Watch Over You

My hands fumbled for the hazard lights button, slipping off the dashboard three times before I managed to hit it hard enough. I was pulled over on the side of the highway, rain battering the car so hard I could hardly see through the windows. Elvis had sent me out for some supplies because that big storm was about to come in off the ocean.

Unfortunately, it had hit right as I was on my way back from the store. I was two miles down the highway when my white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel wasn’t cutting it anymore. My heart pounded so hard against my chest that I was certain I was having a heart attack. I rubbed my hands together, both to chase away the chill and try to steady them. Cars whizzed by, splashing water as they passed and adding to the torrent coming down on the car.

When the symptoms didn’t fade, even after dry swallowing my anxiety medication, I wiggled my phone out of my pocket to call Elvis. After dialing the number, I dropped it into my lap and put it on speaker phone.

“Hey, are you almost back? The storm’s getting pretty bad.” Elvis sounded genuinely concerned, something that warmed my racing heart. Or maybe he was just worried I was going to crash his car.

“I’m having a panic attack.” I managed to get out between gasps.

“Oh shit, MJ, where are you?”

“Route 14.” I took a shaky breath. “I don’t think I can get back.”

“Just breathe, it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna call you a cab and we’ll get you home.”

“What about the car?”

“I’ll drive it home.” I guess he was going to be in the cab that came to get me. “Here, Myles is gonna stay on the line with you while I get everything arranged.” I was about to tell him not to when he handed the phone off.

“I know I make it worse.” His voice was soft, like he was trying to keep Elvis and the others from overhearing. “But please, just stay on the line until Elvis gets there.” I wedged my body against the door, pulling my knees up so they rested on the steering wheel.

“Tell me about Spokane.” I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked. I hadn’t been back to Washington since I was exiled to California. There really wasn’t a reason to go back; my mother was dead to me and my grandparents came down to visit frequently.

I heard footsteps and then a door closing, like he’d gone into his room to avoid the others. “I sold that apartment, moved into a different one. It’s a little smaller but I’m not home as much as I used to be. Mark Morse, the owner of the guitar shop? He passed away recently.”

“Oh God.” I’d met him a few times and had always liked him.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Soothing things, right?”

“It’s okay.” I closed my eyes, focusing on the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the car. He kept talking about things that had changed since I’d left Spokane, some of the people we both knew, places, even a new traffic law. A few minutes passed and I could feel my breathing and heart rate steady, the feeling of impending doom leaking away. “I’m going to try something. Stay on the line and tell Elvis to stand down.” I slipped my legs back down so I could reach the pedals and buckled up again. “If you hear a crash then you need to call 911.”

“MJ, don’t do that.” His tone was warning, but what could he do at this point? I was already pulling back onto the highway, joining the line of cars just trying to get home before you needed an ark.

“Too late, dude.” The shaking had gone away and while I felt a little lightheaded, it wasn’t anything that would keep me from being able to drive. “Tell Elvis I’m on the way home, should be there in about fifteen minutes.”