SNOW JAM
By
Nigel Ray Burns
A short story.
Copyright © 2009 by Nigel Ray Burns
Published by Nigel Ray Burns at Smashwords.
- For Fat and Smart -
This is a fictional work that is the product of the author's imagination. As such, any resemblance to actual events, characters, places, products, brands, objects, weather, gases, liquids, matter, periwigs, periwinkles or persimmons, is purely and entirely a fluke, except where the author has harbored deep seated feelings of resentment, hostility and vindictiveness.
It had been raining all day, but it wasn’t very cold out and it didn’t look like it would turn to snow. It was Friday, finally Friday, and I was hoping to get home early, relax and have a drink with my wife. It shouldn’t have been a problem because I was working at a client near my house, but late in the afternoon I got called back to the office to complete some minor, but pressing task. As I drove on my way back to the office I thought there was still a chance I could leave on time, there was still a possibility, not probable but possible. It had been a rough week and it would have been nice to get home early or at least on time.
I drove faster than usual, 70, 75. The rain was slushy but light. It was about 4:30 when I drove into the parking lot at work. Normally I would have to park on an upper level, but because it was late and most people had already left the office, I parked on the ground level near the exit. Hopefully I would be in and out, quickly.
Of course things didn’t go as smoothly as I wanted. All I had to do was make some simple configuration changes to a computer program, but because I was rushing, I was careless. What started out as simple quickly snowballed into complex. It was now 5:00 and I had just about succeeded in totally screwing up this program. Unbelievably I had worked my way into a hole, a complex rigmarole of misused commands, with no chance of backing out and retracing my steps, and with no backup which would have allowed me to at least start over again. How many times had I gotten myself into this predicament before? And always on a Friday too, when rushing to get out, rushing to flee my corporate home away from home.
Once I deleted a complex network design drawing that I had spent hours working on. It was also on a Friday and all I had left to do was backup the file. Instead of backing it up though, I ended up copying the older version of the file over the new one. A sudden feeling of disbelief had flushed over me when I realized my stupidity. The utter irony and ridiculousness of the situation! Here I had been trying to backup the damn file for safety’s sake, and I wiped it out instead! Gone in an instant! Whishhhh... All that work gone in the blink of an eye, a misstated command, a slight confusion, in the haste to escape the workweek.
Well here I was again, reliving that helpless feeling of totally screwing up. I could feel it coming on. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the point of no return, the point of having totally, completely and unequivocally screwed up. Once again, in the rush to get out, things got worse, files were changed, data mistakenly modified, and no backup. Starring at the screen in disbelief I could only think that there had to be one last thing that I could do to save the situation. There had to be a way. I turned to look out the window. Holy shit! It was a blizzard, a fucking blizzard! I got up to look. Clumps of snow swirled by. Down at the intersection there was heavy traffic. The more fortunate, I thought, those who actually get to go home at a reasonable time on a Friday. Shit, I thought, I had better fix this damn program quickly before I get stranded here. I couldn’t believe how hard it was snowing.
I sat down at the PC again. I’ll try what I haven’t tried before. I selected this menu option, tried that one, tried this command, tried that command. The program was still running, so that was a plus, I hadn’t killed it yet. Out the window it was incredibly snowy. There hadn’t been a good snow this whole winter, and finally it looked like this could be it. I was thinking maybe it would snow for the whole weekend, wouldn’t that be cool, we’d all get snowed under, a massive blizzard. Yes!
After fifteen more minutes of screwing around with the program, I finally got it to the point that it became at least semi-functional. I hadn’t done one hundred percent of what I needed to do, but this was good enough. The rest could wait until Monday, I wouldn’t be loosing any sleep over it. I quickly backed up my files, took one last look out the window, and left.
On the way out of the parking lot a security guard stopped the car in front of me. What the hell could be going on? I drove up to him and lowered my window.
“We’re not recommending that you exit on Summer Street, it’s a sheet of ice, you should exit on Atlantic Street.”
“But I need to go on 95.”
“Well, the ramp on 95 is iced also. But if you want to go that way, go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
I drove to the Summer Street exit. I would have had to get to Summer Street anyway in order to get to 95. So why was that guy sending people out the other way if the people who exit this way all go to 95? Hmmm.
