Cute red pumps incongruously catching the foggy moonlight, she walked haltingly on the gravel road. She paused, bent over, and slipped the shoes off, supposing that to walk barefoot would at least be easier than walking in three-inch heels. Nevertheless, hers was an inapropos elegance on the dismal road.
Had anyone ventured down that lonely road at such an ungodly hour, they would have been struck by the contrast. But the weather, the time, and the location proved her allies against being spotted in such a shabby situation. The depth of her frustration welled itself up in her and spilled over her glittered eyeliner, leaving unwelcome streaks of shimmer down her face. She was a strong woman. But even strong women have moments when the world shows an intense disrespect for the hard work they put into their eye makeup.
She was not an unwise woman, and would not have, in any other circumstances, allowed herself to be found in so vulnerable a position. Dark and lonely roads were not her frequent haunts, but that fact was not resonant in her mind at the time, and only a pervading sense of frustration forced her footsteps forward.
The untrustworthiness of the people at the party had been the push that shoved her, without a car, onto the gravel road toward any place where she could get cell phone service and call a taxi. The time it would take to walk from there to any place else would give her enough time to blow off steam. She had had enough. And she was almost convinced that the telling of her misadventure on the gravel road, to later listeners, would be justified. Why wouldn't it be? They would see how much she needed to just get away. The last straw broke the camel's back, and dangerous as the situation was now, she had no choice. That's what she would tell them.
A car passed in a crunchy swirl of fog, and in the headlights she saw the glitter of misting rain she was just beginning to feel on her bare shoulders. She stepped off the road just in time to not be seen by the passengers. But she heard them, and with the window down, she recognized voices of those come from the party. She cringed as she heard their voices, harsh with enthusiasm and general contentment, and then stepped back onto the road. Had they seen her, what more insult could they have flung at her? How would she have taken it? Normally, she would have taken it in stride, smiled, and moved on. But with the weight of the week born down on her shoulders, the lipstick smile would have fallen from her face as it did at the party. Not again, here on the gravel road. No thank you.
Fleetingly, a rush of warmth invaded her cheeks as she considered a pleasant alternative to her current predicament. One, she would like to be in a warm, dry room with soft carpet and a Bible. Two, she might not mind having a certain person there with her. Well, anyone trustworthy would do. But every woman, whether strong or bent under the last straw, longs for a friend to, in commiseration, walk barefoot on a gravel road at night with her. Certain people came to mind. Certain strong people.
No, no. The gravel underneath her feet proved a nuisance as it became slick with precipitation, but her resolve was building with every step. Discomfort was conquerable. If she was unable to stand up to annoyances from people that night, at least the rain, walk, and road would not stand up to her strength. Here was her chance to redeem her weakness. To reach that place with cell phone service would be enough to prove that she wasn't a helpless little girl.
Right?
“If you falter in times of trouble, how small is your strength!”
Right?
Another verse flickered through her mind... something about strength found in weakness. Ah, but none of that was relevant here and now, surely. This was her mess. She was perfectly willing to wear blisters on her feet as battle scars. Leave behind the party and step out into the fog. That was it.
Mmmm, the scintillating scent of rain on its way. She blinked and kept walking, glad to have found herself on solid ground, determined that this victory, though slight and passing, would make her feel better about herself. Yes. Dangling the cute red pumps determinedly from her fingers, she let the disappointments at the party drown in the downpour of her decisiveness. Doggedly she drove herself on for almost a mile, even when the wind picked up. It started to sprinkle a little too, but that was no problem.
She stumbled into a dip in the road which waylaid her for awhile. She pondered the wisdom of putting her pumps back on to protect her feet. But no—here was another chance to prove her strength. Oh! Why was there another streak of glitter rolling down her cheek? Nonsense. Just a little raindrop that escaped to fall among the light sprinkles. A little incongruous perhaps, but who knew the ways of weather?
Tickling her senses through the sound of the wind came another crunch of gravel. It was much slower this time, which was fortunate considering that she was slow to move to the side of the road. Another nuisance, no doubt. Off the road she went and saw that she was really unable to conceal herself this time, since a hill rose upward mere feet from the road, and she had to walk between that hill and that road. No going anywhere for her, and that was alright; she just hoped it was no one drunk enough to stop and invite her for a ride.
The headlights of this car reflected on the sprinkles that were bigger than she had thought. They didn't feel that big. But there was some light shed on the rain to prove it.
The car slowed until it nearly crawled beside her. Oh—don't make eye contact with your fears. Neither do you make eye contact with a wolf, or it will feel threatened. You just reach for your pepper spray slowly, lest it take your hasty movements as a threat too.
Wait, that wasn't right.
The window rolled down and a song floated out from the radio: “It's a long road, baby, runnin' away.”
“Hey hot stuff, need a lift?” came a familiar voice, and he would later realize that this was the opposite of what he ought to have said. At the moment, however, his grin was full of innocent jest.
Her heart froze and her brows snapped down. Bad timing. Oh, what terrible timing. This was a development she might have been glad of a mile ago, but not now. This was not the way to prove her strength, and he was the last person she wanted help from. Futile! That's what her determination would become.
She kept walking, and he kept driving at a painfully slow rate beside her. He had turned the radio off, and his silence gave evidence that he was contemplating what he should say next. Repentant, perhaps, of his first comment, and a little confused by her reaction, he took in her red dress with thin little straps, the pumps in her hand, and the glitter resting on her cheekbones.
“It's gonna rain any minute now,” he feebly proffered. But she looked ahead and didn't make eye contact. Independent woman had picked her path.
“I really don't know how I found you on this road. I didn't know you were out here, and I have no reason to drive on this road except that I felt compelled to, and I'm almost out of gas.”
She took this in for a minute, thinking that the last sentence was unconnected, until she realized its implications. Oh, walking in the grass on the side of the road was so wet compared to the gravel. But the gravel hurt, too.
He let out a “whoosh” of breath that sounded faintly frustrated. “Are you gonna get in, or not? I don't know what's wrong, but there is no way in Heaven I am going to leave you here. So you might as well just take me up on my offer.”
Two seconds to let her make a choice, and then he stopped the car and she heard it shift into park. The door slammed, and he stood in front of her. How nice of him to let her keep walking, as he walked backward in the grass and the car waited in the middle of the road, illuminating the path for the two of them and their unorthodox dance.
He leveled a gaze at her, and she met it with a determined one of her own. This was a bad idea. Wolves and eye contact and all that. Not that he felt challenged by it (though he might have), but that she just shouldn't subject herself to determined eyes.
It might have taken another half mile but that it started raining, and he stopped in his tracks and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Stop. My hair is getting wet. Get in the car.”
“I've been at a party, and--”
“Mmhmm. Get in the car, kid.”
“Some things I have to do on my own,” she protested as he took her purse and shoes and tossed them on the floor of the car.
He laughed. “And sometimes God sends people to drive us out of the rain.” His eyes fairly glittered with amusement, and rain dripped from his hair onto his nose. He shut the door behind her and crossed around to the other side. He threw a glance Heavenward for a mere second and slid in next to her. He turned the radio on.
Two miles further down the road, the car ran out of gas. She discovered a weak cell phone signal. She also discovered that there was weakness in trying to be strong on her own, and she never wore the red pumps again because one of the heels broke from the struggle of trying to stay balanced on a gravel road.
postscript
This was a creative release, since I rarely get the chance to write. I'm a little rusty, but I hope this cute but random story is enjoyable.