The Longest Ride (42 page)

Upstairs in their room, she found Marcia packing a duffel bag.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to drive home tonight. I just need to sleep in my own bed, you know? I’ll be out of here in a minute or two.”

“It’s okay,” Sophia said. “It’s your room, too.”

Marcia nodded, continuing to throw items into her bag. Sophia shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks for texting me. And for what you did with the phone down there.”

“Yeah, well, he deserved it. He was acting… crazy.”

“It was more than that,” Sophia said.

Marcia looked up for the first time. “You’re welcome.”

“He probably won’t remember much of it.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you like him.”

Marcia debated that for an instant before shaking her head. Sophia had the sense she’d come to some sort of conclusion even if she wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Is Luke gone yet?”

“He went to get some gas and to pick up some supplies. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Seriously? I hope he keeps the doors locked this time.” She zipped up her bag and then focused on Sophia again. “Wait… why’s he coming back? I thought you said you broke up with him.”

“I did.”

“But?”

“How about we talk about it next week – when you get back. Because right now, I’m not completely sure what’s happening with us.”

Marcia accepted that, then started toward the door before stopping again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “and I have the sense that everything is going to work out between you two. And if you want my opinion, I think that’s a good thing.”

 

 

In the mountains, the snowfall had been heavy and the roads were icy in places, which meant they didn’t reach the cabins until nearly four in the morning. The grounds resembled a pioneer camp, long since abandoned. Despite the absence of light anywhere, Luke unerringly guided his truck to a stop in front of the same cabin where they’d stayed before, the key dangling from the lock.

Inside, the cabin was frigid, the thin plank walls doing little to keep the cold at bay. He’d told her to pack both a hat and mittens, and she wore them along with her jacket while Luke got the fireplace and the woodstove burning. The skidding, slipping drive had kept her on edge all night, but now that they had arrived, she felt exhaustion catching up with her.

They went to bed fully clothed in their jackets and hats, falling asleep within minutes. When Sophia woke hours later, the house had warmed considerably, though not enough for her to walk around without several layers of clothing. She reasoned that a cheap motel would have been more comfortable, but when she took in the scene outside the window, she was struck again by how beautiful it was here. Icicles hung from the branches, glittering in the sunlight. Luke was already in the kitchen, and the aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air.

“You’re finally awake,” he observed.

“What time is it?”

“It’s almost noon.”

“I guess I was just tired. How long have you been up?”

“A couple of hours. Trying to keep this place warm enough to be habitable isn’t as easy as you think.”

She didn’t doubt that. Gradually, her attention was drawn toward the window. “Have you ever been here during the winter?”

“Just once. I was little, though. I spent the day building snowmen and eating roasted marshmallows.”

She smiled at the image of him as a boy before growing serious. “Are you ready to talk yet? About what made you change your mind?”

He forked a piece of bacon and removed it from the pan. “Nothing, really. I guess I just finally got around to listening to common sense.”

“That’s it?”

He set down the fork. “I drew Big Ugly Critter in the short go. And when it came time to actually ride…” He shook his head, not finishing the thought. “Anyway, afterwards, I knew that it was time to hang up the spurs. I realized I was done with it. It was killing my mom little by little.”

And me
, she wanted to say. But didn’t.

He glanced over his shoulder, as if hearing her unspoken words. “I also realized that I missed you.”

“What about the ranch?” she asked.

He scooped the scrambled eggs onto two plates.

“We’ll lose it, I guess. Then try to start over again. My mom’s pretty well-known. I’m hoping she’ll land on her feet. Of course, she told me not to worry about her. That I should be more concerned with what I’m going to do.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.” He turned and brought both plates to the table. A pot of coffee was waiting, along with the utensils. “I’m hoping that this weekend is going to help me figure that out.”

“And you think we can pick up right where we left off?”

“Not at all,” he said. He arranged the plates on the table and pulled out her chair. “But I was hoping that we could maybe start over.”

 

 

After they ate, they spent the afternoon building a snowman, just as he once did as a child. While they rolled the sticky snowballs into ever-larger boulders, they caught each other up on their lives. Luke described the events in Macon and South Carolina and what was happening at the ranch. Sophia explained that the state of affairs with Marcia had driven her to spend all her time at the library, leaving her so far ahead in her reading that she doubted she’d have to study for the next two weeks.

“That’s one of the good things about trying to avoid your roommate,” she commented. “It improves your study habits.”

“She surprised me last night,” Luke remarked. “I wouldn’t have thought she’d do something like that. Based on the circumstances, I mean.”

“I wasn’t surprised,” Sophia said.

“No?”

She thought about it, wondering how Marcia was doing. “Okay. Maybe I was a
little
surprised.”

 

 

That evening, as they snuggled on the couch beneath a blanket, the fireplace roaring, Sophia asked, “Are you going to miss riding?”

“Probably a little,” he said. “Not enough to do it again, though.”

“You sound so sure of that.”

“I’m sure.”

