Another Shoe in the Road by Molly Remmel/ copyright 2005

My 2nd peice to be published, I hope you all enjoy!


Another Shoe in the Road
(To be read with a southern tone)


It was the third Sunday in July and the heat and haze were hell. Our car had its share of problems, no air conditioning being one. At least with the windows down we had a little breeze against our moist skin.
I don’t recall what started the fight. All I remember is feeling exhausted by his antagonism. I always felt like if he could get away with it, he’d beat the tar out of me.
I guess something just went off in my mind. I kept hearing this little voice whispering to me, “no more”.
We were sitting at the intersection of Spur 60 and Maloney Lane in Murphy, North Carolina. Normally, sitting at any intersection around these parts is tranquil and simple, but not today. Between the damnits and other vulgarities that spewed off his tongue like daggers he slammed his well-worn hands on the wheel over and over. The louder he yelled the harder he pounded. The pounding began to ring in my ears. I felt the rhythm and the vibration but my hearing ceased to exist. It was sort of like the whole band was there but no one was playing any music.
My eyes became focused on his scarred, dry hands as they pulled out a Winston 100. My thoughts and reason just stopped. It was like God took over. Well, something did.
His lighter sparked just as I pulled the door handle on his old Chevy. I knew he was yelling but all I heard was that hum. After slamming the door, all I felt was my bare feet against the hot pavement. I heard a faint thump and felt his presence behind me. For the first time in my life I really felt like I was going to crack. I’ve lost it before, but this feeling, this anger and frustration was taking over.
I felt a sharp jerk on my left arm that fed my fury. My body was gyrated until our eyes met. In less than the time it took for him to pull back his left fist I realized what was about to occur.
As I opened my eyes, I smelled the tar and tasted my blood. The pounding of my heart walloped my chest and the sound of my breath was slow and deep. Without conscious thought, I found my way to the car. I don’t recall where he was or anything for that matter, except slamming the car door, slamming it into gear and slamming on the gas.
I ran the red light. It was probably the worst crime I’d ever committed but I didn’t care. I just had to get away from him. Still, my guilt had me check my rear view mirror. I saw something roll across the road behind me.
I drove a few miles until I reached the next light. Beyond the rumble of the engine I heard a moan. I looked out my window and saw nothing. I heard it again, this time a little louder and more of a grunt. Something moved in my side mirror catching my eye. My entire body chilled in goose bumps when I saw a blood soaked hand smack and grasp the side of the car. My mouth hung open.
I opened the car door and saw his left arm drop, mangled from the door jam.
I stepped out of the car and stared in awe. He was barely alive. His face appeared almost skinless. His limbs were mangled and twisted. His clothes were soaked with blood and one shoe was missing.
He pleaded for forgiveness in a language of gurgle and grunt. My heart laughed like a child’s until I laughed out loud. My laugh quickly became a chuckle. Then, even faster, the chucking halted as I realized what I had to do.
It was like God took over. Well, something did. Somehow I lifted him into the trunk. It had to be God. How else can I explain the afternoon shower that washed away all that blood?
I drove to the meadow out by the Nova Ceil ranch. Again mustering up a strength I was previously not encompassed with, I dumped his almost inert body into a ditch knowing the coons and vultures would take care of any parts that would otherwise begin to smell.
Monday morning I lead my life as usual. I sent my boys off to school, picked a few weeds and dressed for work. As I opened the door to my Chevy I noticed a few dents in the side. I pulled out of the driveway and headed to Phar-mor for my shift.
As I drove, my ears once again hummed. The world seemed to slow down as I drove down Spur 60. As I approached that fateful intersection, I saw a shoe. One lonely shoe getting rolled and beaten by every car and truck that passed over it. A small grin flashed on my face. I finally knew how those shoes get there.