Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
The memory of my pony riding accident when I was little always makes both of us a little edgy. Or sometimes, like today, it makes mom defensive and me emotional.
Afraid.
I wasn’t seriously hurt, not physically anyway. Besides, it was like a million years ago.
But the one pony riding lesson I had nearly ended in disaster when the stupid thing bolted out of the park into oncoming traffic with me still on it.
Dangling by my feet from the stirrups, my head missing the ground by inches.
That damned thing ran for what felt like a hundred miles, but it was only a couple hundred yards or so before somebody managed to stop it without me getting hurt.
But it was enough to spook me from horses, even animals, for life.
I’ve never wanted a pet and have no problems eating meat.
I’m a city girl who thinks nature should stay where it belongs. Outside.
Which is a place I only go when I really, really have to.
“I’d rather tackle a bear or some other wild beast, but I won’t go anywhere near anything resembling a horse,” I proclaim, almost sounding angry. “Plus, I don’t think they’d have a horse big enough to carry my weight anyway,” I murmur, trailing off and feeling instantly miserable.
Hating myself for even bringing any of this up.
It’s supposed to be my mom’s big weekend.
“We’re almost there,” my mom chirps, knowing there’s no point in dwelling on the past or being miserable about the future.
Doing what she does best, she forces a better mood from herself as she glances at the space-age dashboard of the rental car.
“Is it doing that thing again?” I ask, glad to get off the topic of horses and the past.
“Mmm hmm,” Mom chimes, crimping her lips before we both notice the car suddenly slowing down.
“Mom?” I croak, feeling like something’s horribly wrong.
“It’s alright, sweetie…it’s just….”
She veers off to the soft shoulder of the broad, dusty road.
There’s tree-lined wilderness on one side of us and a cornfield on the other.
But this car isn’t going any further. That much is clear without us having to say it out loud.
Once mom parks, the door locks click open, and there’s a sudden silence. As if…as if someone just pulled the plug out of it all.
“Shit,” Mom murmurs, her face falling and her shoulders sagging. “Electric car, my ass….”
Her hands are still ten and two on the wheel, and I lean over, peering into the dash, hoping it will tell me something. But I only see her ashen face staring back at me.
Both of us do not say a word.
The only sound inside the car is our breathing and my mom’s manicured nails tapping on the wheel as her mind turns over, trying to think what to do next.
All my other little worries seem to vanish as it quietly dawns on us.
We’re two females stuck on a lonely country road, a hundred miles from anywhere.
An electric car that will not go, and we both know already our cell coverage doesn’t work out here.
Plus, it’ll be dark out in a few hours.
I think that is the thing that makes me gulp when I realize it.
That and the howling from the woods that suddenly feels closer than ever.
“Well. It looks like we are stuck here for a bit,” Mom finally says, sounding way calmer than I feel. “It’s fine, honey,” she coos, patting my knee again. “Someone will come by, and we can get a lift or a tow…or something…,” she adds, shrugging a little and giving a small smile.
She never lets a bad situation get worse by getting upset.
That is my mom’s biggest gift. And right now, I need it and her more than ever.
“Oh, Mom!” I sniff, leaning over and hugging her. Apologizing for being such a brat so far. Telling her how scared I am right now, without even knowing why.
“Hey! What is all this?” she says soothingly, stroking my hair and hugging me tight.
Making me feel like I’m five again.
“It’ll be fine, Tina. We have to do like they say on the news, ‘Stay with your car and wait for help,’” she says in a deep voice and with such mock drama that I cannot help laughing, sniffing back my panic, and trusting that she’s right.
Mom’s always right. Right?
But after about an hour and not even one car passing by, not even a bird chirping, I get worried again.
The only recurring sound is that damned howling which feels like it is getting closer.
By the time the sky starts to glow orange, with inky black clouds looming over the already imposing mountains in the distance, mom and I feel like we’d rather be home right now.
Both of us need rescuing. Like right now, not in three days’ time or whenever they find our skeletons.
It’s only when my anxiety seems about to peak that I feel suddenly calm.