wiped the water from my eyes, she flipped on the wipers full blast and put the truck in gear. I looked out the
window. I’d never been in a storm so bad that the water splashing
up
from the ground made a hazy fog
up to the bumper of the truck. I shook my head as another boom of thunder vibrated through us. “This is
crazy.”
Kimberly, cranking the wheel and giving it gas, didn’t crack a smile. “It’s not
over.”
“Where are we going?”
“Grogan’s Flat. Uncle Morgan is still out there.”
“Won’t he just come home?”
She shook her head. “You don’t know Uncle Morgan.”
I supposed that meant the guy would stay out no matter if the world cracked in half and swallowed him
whole. The rain poured harder, almost to the point where you couldn’t see even with the wipers going full bore,
and as Kimberly took a right onto a dirt trail going through the fields, she slowed.
Mud sucked at the tires and she downshifted, then yanked on a shorter stick shift near the floorboard. The
truck jerked. “What’s that?”
“Four-wheel drive. We might get stuck.”
I felt the shift as the front wheels grabbed the mud, and we bounced and sloshed and slid along the track.
For as flat as this part of Montana was, there were gullies and ravines and slopes that I’d not noticed before, and
we almost slid off the track a couple of times. “What happens if we get stuck?” I asked.
“We don’t get stuck.”
Ten minutes later, after several incredibly hairy moments in the truck, the track went from mud to a
running stream. Kimberly gunned the engine up a slope, the tires spitting mud and water up the sides of the windows as
they gripped the slippery hill. I could only sit and marvel. My future wife could do
anything,
and I realized I was
having the best time of my life. “This is awesome.”
She smiled. “Nice first date, huh?”
“The best.”
She searched through the rain, the headlights barely cutting through the wall of water blanketing the
fields. “Keep an eye out for the tractor. We should be coming up on it soon.”
I couldn’t see fifty yards in any direction. “What’s it look like?”
“Big and green.”
A few minutes later, I spotted a hulking shape in the distance, through the passenger window.
“There it is!”
She slowed, then cranked the wheel, churning up the hill and winding the engine up. “This
isn’t good.”
“What?”
She looked ahead as she drove. “He’s on a side slope.”
“What does that mean?”
She sped up, all four tires spinning as we ground our way closer. She peered through the rain. “It
slid. Crap.” As we neared and the tractor was clearly visible, she gasped. “Oh God. It tipped
over.”
I looked, noticing Morgan’s own pickup parked at the crest of the hill, fifteen yards from the big
machine. I’d never seen whatever kind of tractor it was, but I could see the huge rear wheel sticking up in the
sky. “How did it tip?”
“When it rains this hard, the soil can’t hold the water. The weight of the tractor will
make the surface give way.” A tinge of panic hit her voice as we came to a stop near the toppled thing. She left
the engine running and jumped out, slipping and sliding up the rest of the slope.
I grabbed my cowboy hat and hopped out, following as fast as I could in the shadow of the clouds and
hammering rain. The air lit up three times with lightning, one clap after another as the thunder deafened me. I fell, sunk
to my wrist in mud, and scrambled up. I could hear Kimberly screaming her uncle’s name over the noise as she
circled around the tractor.
I finally reached it, scrambling around the opposite way from where she searched for him. Then I saw
him. He and I looked at each other through the rain, and his eyes, filled with pain, blazed into mine. He reminded me of
a trapped animal, angry and hurt. I screamed for Kimberly, and as she came around the corner and saw her uncle pinned
under the machine, her
window. I’d never been in a storm so bad that the water splashing
up
from the ground made a hazy fog
up to the bumper of the truck. I shook my head as another boom of thunder vibrated through us. “This is
crazy.”
Kimberly, cranking the wheel and giving it gas, didn’t crack a smile. “It’s not
over.”
“Where are we going?”
“Grogan’s Flat. Uncle Morgan is still out there.”
“Won’t he just come home?”
She shook her head. “You don’t know Uncle Morgan.”
I supposed that meant the guy would stay out no matter if the world cracked in half and swallowed him
whole. The rain poured harder, almost to the point where you couldn’t see even with the wipers going full bore,
and as Kimberly took a right onto a dirt trail going through the fields, she slowed.
Mud sucked at the tires and she downshifted, then yanked on a shorter stick shift near the floorboard. The
truck jerked. “What’s that?”
“Four-wheel drive. We might get stuck.”
I felt the shift as the front wheels grabbed the mud, and we bounced and sloshed and slid along the track.
For as flat as this part of Montana was, there were gullies and ravines and slopes that I’d not noticed before, and
we almost slid off the track a couple of times. “What happens if we get stuck?” I asked.
“We don’t get stuck.”
Ten minutes later, after several incredibly hairy moments in the truck, the track went from mud to a
running stream. Kimberly gunned the engine up a slope, the tires spitting mud and water up the sides of the windows as
they gripped the slippery hill. I could only sit and marvel. My future wife could do
anything,
and I realized I was
having the best time of my life. “This is awesome.”
She smiled. “Nice first date, huh?”
“The best.”
She searched through the rain, the headlights barely cutting through the wall of water blanketing the
fields. “Keep an eye out for the tractor. We should be coming up on it soon.”
I couldn’t see fifty yards in any direction. “What’s it look like?”
“Big and green.”
A few minutes later, I spotted a hulking shape in the distance, through the passenger window.
“There it is!”
She slowed, then cranked the wheel, churning up the hill and winding the engine up. “This
isn’t good.”
“What?”
She looked ahead as she drove. “He’s on a side slope.”
“What does that mean?”
She sped up, all four tires spinning as we ground our way closer. She peered through the rain. “It
slid. Crap.” As we neared and the tractor was clearly visible, she gasped. “Oh God. It tipped
over.”
I looked, noticing Morgan’s own pickup parked at the crest of the hill, fifteen yards from the big
machine. I’d never seen whatever kind of tractor it was, but I could see the huge rear wheel sticking up in the
sky. “How did it tip?”
“When it rains this hard, the soil can’t hold the water. The weight of the tractor will
make the surface give way.” A tinge of panic hit her voice as we came to a stop near the toppled thing. She left
the engine running and jumped out, slipping and sliding up the rest of the slope.
I grabbed my cowboy hat and hopped out, following as fast as I could in the shadow of the clouds and
hammering rain. The air lit up three times with lightning, one clap after another as the thunder deafened me. I fell, sunk
to my wrist in mud, and scrambled up. I could hear Kimberly screaming her uncle’s name over the noise as she
circled around the tractor.
I finally reached it, scrambling around the opposite way from where she searched for him. Then I saw
him. He and I looked at each other through the rain, and his eyes, filled with pain, blazed into mine. He reminded me of
a trapped animal, angry and hurt. I screamed for Kimberly, and as she came around the corner and saw her uncle pinned
under the machine, her
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