Middle of the Road

The car drifted over the double yellow line traveling east on the two lane highway. A mile back the sign read ‘Narrow Shoulder Next Five Miles’. When she read the sign, between strokes of the mascara brush she chuckled. She briefly dated a guy with narrow shoulders; shirts and jackets always looked too big on him.

Glaring brake lights screamed traffic jam. Winnie was already late for work. Switching the makeup applicator to her left hand she braced the steering wheel against her thighs as she tuned the radio to the local news station. She interrupted a commercial in progress; mouthing a curse as she grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the right. Stabbing at the brake pedal the car leaned forward. The traffic was still moving but slowly. The car bucked as she released pressure on the brake pedal stopping just short of the car in front of her.

Emerald green eyes staring into the vanity mirror in her visor she dabbed the brush in the makeup before filling in the gaps in her morning face covering the hint of freckles on her fair skin. Satisfied, she applied eye liner almost jabbing herself in the eye when the infernal car horn surprised her. Shifting her gaze to the rear view mirror she shot reflected daggers. The rude man staring back waved his hands as if fluffing feathers.

“Keep your shirt on pops.” When she looked ahead she saw there was unobstructed blacktop. Tapping the accelerator the car moved smartly. “Fast enough for you mister?” She said as she checked the rear view mirror again. Her antagonist was slow to react. As she smiled she realized she wasn’t finished prepping. Picking up the compact she opened it and balanced it atop the steering wheel. Splitting her focus between the road and the tiny mirror she steered with the ‘compact hand’ as she applied a thin black line to each eye lid.

Traffic snarled again. She reacted with choppy brakes – a recipe for minor whiplash. The compact slipped from her hand, dusting her cotton slacks with flesh tone base. Frustration mixed with rage as she screamed. Fighting back tears she didn’t want to ruin her morning masterpiece before it was complete. Picking up the compact and dusting pad, she replaced it before snapping the compact closed and dropped it into her makeup case.

Fishing out the cherry red lipstick she flipped the visor down again. She wasn’t going to repeat the compact mistake. Removing the top she turned the base. A cylinder of shimmering color rose. Checking her lips she was about to apply it when the horn interrupted her again. The look in the mirror, the same feather mixing but this time he was speaking to her. Winnie angered as she flipped her middle finger. His gesticulation transformed into balled fists. Winnie applied lipstick to full lips, checked her work, capped the tube and dropped it into her handbag when banging on the driver’s side window sucked three years from her life. She jumped as she turned.

The face that was the star of her rear view mirror was making a cameo appearance to her left. He was yelling; his chubby face and bulbous nose were beet red – his dark eyes burned. He was bald; the blood flowing into his complexion made him look like a tomato with facial features. Winnie thumbed the door lock button just before she heard pulling on the door handle. Grabbing the cell phone from the cup holder she punched 911 and held the screen for Mister Road Rage to see. He raised balled fists and beat them against the glass. She found the ‘send’ button and pushed it. Mister Road Rage watched as the call connected.

Winnie brought the phone to her ear as she felt a jolt from the side of her car. Fear crawled up her back and into her throat as the operator asked the first question. Winnie swallowed hard trying to wet her dry throat. As she verbalized she forced herself to face the demon at her car. He was gone. She heard the operator’s voice.

She screamed as the operator tried to calm her. Blood smears on the window; did he cut himself pounding on the glass? Serves him right!

“Ma’am are you okay? Calm down and tell me what is happening.” The operator said in a flat voice. Winnie took a deep breath. “I’m okay; some crazy man was beating on the window of my car.” She turned as she spoke. Opposing traffic had stopped; two males rushed towards her.

“What’s going on?” Winnie punched the button; the window disappeared silently into the door. She popped her head out the window. Someone yelled call 911. Winnie blinked.

“I’ve got them on the phone.” Winnie called out the window.

“Are you talking to me ma’am?” The operator asked.

“Someone’s yelling to call 911. Let me find out what…” As she opened the car door she saw. Her assailant was crumpled in a heap on the ground. “There’s a man injured here.” Winnie looked for a reference point and screamed again.

“We’ve got your GPS location from your phone. We’ll notify emergency services.” The operator said. Winnie ended the call.

“Stupid fool should not have been standing in the middle of the road. The truck clipped him.” One of the onlookers said. The truck driver was shaken; sitting on the front bumper of his truck staring blankly ahead.  This was more than a clipping this was the whole story. Three people looked on helplessly. The assailant’s body was broken. They speculated he was probably dead. Winnie shook her head. Climbing back into the car she took two deep breaths to calm herself before proceeding to complete her makeup.