A Life Wasted

A Long Hard Night

A few minutes after losing sight of the horse I reached a deadly obstacle. Running straight across my path was a deep creek. It looked more like ditch that had been cut through the field in that it was about eight feet across and deep with high sides. Usually a natural creek would ware down one or both sides, but this one was deep cut and straight. What made it seem like a creek and not a ditch was that it had a solid flow of water running through it. From the bank I couldn't tell how deep the water was, but it ran fast and it had not frozen despite the sub-freezing temperature.

For obvious reason the creek stopped me. If I had to spend the night outside in this weather without a fire I would likely freeze to death. If I got wet there would be no doubt that I would be dead before morning. So I took a few steps back from the creek and looked around. Across the creek there was nothing but darkness, yet in every other direction there were the lights of the small town, but also a growing kaleidoscope of blue lights. I could see north on that four lane road now and saw four sets of police lights speeding down it towards me. It appeared reinforcements were coming from other towns. Still I looked around for another route, but there wasn't one. To get away I would have to cross that creek and keep walk north into that inviting darkness.

There was no real choice. I was not giving up.

I sat down on the bank and eased down into the water. I thought the water might be knee deep, but when I got down in it the water came up to my waste. As I took my first step across the creek the water hit my left side with so much pressure that it climbed up to my neck and wet half my head and most of my long hair. I knew this was bad, but there was nothing else to do but cross the thing. On the opposite bank it was so high that I had a little trouble climbing out but managed. When I stood on the frozen ground I stood still for a moment to collect myself. I was so cold that I had to force myself to breath. I shook to the point of losing control, but forced myself to gain control.

Knowing that I had to keep moving I placed one foot forward. I was shocked to realize that the water on my orange jumpsuit had frozen solid in that brief time. As I moved my leg the thin ice broke from the fabric and fell free. I forced the other foot forward and broke more ice free. Realizing that every part of me was covered with ice I beat my chest and sides to free the ice. Even my hair was frozen and that took more work to break the ice free. I did all this as I walked, slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

It is difficult to describe the level of pain I felt at this point. The best description is to say that the pain was total. Every part of me hurt with an intensity that couldn't be any greater than it was. What got me most was that my brain had shut down to minimum functions. I could see the lights of police cars in the distance but I could no longer hear them. I knew I had to move away from those lights but I couldn't remember why. The need to get away from them was so strong that I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I felt like a zombie as I forced myself to shuffle slowly into the dark.

The county I walked through had no woods. In fact, I hadn't noticed a single tree all night. In the spring the flat ground I walked across would be plowed and planted. In the fall it had been turned with a disc and left that way till spring. But right now it was frozen and solid as a rock, rough and uneven. Since crossing the creek I had been too messed up to run, but even were I in prime condition I would not be able to run across the miles and miles of rough frozen ground.

Central Illinois is big farm country. The kind of place that was originally divided into one square mile plots that became known as "Sections." When the big farmers spoke about land they generally didn't use acres as a unit, but rather sections. A section, a square mile, is 640 acres. I figured out that this land was divided into sections when I spotted my first police car. I had no concept of the time, nor how long I had been walking across the endless and unforgiving field, but I had no problem spotting the lights of a car slowly driving in my general direction. The car's head lights were out, but its spot light was active.

I didn't immediately drop to the ground as the car was a way off and moving slow. I assumed it was a police car from the spot light that swept across the ground. My first thought was that he was driving across the frozen field, but one look at the ground under my feet convinced me this wasn't the case. It would take solid rubber tires, like you'd find on a military vehicle to cross this sharp and jagged ground. I could see the police car well enough to discern that it was a car, not even an SUV, so the odds of all rubber tires was slim. Although it was moving at an angle to my course, it I was moving in a straight line. This made me think of the Ohio farm roads I had seen from my airplane. Straight roads in one mile squares. Roads that divided one man's "section" from another. Dividing roads that would become country roads as the nation progressed. One such road lay invisible somewhere ahead of me.

As best I could calculate the police car was following a road that would pass somewhere ahead of me. It would be smarter to back track, but I've always had a thing about going backwards. I don't do it. Or at least I don't go backwards if there is any choice at all. So I pushed forward as fast as my wobbly walk would allow, hoping to cross a road that for now was hidden from me.

The police car was on me faster than I had figured and I still hadn't crossed a road. At this point he was close enough that I would be outlined by his light should it pass over me. There wasn't anything I could do but lay down and hope he didn't see me, so that is what I did. Now that I had lain down and wasn't moving my body began to shiver uncontrollably. As I laid there shaking and in pain I thought over and over, 'I never back track.' As the police car got so close I could hear its tires crunch down the snow I realized I might need to revise this long held mantra.

When the police car passed me its spot light passed over me. I closed my eyes and put my face into the ground. I knew that my eyes would reflect in the light and that a lot of people could feel it when they were being stared at. I tried to hold still but couldn't stop shaking. The light was only over me for a second, but in that time I felt like my bright orange jump suit was made out of neon. I wasn't overly surprised when the police car passed me by without stopping. It was hard to see a shape on the ground in the dark. The bright orange should have helped but the dark night worked in my favor.

The police car was about a hundred yards past me when I stood up and started walking again. What did shock me was that I had only walked a handful of steps before reaching the road. I had laid so close to the road that had he had his headlights on he would have easily spotted me. But his headlights were out and his focus had been the distant ground illuminated by his spotlight. The spotlight and the cop's focus passed over the top of me. I thought about this as I walked across the road and continued on my journey. I couldn't decide if I'd been lucky or unlucky. If I'd been blessed or if I'd been cursed. The event was a harbinger of that I was sure. I just wasn't sure if it was a harbinger of good or ill. Had the cop seen me I would have been taken immediately to a hospital and treated for the frostbite I suffered from. If he had spotted me I would be put back in jail, but at least I would live. As it was I didn't believe I would survive the night.

Wondering how far it might be to the next section of road I kept walking into the dark night.