Free Crystal Clean by Kimberly Wollenburg

snow and dirt on the back of my neck. It wasn’t raining. The back windshield had shattered and the dirt and snow I had displaced with the car was filling the backseat. The engine was still running and the radio blaring. My seat was crooked but the seatbelt was still strapped across my chest. “Why didn’t the air-bag deploy?” I thought, and then, “Where the hell is my pipe?”
    All I could think was, “I have to get back on the road and keep going.” I would worry about the damage when I got to Jackpot. When I tried to drive up the embankment, the tires just spun in the snow. I turned the steering wheel both ways trying to find the traction I needed to get the car moving again. The last thing I needed was for someone to stop, especially a cop, since I still hadn’t located my pipe. A single-car accident would mean investigation, sobriety tests and a detailed search of the scene.
    The wheels only spun, digging deeper into the snow. I dug through the mess in the backseat and grabbed the blanket I always carried. My mother always said, “You never know when there might be an emergency and a blanket could come in handy.” She was right. I got out and went to the front of the car. Christ, what a mess. The hood was buckled and the left front tire had popped but I figured I would take care of that later. Maybe at the next town I could drive the car to a gas station and have some friendly local change my tire for me at three in the morning.
    I crammed the blanket between the ground and the good tire, half-buried in snow thinking this would give me enough traction to get going. It didn’t work. The tire wouldn’t grab the material and wet with snow, the blanket froze to the ground.
    I started looking frantically for the pipe, knowing that when a passing car happened to notice me, the police wouldn’t be far behind. I-84 was always desolate at night except for the big rigs, but that morning I hadn’t seen anyone since shortly after leaving Boise . I knew my luck wouldn’t hold out and I had to find that damn pipe, quick.
    About twenty minutes later, I saw the first headlights. In the dark, there was no sign of the accident, and with all the lights off in the car, I crouched there trying to buy more time. I had no coat and the blanket was stuck to the snow. I was freezing cold and the only thing I could think of was finding the evidence before the police arrived. Two more cars passed and I still hadn’t found it. Shivering and teeth rattling, I knew I had to get out of the cold. I was in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t get a signal on my phone. I prayed the pipe had shattered or was buried. I’d looked everywhere using the dim light of my phone with no luck.
    Someone in a truck finally noticed my car and pulled over. I plowed through the snow up the embankment and a man opened the passenger door for me. “Thank you so much!” I said, climbing up into the cab.
    “You must be freezing,” he said, turning up the heat. “What happened?”
    “I don’t know. I think I caught a patch of ice and slid off the road.” My teeth wouldn’t stop rattling.
    He used his C.B. to call the state police and give them our location.
    “Thanks so much for stopping. I can’t get a signal on my phone.”
    “They’ll be here in a minute. They’re coming from Mountain Home. You can wait in here for them.” He seemed so nice – and straight. Sitting there in the cab of that truck, I felt dirty. Not from the wreck but from the chemicals in my body. I couldn’t look at the man who had possibly saved my life because I didn’t want him to see me. I felt ashamed - as if my presence would somehow taint him.
    A single police car came and I thanked my rescuer as the lone cop escorted me to the front seat of his cruiser. I was scared shitless. This was it: The beginning of the big investigation leading to my arrest and incarceration in a small town jail on the first day of the new year.
    He asked me what happened and I told him I