Summer Street was a massive traffic jam. But not to worry, I thought, I only have to go about a half a block, and if the ramp to 95 is closed, there is another ramp two blocks further down. I waited patiently to inch my way into the traffic. I could see the light at the corner change to green, but nobody moved. A van, two cars up, began spinning its wheels and sliding sideways. Holey shit, it really is a sheet of ice, but I’ve got front wheel drive, I thought, that will save me. I inched my way into the traffic, pressed the gas lightly and felt nothing. No forward acceleration, not even a bit. I touched the gas ever so lightly, a bit of grip action, and the car moved up, slowly, carefully, just a few feet to the car in front of me. The light had long turned red, and so I sat patiently, calculating that I may have to wait out three lights to get onto 95, but it should be no big deal, at least I’m close to the entrance ramp.
But no! After ten minutes of inching my way to the light, I finally get to the damn ramp and there is a lady standing outside her car at the bottom of the ramp. She is holding her arms up as if to say “What the hell do you want me to do! The car is stuck on the ice!” I inched my way two blocks to the next ramp. Ten minutes later, as I approached that ramp, I could see the traffic was at a complete halt. Even on 95 I could see the tops of trucks completely stopped. The ramp was stopped, I was stopped, 95 was stopped. The world had stopped. This was it I thought, this was how the world was going to end, a grinding stop. Helpless people in helpless cars, trapped.
I’m not normally a claustrophobic person, however, I suddenly wanted to get the hell out of there. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Why didn’t I stay at work and finish what I was doing? Why did I run out so fast? Didn’t I know this would be hell out here? Didn’t I see the traffic out the window? I could have waited this thing out but instead I went head on into it. I saw it coming, I asked for it. Before it was a few misstated commands, now a few mistaken decisions. The hole is getting deeper, the corner closer. How the hell am I going to get out of this?
Now, the question was, which way am I going to go? 95, or try to go down Route 1? Route 1 is slower, with lots of lights, and it’s probably at a standstill also. It also has lots of hills, probably all ice. Get me the hell out of here! And I don’t even have my laptop with me. At least I could be doing something while I’m stranded here. This is horrible.
Prison, this is like being in prison. No, it’s worse. I have nothing to read, nothing to do to occupy this time. Nothing to do. “What the fuck!” I scream. “What the fuck! What a fucking mess! Holey fucking shit!”
The worst part is not knowing how long I’ll be stuck here. I’ve got to get the hell out of here. When I finally get to the corner, which way am I going to go? 95, or Route 1? 95 looks totally stopped and there is a good chance a car will get stuck right in front of me on the ramp. At least if I take Route 1 I’ll be on streets that I can escape from if things are going really slow. I decide I’ll take Route 1.
Inch by inch I make my way to the corner. I make a right turn up towards Route 1. There is no traffic for about a block and for a brief moment I am actually travelling at fifteen miles per hour. Up ahead, I can see that Route 1 is bumper to bumper also. I make a left onto the first side street that runs parallel to Route 1. I go about thirty feet and stop behind more traffic. Again, I’m stuck. The road is still ice, snow is still falling, cars are in front of me, in back of me, parked on the left and right. There is no escaping this hell. I take a few deep breaths. After ten minutes on this side street I finally get to the next corner. I make a right, slowly. There are cars on my left stuck in traffic in the opposite direction. A big old station wagon on my left tries to move. Instead of moving forward though, its rear end starts to slide toward my car. Great, I think, this lame’o is going to smash into me, and all I can do is sit here and watch as he slowly slides into my car! What a fucking disaster this is turning into. This is unbelievable. A foot before he almost hits my car, he gets some traction and pushes slowly forward. As soon as I can move I position my car as much to the right side as I can, as far away from the other cars as possible. Cars are sliding all over, and I don’t want one hitting me.
I finally get to Route 1 and fight my way through the gridlock in the intersection. Some moron in a four wheel drive goes scooting in front of me. He’s gonna wipe out, I think, because four wheel drive is useless on ice. What a dickhead.
Route 1 is at a virtual stand still. After slowly moving about a half a block, I find myself waiting for about ten minutes without moving at all. I realize that cars are at a dead stop on a hill just up ahead. I also realize that anywhere there is a hill, there is going to be problems. I can see a van sliding to the left as it tries to get some traction on the hill. Now where am I going to go? All my escape routes are closed. There is no way out of this. I’ve got to do something. I know, I’ll turn right at the next street and try to go around the hill and then rejoin Route 1 a couple of blocks up. Do I know exactly where I’ll wind up? No. But I’ve got to get the fuck out of here, I’ve got to do something. Maybe I should have just waited at 95 and inched my way onto 95. I can’t go back there now, it would take too long, and it’s just as stopped as this, right? I’ll make a right ahead, there must be some way to loop around and avoid that hill.
