Vignette

Once in a while, the Universe allows us to witness a slice of life without letting us know the full story. Just a fragment of a sentence, so to speak. There is no beginning and we certainly are not allowed to know the ending. Bill and I witnessed such a piece on our trip back to Superior last week. It's been hard to get it out of my head. What did happen? And how did it end - happily or sadly?

We pulled into a truck stop in Buttonwillow near Bakersfield. Bill was driving his Chevy and had to go into the adjoining bay for diesel. I pulled into one of about sixteen spaces for gas and went inside to pay. When I returned, the pump on the other side of mine was occupied by a hatchback SUV with a young black woman pumping gas. I set about getting my gas pumped and started wiping down my windows.

At that point, the alarm on what I thought was my Explorer began blaring. I madly scrambled for my keys, but even though I pushed the button the alarm still blared.

"Stop it, Rodney!" the black woman pumping gas into her white Explorer next to me yelled at a boy about nine years old.

Rodney was returning from the convenience store with his dad and a younger boy and guffawing. He clutched his dad's car keys, which he tossed over to his dad. Daddy tried to tried to wipe the smirk off his face when he saw how pissed off his wife was with their actions and the younger boy whooped with laughter and ran to open the back door of the car.

"That's not funny!" Mommy promised, her face looking stern and unhappy with the trio of giggling, idiotic men. She made a road trip look like it was no picnic with that happy go lucky trio.

I gave her a sympathetic smile and finished pumping my gas. When I got into my car to move it across the parking lot to join up with Bill, they were just pulling out ahead of me. I was surprised to see that their hatchback trunk was completely open. Their trunk was filled with luggage and blankets and stuff. I started to beep my horn to warn them, but they were driving very slowly and I assumed they were just going over to park and hadn't wanted to bother with closing the trunk before they opened it again to get something out. Sometimes, I think I mind other people's business too much, so I stopped myself from beeping and crept over to the parking spaces to join Bill.

The white Explorer slowed but headed for the driveway and then a green backpack fell out. I rolled my window down and shouted and the Explorer slowed at the curb. I assumed they knew their hatchback was open and they'd just dropped something out. Nope! They were only checking for traffic and pulled out to the left, preparing to get back onto the freeway. Bill started yelling at that point, but they couldn't hear a thing. Music was on and the kids were tussling in the back seat and I guess neither Mom nor Dad could hear the wind rushing by the open hatchback where their possessions were now going to fall where they may.

I ran over and picked up the backpack. A cell phone plopped out and looking inside, it was plain that this was Mommy's purse! Oh dear, oh dear! What had only seemed like a bad day for Mama was now assuming Excedrin proportions! Bill ran the phone and backpack into the convenience store. We looked up the road anxiously, expecting to see the white Explorer return any minute to find their items.

No such luck. As we made our way back onto the Highway 5 South, we didn't see anymore luggage laying out, but I never saw a white Explorer making its way north either. I can't help wondering how far they must have traveled before they discovered the 'boot' was open. Evidently, when the panic button was pushed by Rodney, the trunk was opened too. Daddy was having too good a time to see his message light that "Tailgate is ajar" was lit, and there was too much noise and confusion to be witness to it. But I bet when it was discovered what happened, that Mama doesn't let him forget this one in a hurry!