The red light blinks on.
Engine overheating.
Check AC temperature and raise it.
Baking myself inside.
Engine still overheating.
It’s not going down.
Black smoke rises from the hood.
I don’t smell it yet.
Just the gas.
Pull over to the shoulder, hazards on.
Turn the engine off.
The smoke stops rising.
The fan is not running.
Pop the hood.
Call dad.
It’s a busted pipe.
The coolant is out.
Bone dry.
He’s on his way.
The sun is setting.
Cars race past,
slightly rocking the car.
Need to move to the feeder road.
Trapped between cities but
there is a gas station
a few miles away.
Should be able to inch that way.
Turn the car back on.
Windows down,
heat blasting my face.
Cut across the crisp grass
to reach the feeder road.
Speed up to sixty
before the light comes back on.
Shift into neutral,
shut off the engine, coast.
Engine couldn’t last a minute on.
Let it sit for a bit to cool.
Turn on after five minutes
and repeat.
Just keep inching.
The sun is long gone.
Letting the engine cool again.
A cop pulls up alongside.
He asks what’s wrong.
Anything I can do to help?
I just need to make it
to the gas station.
Dad is on his way.
Just watch me.
Ensure I make it.
The officer gets ready to follow.
The inching continues.
The cruiser provides light
while my engine is off
forced to cruise in neutral
in the dark.
Rolling to a stop
to let the engine cool more.
What should have only taken five minutes
has taken an hour or two
but feels like four.
At last, the station is in view.
Parking,
light still red
but not yet smoking.
Engine off,
tears stream down my face.
The officer checks on me.
We made it, I tell him.
He looks around
for supplies for me.
Check in with dad.
He’s 30 minutes away.
I can wait here.
The officer is staying close.
Dad is bringing supplies.
He’s coming to the rescue.
Just breathe.
It’s almost over.