I make the right, following a car in front of me. We head up an empty side street. The car in front turns left. I turn left. There is a slight curving hill, all iced, of course. The car in front starts skidding, loosing traction. Finally it just stops on the hill, screeching wildly, skidding, and going nowhere. Luckily there are no cars parked on this street so I go around him on the left, and barrel it up the hill. Front wheel drive is crucial, even though I have no snow tires on the car. Now I’m all alone on this street. It is a windy street. Ahead I can see some stores and some stopped cars. I pull up behind the last car. There is a steep hill just ahead, and the few cars in front of me are turning around. Fucking shit. I’m not turning around. I stay back waiting for the cars in front to turn around, then I get a running start and barrel it up the hill. I can feel the car just barely holding on. But I make it. I make it to the top. Yes!
But where the hell am I? I drive a couple of blocks. The road is not straight. I may not even be going in the direction of Route 1. Where am I? Shit. But wait, I don’t care. Who cares, at least I’m moving, right? No, wrong, I could be going in the complete opposite direction. I could be backtracking! Shit, this is hell, where the fuck am I? How long is it going to take to get home? Should I just drive back the way I just came? Back to the traffic prison hell? Should I stop in that bar I just passed, have a few drinks, wait a few hours and then backtrack. No, I’ll keep going a little more, maybe I am going in the right direction. I wish I could see the moon so that I could tell my general direction. I’ll just have to wing it, and hope for the best, right?
At the next red light I frantically search through the maps stored in the side pocket of the door. Unfortunately I have no street map, but maybe one of the maps I have will show the main roads. Maybe I can tell in general where I am. The light turns green and there are cars in back of me. Shit, I’ll have to wait until the next light to look at the map. Is this a good sign, that cars are in back of me? Is this at least a good direction to be going in, if other people are going this way? Or are they lost too, thinking I know where I’m going?
The small avenue I’m on suddenly turns into a dark, winding country road. Quaint, stone walls define it. I pass some massive houses with circular drive ways. The road is still iced but at least I’m moving slowly. There is a trail of cars in back of me now. Where the hell is the next light? I’ve got to look at the map. There’s nowhere to pull over, I can’t pull into somebody’s driveway. There’s got to be a light coming up. And then, there was a light. But it was green and it didn’t turn red before I got to it. Shit.
Suddenly there was some traffic stopped ahead. I pulled up behind it. It looked like it was stopped because there was a sharp turn up ahead. Then I noticed what looked like an old boarded up roadside store with a parking area in front. I pulled over and stopped. Now I’ll find out where I am, I thought.
I unfolded the map, found the general area where I thought I was and started to try to reconstruct my movements on the map. Nothing made sense. The road I was on, Stillwater, was on the map, the road I had passed, West Broad, was on the map. But West Broad was on the wrong side of where I thought it should be on the map. It didn’t make sense. But Stillwater was there on the map and I could only be going in one of two directions. If I was going north instead of south, I would be way out of my way, but that wouldn’t matter too much, because at least I was moving, and I could still get home by going north. I turned back onto Stillwater heading north, or maybe heading south, I wasn’t sure.
I waited in line to enter the steep curve ahead. For a moment I thought of maybe turning back. Not knowing how bad the curve was, and not knowing if I might get stuck on it, I briefly considered turning back. But no, I had to continue. I had to move on. I had already come too far.
Slowly, I made my way around the curve, which was more like a right angle than a curve. It was basically a piece of cake. I continued on.
If I’m going north, I figured, then I should soon be coming upon some civilization. The road was less icy now, and I was able to drive almost thirty miles per hour. I rounded a curve and suddenly, this country road intersected a large avenue, Long Ridge Road. At last I had gotten back to a place I was familiar with.
So this is where I am, I thought. I always wondered what was up this road I had just travelled on. As soon as I turned onto Long Ridge, I could see that the trucks must have salted it because there was no ice or snow on it. It was just wet and cars were travelling quickly on it.
Yes, I thought, now I will at least be home in about a half hour, as long as the Merritt Parkway is clear, which is unfortunately unlikely. None the less, I made my way to the Merritt.
Amazingly, it was clear. It was now rainy and it was hard to see the parkway, but it had also been salted and traffic was moving quickly. I couldn’t believe that what had seemed like an inescapable blizzard had suddenly changed to an annoying rain. I didn’t care though; I was on my way home, finally.
- END -