Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Ervin

This morning, on my way in to work, I was on the entrance ramp to get on to highway 36. The sun was in my eyes, so I just narrowly missed the gold toyota pulled over to the side of the road. A woman was very clearly having car problems--the drivers' side front wheel was turned at a 90 degree angle to the rest of the car. She had her flashers on and looked like she was talking on her cell phone in the front seat. She looked like she was about 60 years old and I felt sorry for her, so I pulled over to try to help.
I pulled on to the shoulder, far enough ahead of her car so that in case she got rear-ended, my car would be safely out of the way. I got out and tapped on her passenger window, which she opened a crack. "Are you ok?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Can I do anything? My husband is at home--just a mile away."
"No, I'm on the phone with the pol--Ervin?? Ervin is that you?"
"Um...my name is Erin. Sorry. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"
"Ervin! I know it's you!" She turned more fully toward me, now, and I could see a trickle of blood down the left side of her face.
"Ma'am, you're bleeding. I'm going to call 911."
"Ervin, I told you--I'm on the phone with the police right now. See?" She held up her glasses case.
"Ok. I'm going to use my phone to call the police, too--just so they know it's urgent."
"You don't have to waste your minutes. I'll be fine, Ervin."
"It's no trouble at all. What's your name?" I asked, dialing. I thought perhaps it would be wise to keep her talking to me.
"My name? My name. Paul...Paulette? I think it's Paulette, Ervin."
At this point, my heart was really beating fast. She was bleeding, she didn't remember her name, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what happened to her wheel that would make it turn the way it was facing.
"Paulette, can you unlock the door so I can sit down with you? It's real cold out here."
"Oh, sure, Ervin. Come on in."
I sat with Paulette, if that's her name, until the police and ambulance arrived. We had a nice chat about dogs and swimming. The EMT said she would be ok, but wouldn't tell me which hospital they were taking her to.

When I got to work, my phone was ringing. It was a gentleman from Michigan looking for Ervin Days-vows-jezz.

7 comments:

erin said...

Very little of today's blog is true.

Naomi said...

WHAT? Which parts ARE true, Fiberator?

Anonymous said...

You had me going. I was going to nominate you for a good samaritan award. Instead you are a Fiberator!!! But you do it with such style. Write, Erin write!

Anonymous said...

Well, you sucked me in, kid. I didn't know if it was a story about the Waltons or secret sci-fi brain implants.

Yours truly,
Sinclair Lewis

kristi noser said...

What the heck is a fiberator?
Is that a fancy word for liar? Embellisher? Maker-upper?
Someone who has regular bowel movements?

Katie R. said...

So...you're quitting your "office" job to write sci-fi novels is what you're telling us, right?

kristi noser said...

Wouldn't your day have been made if the person said days-vow-jess in a sultry French accent?