The old Buick approached the curve coming into town at more than double the posted speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour on roads wet from a fresh summer rain. The country music station was well into a Buck Owens ballad. He was out-singing the country star, at least in volume. He had just left his newest girlfriend after a night of proving his manhood once more. She is some fine redhead, he thought. Now he would go home and get some sleep after having his wife cook him a big breakfast. Maybe he would even have a little chat with his children.
His wife lay awake, as usual, listening for the sound of his car pulling onto the caliche rock of the drive. He always made it home, no matter how drunk he was, and he always made them sorry that he had. No one ever had a peaceful night’s sleep in this house. Already the children had insomnia from the dread of his arrival.
The second curve appeared much too fast—he threw on the brakes and attempted to regain control as he got back onto the road, but the gravel was too loose. The car spun across the two-lane road, hitting a ditch and flipping several times. As the windshield broke and sent glass flying into his face, his six-foot, three inch, 200-pound body was tossed to the other side of the car. As he hit the passenger side, the door flew open, and he was thrown out onto the wet grass at the bottom of the ditch. The last thing he remembered was seeing the car fly over him with Buck Owens still singing.
Enjoyed this moment, Lark. It is always interesting to speculate about one's last thoughts, memories, regrets or atonements ... or maybe just a bright light, growing dim. Since no one ever (truthfully) comes back to tell us about it, we get to interject our own justice.
I seem to remember this. But then, I seem to remember editing your very good book and remarkable story. The realism comes from having the experience. Kudos on a great write by you and your brother, Drew.
In my own father's case, he had drunk too much at a relative's wedding and my mother refused to ride home with him in that state. He always had the radio on… In those days, it was big band music. He missed a curve at high speed with the 1954 Ford Crestline, only two years old in immaculate black. After huge gouging leaps from right to left where the Ford's wheels dug into the soft dirt alongside the road, the right front wheel caught the end of a covert and the car flipped end over end several times. Dad flew across the seat into the passenger side door handle and broke his false teeth in his mouth. The roof on the driver side caved in to the steering wheel.
The car ended up by a white statue of an eagle, left over from an old torn down Eagle gas station. Dad crawled out of the car, knocked on the door of a nearby house, was taken to the hospital for stitches, and woke us up in the morning for breakfast. We got real worried when he couldn't remember where Mom was…
Maria, raised in the Mafia and educated by the gangs of New York, is hunting the man who killed her Akalina, and she will kill anyone who gets in her way.
Everyone has secrets of the heart, Follow each character as each one's life is transformed!
"Secrets of the Heart" is a novel which was birthed from Psalm 44:20,21... "If we have forgotten the name of our God, or stretched out our hands to a strange
