Stranger in the Woods

Chapter 3

The drive out to the site was only about twenty minutes.  A flat bed tow truck led the way while the Suburban I rode in with Harvey, George’s son, and another young quiet boy, followed behind.  They were both young and rode up front.  I sat behind them.  They were both about twenty years old or something like that.  Harvey was driving and telling me again about all the animals that they had to scrape off the road over the last month.  I had already interviewed him and had heard all of his stories, but his voice covered the awkward silence that would have probably prevailed in the truck had he not been speaking.  So I let him continue.  Finally he began to talk of the call this morning about the horse.

“I took the call Mr. Kirkland.”

“Harvey, you can call me Frank.”

“OK…uh, Frank.  I took the call this morning from the trucker.  He said that he hit the horse about six o’clock or so this morning on his first run.”

“Have you found out who the horse belongs to?”  I asked.

“Not yet.  Haven’t gotten any calls about any horses getting out anywhere or anything like that.  Maybe it will have a brand on it or something?”

We drove the remainder of the way in silence as we wound down the curved roads into the Ohio Valley.  The trees were beautiful and were partially covered with the freshly fallen snow from the previous night.  The temperatures had warmed since dawn and the snow had partially melted.  I saw the break lights of the tow truck and we began to slow and I could hear the sound of the tires rolling through the slush as we drove slightly off the edge of the road.  

The tow truck swung out wide into the middle road before pulling back into position.  And then I saw it.  A large white mound off the side of the road about three feet. .  It was whiter than the snow, but I wondered how many had passed it and thought that it was simply a snow mound.   

The carcass was nearly in the ditch at the base of a steeply rising wooded hill that rose up from the roadside.  The red of the tow truck taillights glowed and blinked as the driver got out and began making some adjustments to the straps he had fixed to his lift.  He kept glancing at the mound and making adjustments.  

“Welp.”  Said Harvey as he turned off the Suburban and flipped the key ring on his index finger before putting it into his coat pocket.  “Let’s get out and help load this thing up Chuck.  Man, that is a big horse!”

 I got out after the boys and stood by the Suburban watching them working with the straps.  I took a few pictures of them as they attempted to lift the front of the horse up in order to slip the straps under it.  It took all of them working with all their might to lift it far enough to just barely get the straps into position.  They then went to work fitting them over the horse’s front legs and upper torso.

“Holy crap!  It must have been hit in the head!”  The tow truck driver said.

“What’s wrong?”  I called over.

Harvey looked up in disgust and said, “The front of its face is totally smashed.  It’s completely gross!”

The other boy, Chuck, was looking as if he was about to vomit.  I strolled over and asked if I could help, but they told me no.  I went around the tow truck to get a better look at the front of the horse.  I was a horrible sight.  From the forehead to the nose was ragged and bloody.  Much of the skull had been exposed and the right ear was completely missing.  It must have been a massive impact.  I wondered what the truck looked like.  Even the big rigs that they used to hall the trees out of the woods must have sustained some heavy damage.  I moved a bit closer, trying not to slide down into the slush in the ditch.