Swerve

Wednesday, April 4, 2007 - Posted by Amanda Bast
On the drive to school today, I ended up behind a bus. This bus, as I have discovered on previous drives to school, stops every few feet, so I switched into the left lane to avoid the inconvenience. The car behind the bus decided he didn't want to be behind this bus, so he swerved to the left. The bus was pulled over, and I was in the left lane, so there was adequate room for the car, however, the bus had its left blinker on, and started pulling away from the curb. If you haven't noticed, on the back of buses there is a great big yield sign. Meaning, stay the heck out of the way when the bus has its blinker on. It's the law. But no, this car decides to pass the bus regardless.

So as you can imagine, the car is sandwiched between me and the bus (approaching a red light, nonetheless). He spazzes out and starts swerving remarkabley close to the Bastmobile. Holy crap, I freaked out. In my state of panic, I groped for the horn, but ended up turning on my blinker instead. Yes, my blinker. That sure showed him. He's lucky he didn't hit me, or I'd have turned on my four ways.

On the way home from school, there was a dog walking on the side of the road in Conestogo. I told him to go home, but he did not listen. Instead, he walked out onto the road behind my car, and in front of oncoming traffic. I could not see the dog, but I did see the SUV swerve. The dog came out unharmed on the other side, but he was once again in the path of oncoming traffic. More swerving, but the dog skittered away, safe. I watched this whole ordeal through my rear view mirror, and was yelling the whole time. I hope he made it home ok.

I hate that feeling. Being trapped somewhere, and watching something potentially harmful happen, and have no way to stop it. And you can yell and freak out and get mad, or hope the other cars will swerve. But it all seems rather useless. You have the best intentions, but yell as loud as you may, the guy in the car isn't going to hear your blinker, and the dog isn't going to listen to your pleas to return home.

I've discovered that this feeling occurs more often than I would like it to. I see people I love sandwiching themselves into unsafe situations, as if they are sitting and waiting to get crunched. And I turn on my blinker.

I see people I love running around like lost puppies, looking for a safe haven, but skittering away when what they find is only danger and uncertainty. And all I do is look out my rearview mirror and yell at them with my windows rolled up.

I want to do something, I really do, but my car keeps going. I can't do anything. It makes me feel angry, scared, and totally helpless. I want to cry sometimes. But I can't do anything but keep driving and have faith that they will be taken care of.

It's a funny thing, this driving to school. It's provided me with much more insight than I would have ever imagined. As I continue to drive along, you probably won't hear me yelling, but trust me, I am. Loudly. I am praying and I have faith that you will make it home ok.