The Fog.
This story was a reminiscence of the fogs that often hung low on the mountains between the city and the country area where I used to live. At these times traveling between the two areas in the dark was a nightmare as the road and all the familiar landmarks were blanketed in a thick, white fog.
o0o
Jo rested her head against the window while she waited. The car in front had stopped to let the bus into the slow-moving traffic, forcing the line of cars behind to stop too. The earlier heavy downpour had cleared and Jo glanced out of the car, her gaze wandering to the patterns made by the oncoming headlights on the still wet roadway. She sighed.
It’s been a long day, and I’ll be glad to get home, she thought.
Fish and Chips – the neon lights flashed red and green patterns around the sign above the take-away. Nearby, two boys dressed in black jeans and T-shirts wrestled on the footpath in front of the shop. They laughed and scuffled, each trying to topple the other. One boy managed to hook a leg between the feet of the other, causing him to lose his balance, dragging his mate over with him.
Jo watched as both boys crashed against a round, white plastic table in front of the take-away. The shopkeeper inside glared at them and banged on the glass as a warning. They gave him the two-finger sign and ran off laughing.
Jo eased her car through the inner-city streets in the line of slow-moving traffic. I shouldn’t have stayed so late with Kathy, she thought. It’s so hard to know what to say when someone has suffered a bereavement. We try to do and say all the right things but we wrap an emotional cocoon around ourselves for protection – as if death is some contagious disease and we might catch it. At least Mum’s illness prepared us all for when she wouldn’t be here and we had a chance to say our good-byes to her.
Jo grimaced. Poor Kathy. One morning she was kissing Tony as he left for work. The next thing the police were at her front door telling her about his fatal car crash. The shock and the suddenness of it all really got to her and she admitted today that she felt guilty because she had never told him how much he really meant to her. She said if she could have just one wish in life it would be to somehow let Tony know how she felt about him. Jo sighed. Fat chance of that now. Once you’re gone, you’re gone. It’s better to accept it, like we did with Mum and get on with life.
The bus in front of Jo pulled into the kerb and Jo flicked an indicator to signal her intention to pass. Nope, she though as she saw the line of oncoming headlights. I’m stuck here until the bus moves. A few seconds later, the bus flashed its indicator and pulled out into the traffic.
Jo’s mind wandered to home. Thank heavens Frank had been so understanding when I rang and said I’d be late, she thought. He said he’d take care of tea and put the kids to bed.
Jo sighed. Frank and the kids; my anchors to sanity. I’d be lost without them. Poor Kathy. What will she do? She has no family. Tony was her life.
I know! I’ll invite her up to have a holiday with us. A change of scenery might help a bit – and enable her to get a clearer idea on what she wants to do.
The traffic thinned the further Jo drove out of the built-up areas until, one by one, the houses and streetlights disappeared. She flicked the high beam on, lighting up the road. Tall trees at the side of the road appeared to her as dark, brooding shapes, silhouetted by the moon. Uneasy, she wound the driver’s window up and pressed the central locking switch, sealing herself in. I’ll be glad to get home. I don't like driving alone in the bush at night, she thought.
The car beams cutting through the darkness, the constant hum of the engine and the monotony of the driving had a hypnotic effect. Her mind started to wander and she yawned and tried to concentrate on the drive. This is the most boring bit of the whole trip. The flat heath land on top of the escarpment with nothing to break the monotony, she thought. Jo glanced out the side windows. Boy, I’d hate to get car trouble here. There isn’t a house for miles.
She flicked the radio on and pressed the buttons, searching for a talkback program. “Sorry, Dean. I’m not in the mood for singing. Another time, perhaps,” she said as she tried a few more stations. Just my luck; it’s all music, she thought and flicked the radio off.
Suddenly Jo stiffened. What was that? Someone just squeezed the side of my seat! Jo quickly flicked her gaze toward the seat, then toward the rear-view mirror. Her mouth had gone dry and her heart was thumping so hard it felt as if it was going to bang its way out of her chest. There’s someone here with me and whoever it is must be hiding on the floor behind me. What’ll I do? she thought.
Waves of fear shot up her spine, threatening to overwhelm her. Don’t panic, she told herself as she fought for control of her emotions. You’ve got to think your way out of this.
Jo took a deep breath. Okay, this is what I’ll do. If I’m grabbed, I’ll pound the accelerator as hard as I can and aim for a tree. I’m the only one with a seat belt on and hopefully I’ll be able to get out okay and I’ll take to the bush and hide until someone comes along, sees the smashed car and calls the police.
Well then, let’s force the issue and see who is hiding here she thought and swung her left arm back. Her left hand groped into the void behind the seat and felt –nothing!
