Asphalt Dragon

She’ll be comin’ around the mountain When she comes…She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she comes…”

The old folk tune went round and round in Joanna Fan’s head as she peered through her car’s windshield, the wipers slapping an irritating rhythm that didn't quite fit the music. Rippling sheets of water on the glass made the road nearly invisible as she crept along at barely ten miles per hour.

She’d been comin’ around the mountain long enough. Time for a hot supper and cozy bed.

The day had started out warm and clear, but towards lunchtime, thick gray clouds began to pile up and the heavens opened with big fat drops. Joanna had packed a lunch to eat at a rest area. Instead, she pulled into Cap’n Ahab’s Cafe and had a steaming bowl of clam chowder with a giant blueberry muffin. Aaaah, that warmed her bones. Then she hit the highway again.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and grew louder. Soon she was engulfed in a furious storm. The frequent flashes of lightning followed by loud cracks of thunder made the chowder churn in her stomach like a rolling pin.

Her aged truck seemed as vulnerable as a turtle hatchling creeping across a beach under the eye of a hungry seagull.

It didn't help that she was lost. Her map showed a short road branching off the main highway. It should have brought her to the town of Heaven’s Door, but this winding route seemed to go nowhere.

She'd seen nothing but flat Vermont and occasional green hills for hours. She wanted to cry and she needed to pee. Instead, she gripped the wheel.

”Stop being a baby. Everything will be all right.”

A thunderclap overhead caused her to nearly lose her resolve. Shivering, she pulled off the road onto the gravel and switched off the engine. “To pee or not to pee?” That was the question.

With each passing moment, the decision was being made for her. So what if she got caught in the act? Leaping into the storm, she dashed to the passenger side of the truck and hunkered down next to the wheel. Icy rain pelted her full in the face, but she didn't care.

Drenched and shivering, she climbed back into the truck.

“Some adventure! This is supposed be my new career.” After all, she was thirty-six. She’d been a dutiful Chinese daughter, helping in the family fish market in the mornings while going to music conservatory full time. She knew fish scales as well as music scales.

Now she wanted to strike out on her own. If this were the beginning of a dream come true, what would the reality be like?

Her soaked clothes stuck to her skin like molasses, so she cranked up the heat full blast.

Meanwhile, the thunder rumbled on ahead of her, but the rain still sluiced down the windows. She decided to rest and let her clothes dry. Maybe the downpour would stop soon.

Her eyes grew heavy and she tried to get comfortable on the cramped seat. “Sure wish I had a fancy car like Mimi’s. Everything she wants just falls into her lap.”

Nobody was surprised when her sister married a rich banker’s son just out of high school. If Ma had known the real reason Mimi had gotten married so young, she would have been a lot less thrilled. But that was between the two sisters.

As she started to drive back to the highway, the truck bumped and listed to the right.

“Oh crap! A flat tire.”

Back into the rain. She squatted down by the right front wheel. A sharp piece of metal wedged in the treads. It looked like the lid of a soup can.

“Damn, what more could go wrong?” Pa had taught her how to change a flat tire but not in the rain.

Fuming, she found the spare tire under the pickup bed, along with a wrench and a jack stand.

She tried to loosen the bolts on the tire, but they were on so tight she couldn’t budge them.

“I guess I should’ve gotten a service like AAA.” She groaned. “Too late now.”

Swallowing her pride, Joanna picked up the wrench and stood by the road. As a cars swept past, spattering her with her with rain and mud, she waved the wrench and yelled, “Help! Somebody!”

None of them stopped. “Geez, what if I have to sleep out here all night?”

She heard a rumbling behind her and spun around. At last, another car headed her way!

It wasn’t a car but a black motorcycle that roared past. Then it wheeled around and pulled up behind her, spitting sparks like an asphalt dragon.

The big rider got off and strode towards her. Like his motorcycle, he was covered in black, and for a moment Joanna forgot about her truck. His leather jacket and boots were shiny from the rain, and the black visor on his helmet hid his face like Darth Vader. He seemed menacing, and she prayed that he was intending to help, not harm her.

“Thanks for stopping,” she said with a nervous smile.

He raised his visor. “Flat tire?”

“Yes.”

“And you need it changed.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“You think I would’ve stopped?” He pulled off his helmet, and a black ponytail fell down his back.

He thrust the helmet at her. “Here. Don’t drop it.”

“Not on your life.” She placed it on the seat inside the truck.

Meanwhile, the man had set up the jack stand. He took the wrench and wrestled with the wheel bolts. They barely yielded to his curses, but finally loosened.

Joanna exclaimed, “Wow, I couldn’t have done that!”

He glared up at her. “No shit!”

When he was finished, he got up, rubbing his broad back and brushing dirt off his shiny jacket.

“Gimme my helmet.”

Joanna handed it to him, and he stared at the truck.

“How old is this thing, anyway?”

“An ‘04.”

“You’re shittin’ me! How’d it last this long?”

“A lot of TLC, I guess.” She blinked back tears as she remembered Pa driving it to the fish pier every day at three a.m. to make sure he got the freshest catch.

Then a gang of racist punks had broken into the store and stomped on his head. Ma threw the cash register at them, shattering the window and scaring them away.

Pa had recovered from his injuries, but now he just sat staring at daytime TV and losing at Megabucks. They had to throw out the stinking fish and close the store. So Joanna had inherited his truck.

The biker said, “Awright, you can go.” He snapped his visor down and strode away, his boots crunching on the gravel.

“Wait!”

He stopped, and she could almost feel waves of impatience surging from the black helmet.

“I’m looking for a town called “Heaven’s Door.” Do you know where it is?”

He jerked his head towards the north. “Up the road five miles and west on 22 towards the lake.”

Before she could thank him, he straddled his bike and roared away down the mountain.

As Joanna started her engine and rolled back onto the highway, she wondered if she would ever see her automotive Lancelot again. Probably not.

That only happened in fairy tales.