I was in a car wreck last night on my way home from a book club meeting. Our book this month was Darlene Deibler Rose’s Evidence Not See
; a new favorite. Our car was totaled. The other driver made a left in front of me, and I smashed into him. While searching for my phone and the rest of all my things, I noticed two people by the other car. The driver was on his phone, and the other man, white-haired and wearing all black, was stepping out of the passenger-side door. Seth, with his catholic sympathies, laughed as I thought the passenger looked like a priest.
Three or four kind, burly black men came around to see if they could help. I found my phone and made a call to Seth when they started asking, “where’s the man who was in this car? (pointing at my van) Did he just run off? He just ran away! Did someone call the police yet?!” I explained I was the driver and was alone. Not everyone heard my response, and one of the other men came and asked me, “Where did the driver go? You were the passenger?” When I explained I was the driver, he asked where my passenger went. Eventually everyone understood that I was alone. I learned later that the other driver had been alone as well.
Bruised on my hip and with slight knee pain, I’m full of gratitude to be clear of serious injury. The doctor prepared to x-ray my knee, but the routine pregnancy test revealed another Holler babe
is on the way.