The Day Everything Went Wrong


Photo Credit: Luiza Decenzi

Courtesy of Luiza Decenzi

Havana Garrett, Editor in Chief

It was a sunny May afternoon. My brother had recently gotten his drivers license and we were sharing a car. I sat in my room scrolling through my phone anxiously awaiting for him to return so that I could take the car to pick up my friend. As soon as he was done with the car I took it and began driving to pick up my friend, since I was in a hurry and it was only beginning to heat up, I forgot that my car had a tendency to overheat.  

The car ride started out normal, I blasted the A.C. and turned up the radio. It wasn’t until I arrived at my friend’s house, about thirty minutes later, when I realized that my temperature gauge was as high as it could go. I quickly shut off the air conditioning and rolled the windows down, expecting everything to be fine if I just ignored the problem. 

Another thirty minutes passed and we found ourselves in the Jimmy John’s Drive Thru, basking under the glow of summer air and the smell of sandwiches. While I was ordering, it seemed like the best option would be to turn off my car for a few seconds. As I finished ordering, I turned the key but the car refused to start. With the help of the Jimmy John’s employees pushing the car, we were able to get out of the drive thru line. My friend and I sat on the bench indulging in our sandwiches as we waited for the car to cool down enough to be able to be driven. 

After waiting an appropriate amount of time we got back in the car and began to drive to my house. We were only about eight minutes away and we were sure we’d be able to make it. After three minutes, we were stranded on the side of the road with an overheated car and nobody in sight. We got out and tried to fix the car, but we realized quickly that the trunk of my 2005 Subaru outback only had supplies that would be useful if there was an emergency event where the dress code was “things my parents wouldn’t let me wear” and there were no supplies that would be useful to our current situation. 

My friend suddenly yelled, pointing to a trail of hives up my leg. I had completely forgotten that I’m allergic to sagebrush and we were stuck on the side of the road, surrounded by nothing but sagebrush. I’m no stranger to hives, but normally I’m able to safely remove myself from the situation, this time the only alternative to the field of sagebrush would be standing in the middle of the road, so I chose to stay put and watch as the hives spread.

Fortunately, all stories must end and after an oil change and a replaced radiator my car now drives how it was originally intended, and I’m able to turn the air conditioner on without fear of it breaking down, but I will always remember the fear that accompanies a hunk of metal unable to travel.