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I must have come up on
the wreck just after the collision. The sun was bright and no breeze
could be felt as I knelt by the drivers door of the white Buick. Had
it been a Pontiac or a Saturn it would have made more sense to me, since
GM has given up on them, but I digress...
I
looked both up and down the roadway in hopes of spying another
driver, perhaps then I could summons the highway patrol while this
other stranger guarded the site.
The poor guy didn't
have a chance; what was left the animal he hit was entangled in the
grille work of the old car, The drivers' head stuck through the
broken windshield like a trophy on the wall in a hunter's den.
Though I was never trained in first-aid, I recognized quickly that
he was beyond any help. The impact had torn one of his ears from
its' mooring and little stream of blood poured over the pieces of
tinted glass that was once a windshield.
The expression on his
face was not of horror, but of puzzlement, as if he didn't
understand the question that might have been put to him just before
his death. I could hear ticking and was alarmed at first, then I
breathed a sigh of relief as I found the emergency blinker switch
jammed in the on position. A cruel twist on such a warm day.
It seemed quite odd
that no other vehicles had come by, I thought I had passed several
only minutes earlier. Looking at my watch, I couldn't decide a
reasonable course of action, should I wait, or drive on to Monroe
and inform the authorities.
Thoughts of Steven
King novels passed through my mind as I moved back towards the
wrecked sedan. Weakly, I climbed up on the hood of the car to push
the guy back into his seat. Hadn't this fellow seen at least one of
all those hundreds of seat belt ads....
The physics of the
situation made me think of Chinese handcuffs in reverse as I pushed
on the guy's head. I met with great resistance and I snapped I guess
as I pushed even harder. His scalp fell off into my hands. I think I
urinated in my trousers. It sure scared me. Then the urge hit me, a
feeling beyond description. As his brains oozed out of the opening
in his skull and dripped over my hands, I could hold back no longer.
Sheepishly I began eating the gray matter still warm from where
blood had flowed only minutes before. I imagined it would taste
gritty, but it wasn't. Slowly and deliciously I drank from this
delicacy, savoring each sip of the jelly like membrane.
I awoke from this daze
while the officers were clubbing me and screaming at me to get back.
One of them had thrown up all over his crisp clean uniform. The
handcuffs cut deep into my wrists as I struggle to free myself from
the bumper of their cruiser.
It was my ex-wife that
had given me away. It was she who told the detectives that I trained
livestock. They said that this was the ninth time, the ninth time
that a car had struck a cow seemingly out of the blue......and the
ninth time that a driver had been mutilated beyond recognition.
How did I know they
weren't wearing the seat belts they asked repeatedly. What was my
motivation for such a treacherous act? Little did they know, I
thought to myself, as the pellets struck the water in the small
bowl. The hissing noise rose in volume as the visitor's pressed up
against the briefing room window for this last look.
The congressman said
he remembered my letters. He could recall my pleas for passive
restraints, The people must be protected against themselves I had
written. Air bags, seat belts, at any costs......Little did they
know that someday, I'd be back.
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This is only a story and in no way implies that the author would like to carry out these actions in any form in this world or any other and no cows were actually harmed.
