Heels Over Head

a real-life adventure

Read Part III here.

Now available in ebook format!

"How many people were in your car?" the woman asked again.

"Three. My kids and me. Where are my kids?"

"They're right here," she said. "There's no one else in your car."

I could hear my daughter crying, and I knew she must be scared. I couldn't see her, though. I thought I could hear my son talking, but I wasn't sure it was his voice. He was being muffled by someone yelling to shut off the horn in my car. Cars on the interstate crackled the rocks and glass on the pavement as they crept by in slow motion above and behind my head. Someone was on what I imagined must be a cellular phone, describing my injuries and attempting to identify the closest mile marker.

Someone succeeded in shutting off or cutting off my horn. Or the rain shorted it out. I never found out what really caused the shrill blare to cease.

The engine continued to whir at high speed, and someone called out to shut it off. I heard keys dangle like wind chimes, and then the engine sputtered a few times before going silent. The woman next to me was asking me again how many people were in my car.

"Three. Me and my two children. Where are my children?"

In the confusion, I managed to turn my head just enough toward the sound of Raz's whimper to catch a glimpse of her before my head was placed firmly back in the mud. The woman next to me directed someone to help the person holding my head.

"Hold her still. Don't let her move," she ordered.

I definitely wasn't making it easy for the people who were trying to help. I pulled my head free one last time, hoping that if I could make eye contact with Raz, she wouldn't be afraid.

I saw Taz put his arm around her, and I heard him tell her everything would be all right. They both looked toward me, and Raz wailed in fear. My head went back into the mud, and the rain began punching me in the face again. Two people were holding my head now, and four more people were holding my arms in place, two on each side of me. My exasperating slanted position rendered me unable to move anything else, so the rest of my body didn't require restraint.

The tension within began to numb. The adrenaline had finally quit raging. Or so I thought for a couple of bewildering moments. I felt wet and cold, and I began to shiver, then my body began experiencing hypothermia. Blankets started coming at me from all directions. And then my jean jacket.

I remember wishing they wouldn't use my jacket because I knew it would be hours before I could try to get the blood off of it. The thought was interrupted when someone pulled my daughter's Klondike and Snow quilt from my car and waved it in the rain to place it on top of the jacket. Suddenly the quilt swept back into the air and quickly vanished out of sight.

Oh, great! I thought to myself, wondering how I would explain to Raz that some good Samaritan had decided to "reward" himself for pulling over to help us by making off with her cherished blankie.

Read Part V here.

Table of Contents



Copyright 2012 by Deborah and Brett AtkinsonAll rights reserved. No part of this book - prose, photos or graphics - may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express prior written permission of the author.

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