The Wreck on Highway 109
A
drunk man in an Oldsmobile they said had run the light
that
caused the six-car pileup on 109 that night.
When
broken bodies lay about and blood was everywhere,
the
sirens screamed out elegies, for death was in the air.
A
mother, trapped inside her car, was heard above the noise;
her
plaintive plea near split the air: "Oh, God, please spare my
boys!"
She
fought to loose her pinioned hands; she struggled to get free,
but
mangled metal held her fast in grim captivity.
Her
frightened eyes then focused on where the back seat once had been,
but
all she saw was broken glass and two children’s seats crushed in.
Her
twins were nowhere to be seen; she did not hear them cry,
and
then she prayed they’d been thrown free, "Oh, God, don’t let them
die!"
Then
firemen came and cut her loose, but when they searched the back,
they
found therein no little boys, but the seat belts were intact.
They
thought the woman had gone mad and was traveling alone,
but
when they turned to question her, they discovered she was gone.
Policemen
saw her running wild and screaming above the noise
in
beseeching supplication, "Please help me find my boys!
They’re
four years old and wear blue shirts; their jeans are blue to match."
One
cop spoke up, "They’re in my car, and they don’t have a scratch.
They
said their daddy put them there and gave them each a cone,
then
told them both to wait for Mom to come and take them home.
I’ve
searched the area high and low, but I can’t find their dad.
He
must have fled the scene, I guess, and that is very bad."
The
mother hugged the twins and said, while wiping at a tear,
"He
could not flee the scene, you see, for he’s been dead a year."
The
cop just looked confused and asked, "Now, how can that be true?"
The
boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came and left a kiss for you.
He
told us not to worry and that you would be all right,
and
then he put us in this car with the pretty, flashing light.
We
wanted him to stay with us, because we miss him so,
but
Mommy, he just hugged us tight and said he had to go.
He
said someday we’d understand and told us not to fuss,
and
he said to tell you, Mommy, he’s watching over us."
The
mother knew without a doubt that what they spoke was true,
for
she recalled their dad’s last words, "I will watch over you."
The
firemen’s notes could not explain the twisted, mangled car,
and
how the three of them escaped without a single scar.
But
on the cop’s report was scribed, in print so very fine,
An
angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.
Ruth Gillis
Copyright © 1999 by Ruth Gillis.
Used by permission.
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