Punky Fu

Obstacles

The road stretched before us: well-traversed, darkened and lonely, cooling now from the summer heat, while we wound our way toward home and the awaiting bed. Eye-lids heavy by the lateness of the hour, bellies working on our dinner, ears attuned to Secrets by the saucerful come to life - we were focused elsewhere.

The lone girl sat in the middle of the roadway holding the universally recognized pose of introverted depression. Had she been closer to center of the road, she would’ve ended a red smear underneath our car. As it was, I didn’t see her until I had passed by her by at least twenty feet. I thought it was surely a post-3am Track 5 induced hallucination. But looking back, I got confirmation: there was a girl in the street.

Questions of her motivation and state of mind, our responsibility, and which options to take, came to mind in a jumbled mess. We sat agog and debated, caution and care coming to a head. How do you know when you’re being paranoid? Eventually we thought it best for the authorities to intervene. I called reluctantly imagining some interrogation. Instead, the dispatcher simply took my information and signed off.

We waited and watched, trying not to be obvious in our spying to either the girl or the neighbors, praying that oncoming traffic headed in her direction would see her in time. When the cop came quickly afterward, we pointed him in the right direction. The girl had apparently moved, and we could no longer see her. There was a dawning sense of horror for a moment when I thought the cop would accuse me of making it up, followed by another moment of suspense when a car headed in her direction came barreling down the road. It was mercifully brief and the girl was found.

To be honest, we don’t know what became of her. We tried to surreptitiously circle around. When we drove by again, she appeared to be arguing with now three cops circled around her and bathed in strobe-lit red and blue. Perhaps there was a favorable outcome for her. Perhaps we saved her life. Or perhaps another lost soul looking to vent found an object for her anger.

Philosophically, it had occurred to me that sometimes life places obstacles in your path. In reality, the idea that someone could become their own obstacle had never been so plainly made flesh. Whether you are putting yourself in the path of others for attention, to be martyred, or just because you have poor judgment makes no difference; you are a burden to someone.

Life can be difficult enough dealing with other people and without creating your own drama. When you become the obstacle for others, you have only yourself to blame for your being ultimately alone on the path to road kill.

We shuddered in thought, and renewed our own vows to make better of the time we have as we curled into each other and closed out the world for another day.