It was a cold, cold night. The rain had started to turn to freezing rain, and sticking to my windshield. I had just had the thought on how lucky I was to have a new vehicle, recently purchased just months earlier. So, I never gave it a second thought that it would go out on me on a late Friday night on a cold West Texas highway, on the way to San Antonio.
But there I was, stuck on the side of that dark lonely highway, and my new truck wouldn’t start, after stalling. Well, I couldn’t just sit there and freeze all night. So, as I got off my vehicle, and that cold wind and freezing rain hit me, I thought, what had I gotten into now?
A few miles before, it had begun to sleet, and though it was not coming down too hard, the road was beginning to take on that icy, sheen look. I thought about which way I should start walking. One direction, the closest town was about 9 miles away. On the other direction, I knew it was more than twenty, so I knew which way I’d be going.
My walk south hadn’t been more than 10-15 minutes, when a loud, “souped up” truck was coming up the road. The surprise was when that stranger stopped and asked me if that pickup truck down the road was mine, and if so, gestured me to climb in. I thought it odd that the stranger, who appeared in his late 70s or maybe early 80s, would be in such a vehicle, but nevertheless, me still reeling from the cold and not wanting to walk any further in it, I climbed in.
The stranger wore a Stetson, had a beard, and moustache, and I remember that when he spoke, had a soft Texas drawl. Also, thinking back, when the light of the bright moon hit his eyes, I could see they were a beautiful blue. Somehow though, for some reason I can’t explain, he had a sad look about him, I thought.
The stranger, who never told me his name, told me that a new pickup truck in “his neck of the woods” wouldn’t last long out on the highway without being stolen, and said we’d better hurry to go it before it disappeared. In the time the stranger picked me up to the time we got to my truck, the man had told his whole life story. Him and his wife had 2 boys, lived long and happy lives, and that he was a retired mechanic. His wife had died of cancer a few years before, and sadly, both his kids were now dead. He also explained that he had outlived his younger brother, and all other relatives. He never stated how his kids had died, so I didn’t want to ask, not wanting to stir up any bad memories, I thought.
We arrived at my truck’s location and the stranger stated that all he had was a ten foot chain to pull me with, and I stated that I didn’t think that the chain was long enough. However, very calmly, the stranger said, not to worry, since he just lived up the road “a bit”, and wouldn’t be driving too fast anyway. Yeah, right!
You can imagine my surprise when we got on that highway and the speed at which he pulled me was somewhere around 80-85 mph! The only thing that stranger didn’t lie about was that he did live relatively close by and ten minutes later we were driving into his driveway.
The stranger told me that I could use the pay phone at the corner store, a couple of blocks away, and have someone pick me up. He also told me that I should give him my truck keys and to come back Sunday, and my truck would be ready to go.
I thought to myself, can I trust this stranger? He already had saved me from freezing my butt off, keeping me off that cold highway, so why shouldn’t I trust him? So, I gave him my keys and thanked him. I then walked as he suggested to the pay phone, to call my Brother Frank. Thinking back now, I didn’t get his name, his address, what was I thinking?
Well, a couple of hours later when Frank had picked me up at that store where the payphone was, he couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that I had “given my keys” to a total stranger, and then felt like a fool since I had not even got his name!
Somehow, like I explained to my brother, it all felt “right”. He called me a “pendejo”, which means fool, in Spanish. For those of you that know Frank, surely you understand how I felt, right? He also called me several other choice words, (very eloquently put in the Spanish language), and as he kept chewing on me, I felt like an idiot, but being extremely tired from working a long first shift that started at 5am that morning, I finally fell asleep on the way to San Antonio.
That following Sunday, I took a Greyhound bus back to the Stranger’s house in Mason, Texas. I was glad I took the bus because it gave me time to think about the situation. Had I done the right thing? My brother Frank’s words kept pounding in my head. However, my dear old Dad said that if you feel in your gut that things are right, your gut never lies. In this case, it just felt right.
Well, when the bus finally got to Mason, I walked from the station, to the Stranger’s house, and found a note from him on his front door. The note stated that he had worked on my truck and all that was needed was a timing chain, and an adjustment, and my truck was good “as new”.
So, I knocked on his door, and when he didn’t answer, looked around for him, and realized that the house looked totally abandoned. In fact, it looked like no one had lived in it for years! When he dropped me off in his driveway, and told me to go the payphone, I never thought about looking at the house, much less about going inside of it.
My thought then was that the stranger had just gone to the store or something. So, I waited awhile for him. After an hour or so, and feeling impatient, and thinking and feeling just about what my Brother had called me, I looked down his long driveway, saw my truck, and didn’t quite feel like a fool any longer!
Then I saw another vehicle behind my truck under a very dusty tarp. I pulled the tarp off and found what appeared to be that souped-up truck, that had picked me up. However, this time, the motor looked like it was in the middle of an overhaul. That couldn’t be right. For the other night, it had been running great.
My mind was surely playing games, I thought. So, I got in my truck and found that it started right up as the Stranger had noted. I then drove to the nearest ranch house, about a mile away. When I asked the gentleman that greeted me there if he had seen his neighbor lately, his faced got grim, and he turned an inexplicable palor. He very quietly explained that his neighbor had had a heart attack and died about 6 months back. No, I yelled! How can that be, I thought?
Robert Collazo, 10/03/08.
