The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,58
to Sonoma. It was a spur of the moment kind of decision. I’m supposed to be at work today.”
“Can’t this thing go any faster? He’s going to hit us again.” I said, bracing for the next impact. The Tundra couldn’t have been more than two feet from our back bumper. I glanced back trying to make out the face, but the window was too dark and the sunglasses too big.
It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I’d been seeing a lot of this Tundra lately. Who the hell owned it and why were they following me?
“Traffic’s too heavy. Prepare for impact,” Lisa yelled.
The second bump was harder and threw us into oncoming traffic. Lisa swung the wheel to the left and managed to somehow avoid the other cars. My blood thrummed through my veins as I braced my hands on the back of the front seat. Probably not the best idea, but what did I know of car chases and evasive defensive action.
Suddenly we were driving on the opposite shoulder, which wasn’t wide enough. Dirt and gravel flew up alongside of us. Horns blared, Jade screamed, I held on while Lisa remained totally focused on her driving.
“Everybody hang on,” Lisa warned as she maneuvered the car over ditches and gravel. We were fast approaching the end of said shoulder, and a deep drop-off loomed before us. Jade’s eyes went wide. I put my head down, closed my eyes, and held my breath, hoping for the best. All I could think of in those few seconds of terror was how I couldn’t die yet. I needed to have sex with Leo one more time.
Adrenalin rushed through my veins. The car lurched back onto the tarmac, and lost traction for a moment. My stomach spun and I had that sick falling feeling. When I looked up we were headed straight for a tour bus.
I couldn’t help myself. The yell just seemed to happen without my being conscious of actually making a sound. Jade’s frantic voice mixed with mine and we were a chorus of panic.
“You son of a bitch,” Lisa roared as she swung the car out of harm’s way. The bus driver laid on his horn, but kept right on going.
I swear we missed the bus by inches.
Once we crossed back over to our own lane, we were directly behind the black Tundra. The driver immediately hit the brakes causing his backend to fishtail. Lisa veered onto the shoulder to avoid hitting him, drove down the embankment onto a dirt service road passing rows of grapevines and the Tundra.
Luckily, the service road forked and she made a sharp right onto a dirt feeder road that led into the orchard. We were going so fast we took out some vines along the way, but the good news was the Tundra was no longer following us, and the airbags didn’t deploy. By the time we came to a complete stop we had managed to take out almost an entire row of vines.
Then there was silence—street silence—but our car still made little pinging and ticking noises as if it had been just as scared as we were and needed a moment to calm down.
One by one we slowly exited the car and sat down in a row, next to the fallen vines. The car was cloaked in a thick layer of dirt, leaves and scattered vine limbs. We were no different. Dirt caked in the corners of my mouth, my eyes and I could feel it tickling my nose. I spit out torn leaves and pulled a twig out of my ear. Lisa was in worse shape. The leaves had managed to cling to her hair in such a way that she no longer had actual hair, giving her that coveted mythical goddess look.
Jade was totally covered in dirt and twigs.
We looked like children of the grapevines.
That’s when I started laughing, really laughing. That kind of nervous laughter that makes your eyes water, your cheeks ache and your belly hurt. Soon Lisa stepped back, took a look at me and let it rip. We were hysterical.
Jade didn’t get it. Didn’t get the fact that we had almost died, but because of Lisa’s determination we were still taking in air.
After a few minutes, Jade said, “Holy shit! And I thought driving in the city was bad. Does this happen, like, all the time? I mean, I’m glad you were driving, ‘cause I would have been dead a long time ago, ya know? Look at me.”