Pent up tension exploded out of Jo with her exhaling breath and she gave a feeble laugh. Driving alone in the bush has really given you the heebie-jeebies she chided herself.
Jo hadn’t noticed how icy cold the interior of the car had become. Shivering, she turned the heater on. She waited a few minutes and when the temperature didn’t change, she turned to heater up to full. Still the interior stayed icy.
Without warning, tentacles of mist appeared, swirling around the car, the vaporous gases thickening, obliterating everything outside. The road vanished and, with it, the white roadside markers and the landscape.
Jo peered into the fog trying to see. Her car’s high beam reflected back, blinding her so she quickly dimmed them and the glare softened.
Where do I go? I can’t see a thing. Gripping the wheel tightly, she stared into the fog. I don’t have a clue where I am, or where the road is. She turned on the windscreen wipers. They squeaked a sluggish protest as they moved across the dry glass. Useless, she thought disgusted, and switched them off.
Jo eased her foot off the accelerator to slow the car to a crawl. What’ll I do now? If I stop any other cars coming along could run into me, but if I keep going – the wheels crunched on the gravel at the side of the road and Jo panicked, swinging the wheel to the right until she found the road again. Her heart pounded and there was tension pressure in her ears.
Steering with one hand at a time, Jo wiped her moist hands down the side of her skirt. Car don’t fail me now, she pleaded.
The world outside was eerie – frightening – alien. She was driving by sound alone along the flat surface. Her eyes ached as she focussed; trying to tune her body to every nuance to help her get through the thick cloud that engulfed her car.
Her thoughts flashed to her family. I wish I was home with them. The kids will be in bed by now and Frank will be sitting in front of the tellie, the loose pages of the Sunday papers spread all around him while he watches a movie. He won’t know about the fog here.
The tyres crunched on the gravel and Jo adjusted the steering until she felt the smooth surface of the bitumen under the car once more. I’m scared, she admitted. Truly scared. I’ve never felt so alone in my life, and there’s no one who can help me.
“There are lights ahead. Follow them and you will be alright.” Jo blinked; her concentration broken. Somebody just spoke! But before she had time to think about it her attention shifted to where she could just see two pinpricks of red light in the fog.
Hah, another car! Jo breathed a sigh of relief and accelerated as much as she dared, to catch up. Both cars kept at a steady seventy kilometres an hour and after the slow speed she had been doing Jo felt uneasy. We’re going too fast for the conditions, but I daren’t lose sight of those tail-lights. Those lights and the bonnet of my car are all I can see in the fog.
Overwrought, Jo giggled. I hope that driver knows the road well. If he goes off the road, I’ll automatically follow him off.
She tried to cheer herself up. Hey, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t supposed to keep moving away. I wonder what sort of car it is? When we’re out of this fog, I’m going to signal the diver over and thank him. .Jo smiled. Why do I keep saying ‘he’! The driver might be a ‘she’.
The car started to go downhill and Jo eased off the accelerator. We’re leaving the mountain. Hurrah! The fog will lift soon.
Almost on cue, the fog cleared. The moon was out and the forest of gum-trees stood as dark sentinels on the landscape.
Jo breathed a sigh of relief. Trees, you have never looked so wonderful to me she thought as she flashed past them.
Hey, wait a moment. Where’s the other car? Jo leaned forward and stared in disbelief at the empty road. She looked in the rear vision mirror. No car behind me – and no side roads to turn into. This is spooky, she thought. It’s just not possible to disappear into thin air.
Then Jo’s heart started a slow hard pounding as she felt the back of the passenger’s seat move. “Who are you? What do you want?” she whispered.
Her car radio suddenly switched itself on. “Whenever I feel afraid, I hold my head erect”. Jo listened in amazement.
Mum used to sing me that song she thought.
"And whistle a happy tune …”
No, it can’t be. The song grew louder, insistent.
“Is … is that you, Mum”?
“So no one will suspect I’m afraid”.
“Oh, Mum, it is you, isn’t it?” Jo whispered. The tune finished and the radio became silent.
Frank was waiting when Jo pulled into their drive. “Everything okay, love? he asked. “There was a news report saying the fog was bad on the mountain and I was worried about you”.
Laughing, Jo answered. “There was no need to worry. I had my guardian angel with me and on the drive home she showed me how I can help Kathy find peace and get on with her life. You don’t mind if she comes to visit, do you?”
“Who, your guardian angel?” Frank asked bemused.
“No, silly, my friend Kathy. Come on. Let’s go inside and have some coffee and over coffee I’m going to tell you just how much you and our kids mean to me.”
