn’t she filled the car? Charged her phone?
She was sleepy. At least sleep was predictable. Like waking up. And dying.
She curled herself up into a ball and closed her eyes.
At least she wouldn't have to hear "I told you so."