Blog 17

   

                                                            The Traffic Jam

        

     Cars are at a standstill in all directions. I- 75 is in complete congestion. There is no movement whatsoever, not even a 5-mile-per-hour crawl. This is the definition of bumper-to-bumper. Drivers look around at each other with a face of half frustration, half bewilderment. The man in the silver Element punches his steering wheel and takes out his phone to try and figure out what disaster could cause such a build up.

The dogs wake up from their restless slumber in the backseat and go from window to window snorting and wagging their tails; antsy to see what destination they have arrived at. They spot an older brown dog with a white beard in the car next door and one of them lets out a whine. He shoves his big blocky head out the half open drivers side window and then snouts the driver of the car as if to ask to be let out to go say hello. She wipes her face and yells, “Marley! Calm Down back there.” She playfully laughs and retrieves her I Phone out of her purse.

Ten minutes go by and still no movement, twenty minutes-still stuck. The driver turns off the car, “We’re going to be here for awhile.” One by one people exit their vehicles and come together with a shared intent to get information, any tid-bit that may tell them why they are being held up in this mess.

“I’m gonna go see if anyone knows anything” the driver said.

A helicopter flies over. “They must be bay-flighting them to the hospital,” someone says. Everyone frowns in sympathy for the unidentified victims- they knew that meant that it was a bad accident. The dog in the backseat is in a staring competition with the old brown dog next door. He tail sticks out straight as it does when he is on guard when he walks in the woods, ready to react just in case this ancient beast decides to worm out of the window.

An old man hops up on the median divider and stares off into the distance to try and get a look. He squints and cups his hands over his face to block the sun.  He hobbled back down and shrugged his shoulders then folded his arms and joined the conversation again.

Two more join the circle of confusion A man in a green polo, jeans, and reef sandals, had his collar popped. His petite companion had blonde teased hair, skinny jeans and ballet flats. They were in their 50’s but could have passed for teenagers from a distance. A boy sections off from the group, sticks one finger over his ear to block the sound of the traffic barreling along in the other direction and sticks his phone in the other ear. He jabbers away and paces few feet forward and then back a few feet in the same direction. He hangs up and jogs back over to the group.

“My sister is towards the front of the jam and she said they cut two people out of the car and they still have to cut the third,” said the boy.

“The jaws of life man…that’s bad,” said the man with the popped collar.

A woman walks her dog by the car and both dogs fumble to get the best spot in the driver side window.  All three tails wag and the dog pulls the woman towards the car before she regains control and tugs back on the leash. She scolds the dog and continues walking.

“They opened up the right lane, so we should be movin’ pretty soon here. I’ve got some bottled water in the trunk if you girls are thirsty,” the man shouts from the car next door. His old brown dog stares blankly at him.

In the distance engines started and brake lights flashed like hundred of red starts in a sea of metal and asphalt. Everyone smiled, waved good-bye and hurried back to their vehicles. The driver hopped back in the car.

“Buckle up,” she said.

The cars crawled along for four or five miles. Only one lane was open and the two lanes were littered with glass, metal and plastic pieces. Cars courteously let each other over, keeping in mind their hour-long kinship with their other frustrated companions. Men in bright orange vests swept the road and picked up larger pieces of rubble. All fire trucks, ambulances and the helicopter were already gone. The victims were nowhere to be seen, but people slowed down and scanned the mess inquiringly as to see what the cause was of their delay.  A tow truck had just finished loading the wrecked vehicle. It was a gold pickup truck with its top smashed in to the point where it looked like one flat golden rectangle- it had definitely rolled.