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Spadina Literary Review  —  edition 8 page 02

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Time to make tracks.The moon shone through the treetops, lighting her way. She tried to step carefully but there were rocks, twigs and burrs cutting into her bare feet. Keep moving feet, I’ll take care of you later. When I get home, I’ll go for a pedicure. A wind whipped up and she shivered, holding herself. It felt like hours had passed, but finally the trees thinned out and up ahead she saw a light standard. She’d made it to a road. Someone would be driving by soon. She lurked behind a stand of trees praying for a ride. She thought she heard a noise in the distance. A car? The wind? Finally, lights appeared way down the road. A truck. A big truck. She ran into the road and started yelling and jumping up and down on her bleeding feet. Help, please help! The truck slowed down and then completely stopped. She ran to the driver’s side of the cab. He pressed his button to roll down the window.

“Well, well, what have we got here?” he said with a frown.

“I need help. I need to get to a police station.”

He looked her up and down. She was wet, covered in dirt. Her long hair was matted with leaves. She was wearing a garbage bag. He shook his head. Was this some kind of trick to rob him, steal his truck? Was there an accomplice waiting up ahead? His first instinct was to get into gear and hightail it down the road. Then she started crying and he noticed the heavy bruises and blood around her wrists as she lifted her hands to her eyes.

“Okay, miss, please don’t cry. Look, there’s a town twelve miles from here. I’ll call the O.P.P. and get them to meet us there.” He opened the door and stepped down. She ran into his arms. She was so cold.

“It’s over now. Shush….Come on, let’s get you into the cab. It’s warm inside. I have food and water. Whatever you need.”

He gently helped her into the passenger side. He couldn’t help but notice the long legs. Even in her battered state, she looked better than most girls he picked up late at night.

He got her seat belt done up, then picked up his cell and dialed 911. When he finished the brief conversation he looked over and told her the police would be waiting in Burnt River. “It’s not far. Just sit back and try to rest.”

He grabbed a jacket hanging from a hook behind him and covered her. He reached over to a console and pulled out a thermos and a power bar. “Coffee? It’s black.”

“Great. That’s the only way to drink it.” She smiled as he poured. “Mister, you just saved my life. You better tell me your name.”

“It’s James, but my friends call me Jimmy. Jimmy Page.”

“Nice to meet you Jimmy. I’m probably going to get hysterical soon but I want to thank you.”

“No need. Let’s get going. They’ll be waiting.”

She looked out her window at the moon and back to the driver. She put her grimy hand on his, and he instantly wrapped his hand around her cold fingers.

She thought to herself, not all men are bad. But there was one out there that was very bad indeed and Alex knew that she would do anything to get her revenge. Anything.


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