Gratitude

Tim had some difficulty regaining consciousness. Before opening his eyes, he actually thought he was back home in his own bed. His big parka still kept him warm like covers. Then he realized he had been thrown from the car after it had gone though a guard rail and crashed into a field. It was the middle of nowhere. A field with nothing but tall trees all around. Dark trees.

He remembered now it had been sleeting in the darkness before morning. He wondered why there was not more pain. His left hand reached for his phone but it was gone. There was snowpack under him and snow falling now. He felt thirsty and wondered if it was okay to put some in his mouth. His tongue felt so dry. When his eyes finally focused for him, he saw the cell phone lying on top of the snow, a few feet from him. Screen dark. Battery dead. Or worse?

He managed to sit up but he was a little woozy. The snow on the ground offered some light. His best guess was that it was very early morning. Giving himself a once-over, his state didn’t seem all that bad to him.. He wondered, though, whether he might be bleeding inside. He knew that sort of bleeding could be insidious. You felt fine until you didn’t.

When he heard Zogby calling out his name, he nearly cried out his thanks to Heaven. The man must have come looking for him when he was a no-show. What a mensch! Sure enough, here was Zogby climbing carefully down an ice-glazed bank of snow, laughing, saying, “Jesus, look at you, man, you’re a mess. How lucky are you that I could figure out your crazy route to my place and…