In an Instant

Two students were nodding off and a third was yawning so broadly that I thought she might damage her neck muscles, so after completing half of the night's lesson, I told them to go home. Sometimes, it's not worth the diminishing returns of the effort put into preparing and presenting the material, and this was one of those times.

Oh, well.

We had talked briefly about fears, the theme of the story we were discussing, and one female student admitted that she fears losing her husband, who is in the military, as part of the performance of his job. I replied that none of us know when it is our time; hence, the deaths of 4 police officers over the weekend in Oakland, CA. It comes with the job, but no one wants to have to face that aspect of kissing a spouse good-bye and leaving for work with a "see ya later!" And, I mentioned the sudden outbreak of hit and run accidents in my part of the desert resulting in several fatalities within the past few weeks. Then, it was time to pack my materials and head for home.

I always take the diagonal road between Two Mile and Highway 62, probably because it's not just shorter (something to do with geometry), but I used to live off the diagonal road and I wave to my old house as I pass by. Tonight, as I came up on the intersection at the highway, I was just in time to see the traffic fatality in the middle of the intersection being covered with a cloth, a sudden grim reminder of the night's discussion that it just takes an instant to change the living to the dead.

I poke along when I'm driving home, seldom going faster than 60 on a 65 mph highway because it's so dark most of the way, which makes it difficult to anticipate road conditions. Tonight, the drive wasn't too bad until I got almost home. A small pick-up came up behind me much too fast, swerved out and passed me, only to be stopped at the traffic light behind another pick-up. Once the light turned green, the speeding pick-up driver gunned it not just through the intersection, but pulled out, intending to illegally pass the truck in front of him.

As he swerved out, coming straight at him was on-coming traffic, so he stood on his brakes, cut back in between me and the truck he was passing, then rode the truck's bumper, flashing his lights onto high beam. The entire stretch of road is marked with a double yellow line, which still means "NO passing" I believe, but this guy was in a hurry. Suddenly, the truck, which was still in front of him, slammed on his brakes, which made pick-up guy slam on his brakes and burn rubber, which meant that I also had to slam on my brakes.

I couldn't figure out why we all came to such a forceful, sudden stop -- until a compact car in front of the big pick-up and out of sight to those of us behind it, turned right onto an unmarked, unlighted, unpaved desert road. Had we not all reacted quickly, there would have been a 4-car pile-up, with me on the tail end of it all.

There is no taking it for granted that I'm going to leave Mia, drive to work, and be home to wash my face, brush my teeth, and head for the big fluffy pillows. There's the body of someone in the middle of an intersection up the hill, someone who was counting on making it back home tonight. Instead, his/her loved ones are being told that he's not coming home tonight, or any other night.