For the very first time ever I approached someone to edit what I had written mainly because Steffi refused to ‘sing’. Craig Johnston turned ‘Steffi’ into ‘The girl in the rain’ with his invaluable criticism and spicy suggestions. Thank you Craig and may your own avenue of writing open up into a sunlit beach.
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The Girl In The Rain
Friday afternoon, as I sometimes did, I had volunteered to do a smallish delivery to a client. It gave me time out of the office and also allowed me the chance to have a personal chat to my clients who mostly knew me by name. Over time some have even become casual friends and as a whole it was good for business. This particular customer had a hardware store and small factory not far from my home so I considered it good financial wisdom. I save delivery cost and get the chance to flaunt some new products as well, all of this on my way home.
On a piece of country road skirting the city I ran into the thunderstorm the weather bureau had promised. What they had missed telling us was that a dam in heaven was overflowing and they had opened the sluices. Large drops and smallish hail bucketed down in a swirling deluge, driven by a strong wind and blocking out a lot of the sun’s light. It was semi dark even though it was still a tad before three in the afternoon. The wipers unsuccessfully tried to clear a miniscule pinpoint of vision through the windscreen and I chuckled to myself when I realised I was whistling. A clear indication that I was nervous, but not without reason. Visibility was about zero and the truck ahead of me did not help either, kicking up an almost impenetrable curtain of swirling water to add to the deluge coming from above. It was also cold. Surprisingly so. The dash indicating an outside temperature of barely eight degrees above freezing. This on a late spring day?
The dim shape of a car loomed on the side of the road and I indifferently glanced that way as I passed. A car next to the road in weather like this was not a good sign and I casually wondered how it felt to be stranded in conditions like this when movement caught my eye. It was dim but it appeared as if a figure vainly tried to shield itself from a tsunami-like wash of dirty water kicked up by the truck’s multitude of wheels and as I passed it I could just make out a woman with a dress pasted to her body and water literally splashing off her as the truck’s wash hit her in full force. She looked forlorn and hopelessly miserable and I could think how cold she must have been. I assumed the car was hers but why was she not inside?
I stepped on the brakes and pulled off onto the shoulder. I had to back up for a considerable distance before I was with her again and I could see the uncertainty on her face before she struggled to the door of my SUV. I rolled down the window and she stuck her face in.
“Get in!” I yelled at her and after a moments’ hesitation she yanked at the handle. She almost swam into the car and I quickly closed the window.
She sat there hyperventilating for a while before she stuttered a ‘Thanks,’ and for a few moments I watched as small rivulets of water ran from her body onto the seats. I leaned over and turned the AC to full heat as she sat there shivering. Her lips were blue and her rather long and volumous blonde hair was plastered to her head like a wig of cement.
“I’m Derek,” I offered.
She nodded, rocked slightly and then at last shivered; “Steffi… Stef…. Steffi Burgess.”
I nodded and caught myself scoping out the curve of her breasts. Not bad at all and with the wet and cold she was quite attractively visible. A thought struck me and I looked over at the back seat where numerous packs of working clothes lay. I leaned over and rummaged around until I found a pack containing a two piece overall of what I guessed would be about her size.
I grinned as I held it out to her. “Miss Burgess. I hereby solemnly swear not to peek but the only way we will prevent you from freezing to death will be for you to get out of your wet clothes and put this on.”
She looked at me with raised eyebrows and then with a nervous smile she nodded. She took the packet and gently tried to open it with fingers that were obviously numb with cold. I grabbed it from her and ripped it open.
“It is a two piece overall. It may not be a boutique fit but it is dry and will be warm. My gentlemanly upbringing calls for me to get out of the car and walk away while you dress but that will leave me drenched as badly as you are, so I will wrap my jacket around my head to prevent me from accidentally taking a peek. You can drop your wet clothes on the floor. The car has rubber mats.”
She tried to smile. “Thanks.”
I pulled my jacket from the hook behind me and wrapped it around my head. I heard a nervous giggle and then felt the movements as she struggled out of her clothes in the confines of the car. A number of times she became quite vocal as she struggled and I laughed.
“Need a hand?”
A derisive, “You wish,” was payment for my bad taste.
I suddenly received a blow to my upper jaw that made me howl as stars flashed and I nearly pulled the jacket from my head in surprise.
“I’m dreadfully sorry,” I heard her plead. “I was struggling to get my arm through the sleeve and it suddenly came free. Are…. you ok?”
I mumbled and then chuckled. “My jaw isn’t broken. I think.”
I heard a splotch and assumed her wet clothes were on the floor. For a while the car still rocked as she moved around and at last I heard her softly say; “You may look now.”
I did. Damn! Overalls are functional clothing but the way she filled out that set of blue was way too sexy.
“Done looking?” she asked and I caught a tinge of annoyance. “Shall I do a pirouette?”
I tore my eyes away but had to chuckle. “You invited me to look. I have no idea how you earn a living but if you do technical stuff I want to warn you not to wear overalls. It will be distracting.”
Her lips were still blue with cold but she did smile. “Civil engineer.”
I laughed. “If you guys designed better roads there would not have been such a dam of water in the road that truck hit as it passed you.”
She shivered and took a deep breath. “That was not the first one.”
I shook my head. “And no-one ever stopped?”
“No.”
“How long were you stranded?”
She shrugged dismissively. “An hour?”
I sat there wondering how the human race had turned into a disgusting mass of selfishness. Was it because of stupid court cases that had good Samaritans fighting to stay out of prison for trying to help? Another thing that gave me reason to gnash my teeth was Women’s Lib. How many women have been left stranded next to a road or even made to stand in a bus while heavily pregnant for the sake of the ‘liberated’ few?