She started shaking. The cold penetrated to her very bones. Her wet hair lay plastered to her skull, her clothes drenched, and her shoes flooded. Bad luck -the thunderstorm had surprised her in the fields. No way would any taxi-driver take her for a ride soaking wet. If there would have been any taxis in the first place. She would have to wait for the bus. She checked the washed-out timetable again. The next bus looked to be due in about an hour. She hugged herself now, trying in vain to find a single warm spot on her body. Every passing car made her feel more desperate. The drivers didn’t give her a second glance. Why would anyone passing care? Their spinning tires slapped her with yet another squall of dirty puddle water. She couldn’t escape. Behind her a deep, wet ditch blocked her way. At least the clouds showed some mercy, the onslaught of rain changed to a soft drizzle. She hung her head.
She didn’t notice the car till a door opened right into her face.
A male voice ordered, “Come in, girl, or do you wish to wait for the next shower?”
Totally perplexed, she followed his instructions. Inside the car welcome warmth greeted her. Hastily she closed the door. Her clammy fingers wouldn’t work properly. When she fumbled with the belt, a snort sounded in her ears. He leaned over, reaching for the buckle and closed the belt for her. He smelled of pipe tobacco.
“Now, girl, tell me where you belong.” |