Sophia turned to study his face, mesmerized by the reflection of firelight in his eyes. “I’m kind of sad for your mom,” she said. “I know she’s relieved that you stopped, but…”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sad, too. But I’ll make it up to her somehow.”

“I think having you around is all she really wanted.”

“That’s what I told myself,” he said. “But now, I’ve got a question for you. And I want you to think about it before you answer. It’s important.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you busy next weekend? Because if you’re free, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked.

“I’m trying to start over. That’s what you do, right? Ask someone out?”

She leaned up, kissing him for the first time that day. “I don’t think we have to start all the way over, do we?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, too, Sophia.”

 

 

They made love that night, then again on Monday morning, after sleeping in late. They had a leisurely brunch, and after taking a walk, Sophia watched Luke load up the truck from the warmth of the cabin, sipping her coffee. They weren’t the same as they once had been. She reflected that in the few months they’d known each other, their relationship had evolved into something deeper, something she hadn’t anticipated.

They hit the road a few minutes later and settled into the drive, making their way down the mountain. The sun reflected against the snow and produced a harsh glare that caused Sophia to turn away, leaning her head against the truck’s window. She glanced over at Luke in the driver’s seat. She still wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she graduated in May, but for the first time, she began to wonder whether Luke might be free to follow her. She hadn’t voiced those thoughts to him, but she wondered whether her plans had played a role in his decision to walk away from his career.

She was musing over these questions in a warm and peaceful haze, on the verge of dozing, when Luke’s voice broke the silence.

“Did you see that?”

She opened her eyes, realizing that Luke was slowing the truck.

“I didn’t see anything,” she admitted.

Surprising her, Luke slammed on the brakes and pulled his truck to the side of the highway, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror. “I thought I saw something,” he said. He put the truck into gear and shut off the engine, flicking on the flashers. “Give me a second, will you?”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. I just want to check something out.”

He grabbed his jacket from behind his seat and hopped out of the truck, pulling it on as he walked toward the rear of the truck. Over her shoulder, she noted that they’d just rounded a curve. Luke checked in both directions, then jogged to the other side of the road, approaching the guardrail. Only then did she realize that it was broken.

Luke peered down the steeply sloping embankment, then quickly swiveled his head toward her. Even from a distance, she could sense the urgency in his expression and body language. Quickly, she hopped out of the truck.

“Grab my phone and call 911!” he shouted. “A car went off the road here, and I think someone’s still in it!”

And with that, he climbed through the broken section of the guardrail, vanishing from sight.

L
ater, she would recall the events that followed in a series of quick-flash images: Making the emergency call and then watching Luke descend the steep embankment. Running back to the truck in panic for a bottle of water after Luke said he thought the driver was still moving. Clinging to bushes and branches as she scrambled down the wooded incline and then noting the state of the wreck – the crumpled hood, quarter-panel nearly sheared off, the jagged cracks in the windshield. Watching Luke struggle to open the jammed driver’s-side door while trying to keep his balance on the steep slope, a slope that became a sheer cliff face only several feet from the front of the car.

But most of all, she remembered her throat catching at the sight of the old man, his bony head pressed against the steering wheel. She noted the wisps of hair covering his spotted scalp, the ears that seemed too big for him. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle. A gash in his forehead, his shoulder cocked wrong, lips so dry they’d begun to bleed. He had to be in terrible pain, yet his expression was oddly serene. When Luke was eventually able to wrench the door open, she found herself moving closer, struggling to keep her balance on the slippery incline.

“I’m here,” Luke was saying to the old man. “Can you hear me? Can you move?”

Sophia could hear the panic in Luke’s voice as he reached over, gently touching the man’s neck in search of a pulse. “It’s weak,” he said to her. “He’s in really bad shape.”

The old man’s moan was barely audible. Luke instinctively reached for the water bottle and poured some water into the cap, then tilted it to the man’s mouth. Most spilled, but the drops were enough to wet his lips and he was able to choke down a swallow.

“Who are you?” Luke inquired gently. “What’s your name?”

The man made a sound that came out in a wheeze. His half-open eyes were unfocused.
“Ira.”

“When did this happen?”

It took a long moment for the word to come.
“atur
…
day
…
”

Luke glanced at Sophia in disbelief before focusing on Ira again. “We’re getting you help, okay? The ambulance should be here soon. Just hold on. Do you want some more water?”

At first, Sophia wasn’t sure Ira had heard Luke, but he opened his mouth slightly and Luke poured another capful, dribbling in a small amount. Ira swallowed again before mumbling something unintelligible. Then, with a slow rasp, the words separated by breaths:
“Edder
…
Fo
…
I
…
ife
…
Roof
…
”

Neither Sophia nor Luke could make sense of it. Luke leaned in again.

“I don’t understand. Can I call someone for you, Ira? Do you have a wife or kids? Can you tell me a phone number?”

“Edder
…
”
 

“Better?” Luke asked.

“No
…
Edd
…
edder
…
in
…
car
…
roof
…
”
 

Luke turned to Sophia, uncertain. Sophia shook her head, automatically running through the alphabet… getter, jetter, letter…

Letter?

