As we start up the highway, the snow
begins to come down harder. It’s sticking on
the pavement, and once the temps
fall nighttime cold, it’s going to be icy.
“Hope you’ve got tread on your tires.”
Just got new rubber six months ago,
he says. And the truck has four wheel
drive. Think I’ll go ahead and put it into
four-by now, in fact. It’s a simple turn
of a knob, and the obvious traction
boost makes me feel slightly less
uneasy. We start up a long grade,
making deep tracks in the road slush.
And still the snow keeps falling.
Giant flakes, plummeting from the sky.
Holy crap! Check out this dumb-ass.
The words are barely out of Kyle’s
mouth when a black Hummer goes
barreling by. Hope the jerk doesn’t
have to stop fast. He’ll be toast.
Intuition, or maybe subconsciously
willing the universe to make it happen,
the Hummer’s brake lights flash,
and suddenly it is perpendicular
to us and drifting sideways, right into
our lane. Fuck, fuck, fuck, says Kyle,
hitting his own brakes and whipping
the wheel to keep from broadsiding
the bigger vehicle. No. This isn’t
happening. Everything seems to go