I was reaching for the door handle when headlights illuminated me again, this time from behind. I thanked whatever deity had decided to give me a break tonight, when I realized it was the very same truck that had sped past me before. I watched as it pulled in front of my car. I waited nervously as a tall figure climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked slowly toward me.
It was too dark to make out the man’s face as he came to a stop a few feet away. He didn’t say anything, which just had me more on edge.
“It just stopped,” I blurted out to him. Please don’t kill me, I silently added. Especially not in Pelican Bay, or they’ll fucking bury me here for sure.
The man jerked his arm toward the hood of the car, but still didn’t say anything. When he did it again, I quickly surmised he wanted me to pop the hood. I opened the door and pulled the lever. The man was blocked from view as he lifted the hood. I saw a flash of light and felt a moment of excitement. Light meant the car had electricity, which meant maybe it would start. But as I walked around the front of the car, I realized the man was using the flashlight from his phone to examine the engine.
His gloved hands worked quickly as he fiddled with some wires and then he was motioning to me. He held the light over his hand so I could see him doing a twisting motion and I realized he wanted me to start it.
As I hurried back to the car, I wondered if maybe he was a foreigner and didn’t speak English. I turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. The man didn’t say anything and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I stayed where I was. I saw his hand come over the hood so he could tap on it, and I took that to mean that I should try again.
Still nothing.
The hood slammed closed and I got out of the car. The man didn’t move and he didn’t speak as I approached him.
“Do you know what’s wrong with it?” I finally asked, since I wasn’t completely sure he didn’t speak English.
There was enough light from the flashlight on the phone to see him nod his head. But he didn’t say anything.
Okay, so he could understand English but not speak it? I guess that wasn’t unheard of.
The man swept his arm toward the pickup truck. I hesitated as I glanced at it. Realistically, he didn’t need to get me into the truck if he wanted to rob me or off me – he could do that right here, right now. So why was I hesitating?
“I should wait here,” I said. “I’m sure a police officer will be by soon,” I added, hoping he’d get the hint.
The man shook his head and pointed to the truck again.
“Thank you, but I’m okay,” I said. I knew I was being unreasonable, but every PSA I’d seen as a kid about not getting into a stranger’s car came back to haunt me.
So much for my Minnesota roots – I’d clearly become a suspicious Californian without even realizing it.
The man was getting agitated as he tried two more times to get me to go to the pickup truck. When I refused for the second time, he seemed to stiffen and then he threw up his hands dismissively. I expected that to be the end of it, but I was caught off guard when he suddenly turned on his heel and strode toward me. I backed up until my body hit the hood of the car. I told myself I needed to fight or at least run, but I was frozen in place.
But he didn’t try to grab me.
Not even close.
No, he merely shrugged off his jacket and handed it to me. I stood there in disbelief, the man’s jacket in hand as he made a twisting motion with his finger.
He was giving me his jacket?
I was so surprised that I didn’t move quickly enough to suit him, and he grabbed the jacket and shook it out and then wrapped it around me before I could even react. He was stepping back before I even realized what had happened.
Then he was walking back to his truck.
The heat from his jacket washed over me as the heavy material weighed down my shoulders. I caught a whiff of some kind of aftershave or cologne along with a muskier scent that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Whatever it was, the combination of smells wasn’t at all unpleasant.
I expected the man to get in his truck and drive away, but instead, he paused at the driver’s side door, then looked at me. I couldn’t see his face, of course, but I felt that look in my bones, and a shiver of awareness ran up my spine. I felt trapped there in his stare, which was pure insanity because I still hadn’t seen his face or heard his voice.