“I think he’s talking about a letter.” She bent closer to Ira, could smell illness on his faint breath. “Letter? That’s what you meant, right?”

“Ess
…
,”
Ira wheezed, his eyes closing again. His breaths rattled like pebbles in a jar. Sophia scanned the interior of the car, her gaze falling on several items strewn on the floor beneath the caved-in dashboard. Clinging to the side of the car, she worked herself around to the rear, making for the other side.

“What are you doing?” Luke called out.

“I want to find his letter…”

The passenger side was less damaged and Sophia was able to pull open the door with relative ease. On the floor lay a thermos and a misshapen sandwich. A small plastic bag filled with prunes. A bottle of water… and there, up in the corner, an envelope. She reached in, her feet sliding before she caught herself. She extended her reach with a grunt, grasping the envelope between two fingers. From across the car, she held it up, noting Luke’s incomprehension.

“A letter for his wife,” she said, closing the door and making her way back to Luke. “That’s what he was saying earlier.”

“When he was talking about the roof?”

“Not roof,” Sophia said. She turned the envelope around so Luke could read it before sliding it into her jacket pocket. “Ruth.”

 

 

An officer with the highway patrol was the first to arrive. After scrambling down the slope, he and Luke agreed that it was too risky to move Ira. But it took forever for the EMTs and ambulance to arrive, and even when they did, it was clear that there wasn’t a safe way to get him out of the car and up the snowy slope on a stretcher. They would have needed triple the manpower, and even then it would have been a challenge.

In the end, a large tow truck was called, which increased the delay. When it arrived and moved into the proper place, a cable was rolled out and hooked to the car’s rear bumper while the EMTs – improvising with the seat belts – secured Ira in place to minimize any jostling. Only then was the car winched slowly up the slope and finally onto the highway.

While Luke answered the officer’s questions, Sophia remained near the EMTs, watching while Ira was loaded onto the stretcher and given oxygen before he was rolled into the ambulance.

A few minutes later, Luke and Sophia were alone. He took her in his arms, pulling her close, both of them trying to draw strength from each other, when Sophia suddenly remembered that she still had the letter in her pocket.

 

 

Two hours later, they waited in the crowded emergency room of the local hospital, Luke holding Sophia’s hand as they sat beside each other. In her other hand, she held the letter, and every now and then she’d study it, noting the shaky scrawl and wondering why she’d given the nurse their names and asked to be updated on Ira’s condition, instead of simply handing over the letter to be placed with Ira’s belongings.

It would have allowed them to continue the trip back to Winston-Salem, but when she recalled the look on Ira’s face and the urgency he obviously felt about finding the letter, Sophia felt compelled to make sure the letter didn’t get lost in the hustle and bustle of the hospital. She wanted to hand it to the doctor, or better yet, to Ira himself…

Or that was what she told herself, anyway. All she really knew was that the almost peaceful expression Ira had been wearing when they found him made her wonder what he’d been thinking or dreaming about. It was miraculous that he’d survived his injuries given his age and frail state. Most of all, she wondered why, to this point, no friends or family had come bursting through the doors of the emergency room, frantic with worry. He’d been conscious when they’d wheeled him in, which meant Ira probably could have told them to call someone. So where were they? Why weren’t they here yet? At a time like this, Ira needed someone more than ever, and —

Luke shifted in his seat, interrupting her thoughts. “You know that we’re probably not going to be able to see him, right?” he asked.

“I know,” she said. “But I still want to know how he’s doing.”

“Why?”

She turned over the letter in her hands, still unable to put the reasons into words. “I don’t know.”

 

 

Another forty minutes passed before a doctor finally emerged from behind the swinging doors. He went first to the desk and then, after the nurse pointed them out, approached them. Luke and Sophia stood.

“I’m Dr. Dillon,” he said. “I was told that you’ve been waiting for a chance to visit Mr. Levinson?”

“Do you mean Ira?” Sophia asked.

“You’re the ones who found him, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask what your interest is?”

Sophia almost told the doctor about the letter then but didn’t. Luke sensed her confusion and cleared his throat. “I guess we just want to know that he’s going to be okay.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t discuss his condition since you’re not family,” he said.

“But he’s going to be okay, right?”

The doctor looked from one to the other. “By all rights, you shouldn’t even be here. You did the right thing by calling the ambulance. And I’m glad you found him when you did, but you don’t have any further responsibility. You’re strangers.”

Sophia looked at the doctor, sensing he had more to say, watching as he finally sighed.

“I don’t really know what’s going on here,” Dr. Dillon said, “but for whatever reason, when Mr. Levinson heard you were here, he asked to see you. I can’t tell you anything about his condition, but I must ask that you keep the visit as short as possible.”

 

 

Ira appeared even smaller than he had in the car, as though he’d shrunk in the last few hours. He lay in the partially reclined hospital bed, his mouth agape, his cheeks hollow, IV lines snaking out of his arm. A machine next to his bed was beeping in rhythm to his heart.