I’m Fixin’ To Play Dead (Part 50)

As the Silver Dodge SUV Red had kidnapped me in disappeared below the surface of the lake I realized that I could still swim in spite of the fact that my wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape, but first I had to get out of the vehicle, and the only way out was over Red’s limp body and through the open window where the water had rushed in, filled the interior, and was taking us down faster than I thought possible. I could see the dim outline of Red’s hair as it ebbed and flowed in the wet murkiness.

Reaching out with both hands I entwined my fingers into his hair and pulled his head down and toward me as hard as I could. As a result his body went down across the two front seats while I used the momentum to pull myself over him toward the only exit of escape, the window.

By the time I had released his hair and surged towards the window we were completely submerged. When I got my head and arms out the window I cupped my hands and began pulling water underneath me while I pushed off a seat with my feet. I could feel the top of the window pressing down on the small of my back just before I finally slithered completely through it.

That’s when I thought I might make it. Looking up I could see a subdued silver light above, and when I looked down I saw the fading silver light of the SUV sinking away into the darkness as I silently thanked the Lord that I wasn’t still inside of it. Looking upward again, while my lungs burned, I pulled with my hands and kicked with my feet until I broke the surface.

After I sucked in the blessed air to relieve my tortured lungs, I realized the water was very cold, and that I needed to get out of it fast. When I got my bearings I saw that the shore was only about 40 or 50 feet away. I began dog-paddling and kicking toward it. Had it been much further I don’t believe I would have made it, but I finally reached the bank only to find it was too high and steep to allow me to get out of the water. Then looking to my right, a few feet away I saw the shattered remains of small sapling lying in the water, but still attached to its roots.

After I had worked my way to it I grasped the leafy end of it and began to pull. Eventually, I dragged myself up onto the bank, lay there breathing hard, shivering with cold misery, but thankful to be alive and not at the bottom of the lake with Red.

“I got to get up and move,” I told myself. But first I had to get the tape off my wrists and ankles. Raising my hands to my mouth I stilled my chattering teeth long enough to bite into the edge of the tape. The water had weakened the strength of the glue and once I got a little tear into the edge of it with my teeth it didn’t take me long to pry my hands apart and rid myself of it completely. As soon as I shook it off I reached down and freed my ankles.

The early morning temperature was bitterly cold as I shivered in my wet clothes, but the sun was beginning to filter through the foliage and I needed to get under the direct rays of it so I began climbing up the path the Dodge had plowed when it had made its descent toward the lake.

When I reached the road we had veered off of I was still shaking with cold but I told myself to, “Just keep on walking.” Which I did and was soon back on the paved road where thankfully the sun was in full blaze by now, and by walking fast under the warm rays feeling began to seep back into my body as the numbness faded away.

I walked the long mile back to Hwy. 63 and turned right knowing it was only another three miles to Hwy. 229, which would take me into Red Hill, where there was a convenience store I remembered seeing when we had passed through there. I thought maybe I could find a phone and some food there. I was very hungry and thirsty.

It took over an hour, but I finally approached the little store, feeling like I was at least halfway presentable since my clothes had dried and the lake had washed the blood off my face.

I found a small roll of wet bills in my pocket, peeled off a five, went inside and purchased a bottle of orange juice and sausage-and-biscuit. Then I retreated to curb of the parking lot where I sat down and partook of my humble repast while I watched people come and go. There were vans, pickups, and cars and people of all sorts coming and going. They all looked like they were happy and had a purpose in life, and here I was sitting on a curb in the middle of nowhere with only a few wet dollars in my pocket.

The thoughts of what I had been through the last few hours began to erode my resolve and those old doubts of my plan ever coming to fruition came seeping back into my head. It just seemed as if at every turn my plan of playing dead was proving to be ill conceived and unworkable, and I was at a point of no return and ready to give up when a shadow which was fixing to be my salvation fell over me.