watching over me

So I'm heading east on 520, just off the Parkway and approaching Shrewsbury Avenue, in heavy traffic. For some ungodly reason I'm in the right lane. The last few times I made this trip I kept to the left, but today traffic is a little too wild and I know that it all goes down to one lane after Shrewsbury Avenue anyway. And another very strange thing is that I'm conscious of the speed limit and abiding by it.

About 200 feet shy of Shrewsbury Avenue, traffic is stopped in the left lane for someone turning. The car in the rear signals to come around to the right, and there's plenty of time, as no one is in front of me. Oh, wait, that green van that's flying past me (and I'm thinking he's going to rear-end the whole shebang ahead there on the left) and getting into my lane! Oops. The red Jeep is already there and *BANG* green van driver's side quarter panel strikes red Jeep's passenger door. Much glass flies. The van pulls over almost immediately but the Jeep limps on for another 100 feet or so, unsteadily, before pulling over.

Now I have an appointment in a half hour, and I'm at least 25 minutes away from Elaine's. What to do, what to do. Well, everyone else is cutting and running, but I just can't do that. I drive up ahead to that red Jeep, pull over behind it, put on my blinkers, and walk up to the driver's window.

A young (late 30's?) woman is shrieking and crying, but able to roll down her window. I reach in and put my hand on her shoulder, which is all I can reach, and press her back against the seat. "My name is Cathy. Are you all right?" She grabs my hand and crying, asks me to stay with her. The police have already arrived - the officer was traveling in the opposite direction at Shrewsbury Avenue when the collision occurred. "What's your name?" "Joy" she says but can barely speak, is hyperventilating. I keep my hand on her shoulder, tell her she's okay, ask her to breathe. I ask her if there's someone she wants me to call, but she just wants me to stay with her. She has to call her patients, she won't be able to see them now. I ask if she's a physician (I notice she's wearing scrubs) and she tells me she's a visiting nurse. She has to call her husband to come pick her up. Trouble is, she's not able to speak, so she hands the phone to me.

Now I'm not familiar with this area at all. I pass through it, but don't pay that much attention anyway. But ahead is Shrewsbury Avenue, and back there is the Parkway, so I was heading east, so I give him the coordinates. But the volume on her cell phone is jacked up so high his voice is making my eardrums rattle, and I'm not sure what he's saying, with the wind and traffic on the other side. "Can she bok?" he asks me again and again, as I ask him to repeat. I finally realize he's asking if she can talk, and she can, so I hand the phone back to her.

The cop asks me to pull off the road, which I do. Then I call Elaine to let her know I'm delayed, and I can't find my driver's license or wallet, and it's cold and I forgot to put my coat in the car (which I always do in winter in case the car breaks down) and I'm cold, but I finally find the cop and tell him my name, address and phone number and once more explain what (I think) I saw. Evidently it contradicts what the driver of the speeding green van stated. Oh well. Memory is a funny thing. What I remember most of all is thinking that the speeding green van was going to rear-end the string of cars waiting to turn left, so I'm fairly certain he was indeed on my left. Handsome black officer thanks me and tell me to drive carefully.

When I get back to my car, Joy is there taking her things out of the Jeep. She has syringes and medications, and the interior of the Jeep is a small disaster, and not only because of the accident. I ask her if she wants me to stay with her until her husband arrives, but she assures me she's better now (and is having a smoke, which is calming her, I can see), hugs me and thanks me for taking the time to give the cop a statement.

I am hoping this won't go to court.