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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1223661-The-Snowfall
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest · #1223661
Recognizing there is still good will in the world and that miricals are still possible.
That year the snow fell with a vengeance. It came down quickly and hard leaving a white blanket covering overall. Thomas traipsed through the twelve-inch snowdrifts after abandoning his car on the side of the road. He wore a blue down coat and red scarf. His head was covered with a blue knit cap and his hands with wool lined leather gloves. He had no forethought of what could happen. He was determined to get home, a 15-mile walk. There were no cars on the road. He asked himself: “Why did I have to be so stubborn? We were given leave hours ago. It was now 5:00PM. It was almost dark. He thought about his wife who was safe at home. He felt he was the only fool on the road when he saw a semi-truck coming his way. He waved it down and to his surprise, the truck stopped. Never before would he have dreamt of hitch hiking. He knew too well the dangers. However, tonight was different. Little did he know he was about to be taken for the ride of his life.

The snow flurries blew against the windshield in thick splats and the windshield wipers squeaked with retaliation in exasperation trying to keep the snow off the windshield. The man opened his window and asked: “You look like you could use a lift. Where are you headed?” The white bearded man spoke fast and his words slurred together. His voice was gruff and he appeared worn in years, with creases on his forehead, cheeks, and chin. His skin coloring was dark and rough. His white hair was greased back shoulder length.

Thomas tried not to stare at his looks, was thankful for the lift, and stated: “Sure is a hell of a snowstorm. I thought I’d be walking all night before anyone would be in sight. I am sure glad to see you. How long you been out?”

“ I’ve a load to get out to Michigan that is due and I don’t get paid until it’s delivered. So where are you headed?”

“ I live in Rockport.”

“ I bet you thought you could walk it. It’s a good 15 miles from here; you’d freeze before you got there. Your lucky I saw you.”

Thomas asked: “What’s your name?”

“Everyone calls me Buzz for short. Real name is Jude. I never liked it. I’ve been driving a Rig since I can remember. Long history there, but it’s a bridge over the water now. What’s yours.?

“I’m Thomas Willaby.” Thomas thought that maybe this ride wouldn’t be so bad after all. The snow kept coming down. He wondered how a big Rig could handle this snow, and secretly worried they would skid off in a ditch. Thomas was a Certified Public Accountant. He crunched numbers. Everything was figure. It was precise, exact, and little room for error. Today, he was taking a chance. There was no nice little sum that would end in a simple solution. It tested his faith. He was with a stranger that seemed to take a chance on anything. He wished he were less calculating than he was and had some of this man’s courage to fight against all odds. Then he thought better of himself Maybe he was just plain foolish to be driving in this weather. Was it any more foolish than him taking a chance to walk home?

Buzz hummed as he drove and didn’t seem to bat an eye at the blizzard consuming them. He was a man of little words and did not speak unless spoken to. Thomas wanted to know more about this man, but felt awkward to ask.

“What got you driving Rigs?” Thomas asked.

“It was a job passed down by my father. I had gone astray and didn’t know my way. My father took me in at my worst. You see I sent a man to his death. Now, I am trying to repay it back. That’s a long time ago. Now I drive. When the time comes for me to stop, I’ll know. This snowstorm is nothing compared to some spots I’ve been in.”

“ Maybe we should stop until the weather clears.”

“It’s not going to clear. This is the road we are to travel. You need to be more trusting. Over the years, faith has gotten me through these hard times, even when things were their darkest.”

Thomas thought he had a Holy Roller on his hands. He was a church going man, but it was going to take a miracle to shake his faith beyond his Sunday obligation. He wasn’t about to be turned and he was damned if some stranger was going to change his mind.

The snowstorm was not letting up one bit. You could barely see a foot in front of you. But, Buzz plugged along at a slow and steady pace. He did not question Thomas. He let him be and answered his quaint questions as they came. Thomas sat quietly the rest of the ride, thankful to be inside and warm. Now he realized how foolish he had been trying to traverse through the snow to his home. They soon pulled into Rockport.

Buzz tookThomas to his home. Thomas asked the stranger in for dinner, but Buzz declined. He didn’t push the matter. He thanked him and offered Buzz money for his troubles. Again, Buzz turned it down. “It’s my gift to you.”
Thomas watched as Buzz drove off. He turned and the Rig was gone. He thought, how did he disappear so quickly? Little did he know, it was one of God’s angels watching over him. It was the biggest snowfall that year. He realized that without Buzz, he most certainly would have frozen to death before he reached home.
© Copyright 2007 Cat is Nesting (cnelson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1223661-The-Snowfall