by Susan Fuchtman
This is a story about a traffic jam love triangle love straight line.
This is a story about me and Curtis. This is a story about me and Johnny.
This is a story about a November snowstorm in Indianapolis Kansas City Cincinnati that dumped enough inches during evening rush hour it made its own traffic jam.
This is a story about my Red 2012 White 2020 Prius and how it was so low to the ground, and the snow so deep, the Prius plowed a few inches off the snow as we crept along, and I rued my decision that morning to eat breakfast skip the gas station.
I ran out of gas almost ran out of gas during that awful trip home in the snowstorm traffic jam. I kept calling Curtis; when he finally answered he never answered he told me later he was pushing another car up a hill so he could drive up the hill. He was a hero asshole.
I didn’t need saving sort of wanted saving. It was cold. Twilight. I was new in town. I was insulted by all that snow when I was new in town. If this had happened in Colorado Chicago but not Dallas I definitely would have filled up and the gas gauge wouldn’t be below the line and I would wouldn’t be relaxed as I idled in the long line of cars all trying to get home just like me not like me at all.
Traffic was jammed like a PBJ. The Prius was completely stopped. When I called Curtis he said he loved me didn’t say he would be any help. He wants me to be independent be appreciative. As I looked at the gas gauge below the empty line I was hyperventilating completely calm hungry and there was a rap on my window.
The rap on my window startled surprised scared me. All that snow attacking, and at the same time a rap on the window. I pushed the button to roll down the window and snow floofed blew dropped into the car and then this face hooded snow coat bent down and said, “If you like mayonnaise on your turkey club sandwich I will share this with you” or maybe he said “Do you need any help?” and I said, “I do like mayonnaise.”
Curtis had been a disappointment perfectly nice for a long time just lately how do you decide not to decide is to decide inertia is a powerful force we didn’t have kids yet this traffic jam was giving me time to think heart palpitations maybe I will stop thinking think some more.
This is a story about finally arriving at the gas station having to be pushed to the gas station by the handsome man who offered me a sandwich asked if I needed help and finally the needle was above the line and I was about to leave when Johnny asked for my phone number gave me his phone number just as Curtis finally rolled up and I ignored him called me and I ignored him.
Curtis said go don’t go how could sandwich man be better than me I was pushing a car up the hill and too far away to help too tired to drive to you I was cold too I love you have always loved you how can one snowstorm ruin that how could one day ruin that? and I said it couldn’t proverbial straws I loved you too.
Not much later entirely enough later I called Johnny and we met for a turkey club sandwich hamburger steak dinner. The restaurant was out of mayonnaise served extra mayonnaise had homemade mayonnaise with dill. We chewed talked touched decided that next November we’ll go to Hawaii Punta Cana Cuba.
Susan Fuchtman’s stories and poetry can be found in Short Circuit, Reckon Review, Pangyrus, South Florida Poetry Review, and elsewhere. She lives in Iowa City, Iowa where she is a volunteer and board member for PorchLight Literary Organization, a non-profit which helps writers of all levels of experience to grow their practices and find creative community.
Photo by Ilias Saltidis: https://www.pexels.com/photo/snowfall-over-road-in-forest-15972532/
