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Crossing Bridges - By Brandon J. Clark

Martha Hennings sat in her husband’s 1993 Chevrolet on the shoulder of the interstate and cried.
Why couldn't she do it?

Why couldn't she turn that key, shift her car into drive, hit the gas, and drive across that bridge?

She had been here before, and the end result was always the same. She would sit in this same spot, exactly 29.8 miles from her home, and cry for 40 minutes. She would try to tell herself to just keep driving. That if she went back, he would apologize and tell her he would never mistreat her again, but sooner or later it would happen.

32 years.

For 32 years she had been married to him. For the first several years, everything was wonderful. Things didn't go bad until their first child was born.

From then on, he had sought escape from his duties as a husband and a father through alcohol. It had gotten worse as time went on. But she had stayed with him for the sake of the children.

Now, her 3 boys had grown up and moved on. Her biggest fear was that the boys would end up like their father; thankfully, this had not happened.

Martha turned on the radio and located a station playing classical music. She turned up the volume and sighed. She wasn't allowed to listen to her music when he was with her. She found a tissue in the glove compartment and blew her nose carefully and quietly, just as she had trained herself to do, as not to disturb his sleeping or television viewing.

It was her youngest boy, Luke, which had tried so hard to get her to leave. The others seemed to turn a blind eye to the obvious physical and emotional abuse their mother endured, but not her baby Luke.

"Mom, just leave him, get in the car, leave Cincinnati, and come stay with me in Kentucky. I'll take care of you." He had told her so many times

"No, no, now...you don't worry about me. Your father is just cranky that’s all" She had said, although they both knew it was a lie. "Why, he was just telling me yesterday he is thinking about working part time over at the hardware store. I think that's all he needs Luke. He just needs more time out of the house. He was never this bad until he retired."

That much was true. As bad as he was when the boys were growing up, he had become so much worse these past few years. It was the words he used that hurt the most. Martha would take a slap to the face any day over those awful things he called her.

"Useless” “no-good” and “piece of trash" were all favorites of his.

There was a tap at the window. Martha had been crying into a Kleenex with the radio on, and had not noticed the large semi-truck on the shoulder of the road behind her. A very large man with sandy brown hair and a bushy beard was peering inquisitively into her car. She rolled the window down a few inches and tried to smile through her tears.

"Everything ok maam?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, fine. Sorry to cause you concern"
"Aww, no problem. Just making sure you were ok."
"Oh yes, thank you. I was just driving and had a bit of a spell, needed to catch my breath."
The man chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Hey, that happens to the best of us sometimes. Where you headed? If you don't mind me asking."

"Hmm?” Martha was shocked by his friendliness, but felt oddly calm talking to him. “Oh...well...I was just driving down into Kentucky to see my son. He's about your age actually."

"Really? Wouldn't think a lady your age could have a son as old as me!"

They exchanged laughs. She clutched the steering wheel, as he stood smiling with his hands pushed into his pockets. He told her he was headed down to Chatanooga and that he had been working in the area for many years. Martha smiled as she told him about her sons, and her new granddaughter that she had seen in pictures but hadn’t held yet. Finally, Martha glanced down at her watch.

"Well, I best be getting back home, it's starting to get late."
"Thought you were on your way to see your boy?"
"Yes, well, maybe another time."

The man put both hands on the roof of her car and leaned forward, staring intently through her window, still smiling.

"Luke wasn’t it? I bet you Luke will be real upset if you don't show up."
"Oh, not likely, he didn't even know I was coming."

The man closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. When he looked back up, his seemed to have aged 30 years in a matter of seconds. For the first time, Martha noticed the deep lines on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"What's really wrong?” It was as if he was looking past the wall of denial she had built up for so many years and peering deep into her soul. She knew that he would accept nothing but the truth from her.

"Nothing is wrong, but, well I'm .... just .... scared" And she began to cry again, holding her head in her hands.
"Scared of what?” The man looked bowed his head again, this time, he looked up with an expression of realization and a slight grin on his face.

“Let me guess, you’re scared of crossing this bridge aren't you?" Martha almost shook her head at him, but then, realizing that this would be much simpler than the truth, nodded.

"Now don't you worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of at all. Matter of fact, when I started driving rigs I got a little nervous on these big suspension jobs. I think its more that big old river underneath that bothers me. I float like a rock!"

She laughed through the tears, and felt something coursing through her veins she hadn't felt for so long.
Hope.

"Well now, I tell you what, I want to make sure you see your son tonight if it's the last thing I do. So here is what we’re going to do. I’ll head back to my truck and pull out on to the highway. And you’ll pull out right behind me. Now don't look around at anything else and don't about what you’re doing. You just stare straight ahead at my taillights. Now once we get over the bridge, we'll be in Kentucky. And when you feel like you’re ok again and you can make it the rest of the way on your own, you honk and I'll be on my way."

She looked up at him, then out at the road. The bridge was just a quarter mile away. Maybe she COULD do this. Maybe if this young man was kind enough to help.

"Well, let's be off then, before you try to talk me out of it!" He said as he strolled back to his truck.

Seconds later, she heard the roar of his engine as he glided past her and out on to the highway. She took a deep breath and turned the key. Her car fired to life.

The man in the truck was now sitting still on the highway, waiting patiently for her to follow. Cars were honking at him as they swerved into the other lane to pass.

Martha shifted into drive and slowly pulled out. She hadn't been this far away from home alone since her boys were still young children. Tonight she would sleep in a bed at her son's house. She would hold her precious granddaughter in her arms, and sing her a lullaby.

As they crossed the bridge, Martha felt stronger than she had ever felt before. Tonight she wouldn't be going back to him. In fact, she didn’t think she would even have to cross this bridge again.

A few miles down the road Martha changed lanes to locate her exit. She saw the red lights outlining the back of truck that had helped her get this far. She wanted to pull up beside the truck, to wave and yell, and tell him she was going to be ok. Instead, she honked the horn twice, hoping it would be enough.

The man in the truck flashed his lights and somehow Martha wondered if he knew just how important he had been to her on this night. As she veered off on to her exit, she glanced over and watched the truck disappear into the night. She never saw him again.

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