A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Theater

So this post was going to be about the day I moved to Blueville. It was going to have Miles falling down the steps of my front stoop. It was going to be about when I met Ben, my neighbor. However, when I went out to the movies on my day off, I was involved in a car accident.

I’m fine. I promise. The cast comes off in six weeks. I chose the red one, because I was angry. When I calmed down, I broke out the paints and painted it, with Miles’s help, to look like one of Iron Man’s repulsor gauntlets. I’m not going to lie, I stole the idea from Tumblr.

Yeah, I’m that awesome though.

What happened? Oh, like any night I figured I’d catch the latest blockbuster down at the Cinematic Climatic. I got in to my car and drove downtown to walk around for a bit before seeing the movie. It was a nice night so I had all the windows down. I was a little disappointed that Ben was working late at the clinic, but all of those animals couldn’t help themselves.

Well, the ones that did not have hands at least. The satyrs annoyed me. They always got hands-y with Ben.

Anyway, I was going down Gold Avenue and about to make the turn on to Rose Lane to make the parking garage entrance when I was hit by Steve Miller in that stupid truck of his.

Seriously, who has a black pick up jacked up that high and doesn’t go off-roading? Useless people with more money than sense, that’s who.

There’s a reason why I won’t do customizations like that at my shop.

So I sit in the car, stunned. My head is ringing, my arms feel both weak and strong at the same time, I’m shaking and I’m having trouble finding the door handle. My head feels floppy, yes that’s a word and the feeling is not pleasant, but I have just enough of my brain working that registers pain. My left wrist is painful. Cradling it, I finally managed to locate the door handle and push it open with my feet because it’s stuck.

Meanwhile, Steve has gotten out of that idiot truck of his and is complaining loudly that women shouldn’t be allowed to drive if they can’t pay attention. That’s when my hero arrived on the scene in a cloud of lilac perfume and a scolding so terse, I cried later. It was beautiful.

My hero was Miss Maggie from Indulgence Bakery. I’ll never forget the stream of expletives she called Steve, raging loudly that his mother was a hamster. That’s right. Miss Maggie quoted Monty Python.

I love that woman.

When the police arrived, Miss Maggie had Steve by the ear and was chewing him out for driving that truck through a red light. Sheriff Stiers walked right past where Miss Maggie was chewing out Steve and sat on the bench I’d been moved to by the EMTs.

“Damn shame about that car, Marlowe. I loved seeing that roadster through town.”

“I’ll have it fixed up soon enough. I just need Junior to get it back to my garage after you’re done with it.”

“I can see to it that Steve over there pays Junior for the tow. Boy always did have more money than sense because of his daddy.”

That’s when I remembered that Steve was the Mayor’s son. I thought I was screwed. The Sheriff just laughed and patted my shoulder.

“It’s fine, Marlowe. Miss Maggie will go to bat for you. I’m pretty sure that you’re more popular around here than Steve and that truck. I’ve lost track of the tickets I’ve written for him in the last month.”

“Can’t you do anything about him? He’s a danger. Look at my Nash!” I wailed. I was getting to the tears point of my shock. James, the EMT working on my wrist, wisely kept his mouth shut. I could see his lips crook a smile though. I must have been proceeding along to the recovery portion of the accident on schedule.

“Now that he’s hit you? Yep. I’ll get Judge May to pull his license.”

I smiled at that. I liked Judge May. He drove an older hearse from the 1960’s and gave ghost tours on his weekends off. He was also a half giant. At over seven feet tall, that hearse was practically the only thing that he could drive.

“I like him even more than when he comes into my shop with that hearse of his.”

“That hearse is now less of a nuisance now that you’re in town to work on it; the Mackey twins refuse to work on older cars.”

“The Mackey twins are morons who couldn’t handle the restoration on a 2013 pickup, much less a 1960’s hearse.”

I made James and the Sheriff laugh at that statement. They know it’s true. Sheriff patted my shoulder again and got up to go rescue Steve from where he was still being dressed down by Miss Maggie. He let Hank, the other EMT, look over Steve before putting the cuffs on him and putting him in the back of his SUV.

I will not deny that I gloated a little over the look of disbelief on his face.

Miss Maggie went with me to the hospital where I was poked and prodded for nearly fourteen hours before the let me go when Ben got there. Miss Maggie stayed with me the whole time. I do love that woman and her pastries. Her blueberry pie is the best I’ve ever tasted.

Ben arrived just after they finished wrapping my arm in a bright red cast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that brown face of his more terrified. I will not lie and say that it did not feel nice to have someone who is that worried about me. I definitely will not lie and say that I enjoyed the fact that he refused to leave me alone that night. I will say that car accidents are probably harder on the ones who love us.

As I write this, nearly one-handed, I have my current keeper laying across my legs. His face is fuzzy, his hair golden and his brown eyes keep looking at me. He’s willing me to get out of this bed to go outside so he can play.

Winston is a stray that Ben has been pestering me  to adopt for a week now. I think he may be right that we’re suited for each other. I’ve never had a golden retriever before, so I wasn’t too sure.

Since I’ve had my nap – the pain killers are hell on my system – I think I’ll give in to the pleading brown eyes and go throw the ball from my chair on the back porch. Maybe next post I’ll write about my moving day. For now, the fairies are starting to sing as the sun goes down, Winston needs to run and I’m hoping that Ben brings dinner with him when he comes to check on us later. Winston and I would love to have dinner from The Great Wall.

-Marlowe

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