The Power of Kindness

I awoke one morning at three a.m. to the impatient demands of my older sister for me to wake up and get ready to leave. I was fifteen years old, and she, my younger sister, and I had spent the previous week visiting our mother who had recently remarried and moved to another city that was a four hour drive from where we lived. My older sister, Tiffany, had to work later that day so it was necessary for us to leave unreasonably early, which required us to get moving at a time of morning that my teenage self believed to be a time no one should ever experience consciously.

Tiffany was nineteen and had her own car, so it was her responsibility to transport the three of us back home to our small home town while safely traveling through a large metropolitan city via the interstate. I'm not sure I even remember reaching the interstate because I opted to spend the trip in the back seat of the car sleeping. This would be one of the few times that I ever conceeded the front seat to my younger sister, Leslie, who had decided to sleep as well, taking advantage of the reclining seat. The low frequency tone of the engine provided an ideal background noise for a sublime continuation to the sleep we had been prematurely interrupted from. The first hour of the journey was the process of arriving in the city that we would have to travel through and I was blissfully unaware of anything and everything until we were at least thirty miles on the other side of the city.

I heard a loud noise that jarred me from my slumber and I had thought that maybe Tiffany had driven over something that was on the interstate. I didn't stir initially until she shouted at me to wake up. I arose from lying down in the back seat and she frantically told me that we were being followed and that she believed that our pursuers had thrown something at the car. My first instinct was to tell her to speed up and lose them somehow. The only problem was, as Tiffany informed me, that the car wasn't handling normally and that she was afraid to drive any faster than she was. The next thing that I knew, the car shifted to the right abruptly as Tiffany suddenly and without signaling, exited the interstate after slightly missing the exit and driving off the pavement. She was able to shake the car pursuing us as the drivers apparently valued their vehicle too much to navigate the bar ditch.

Relieved, Tiffany confirmed to me that the car was no longer behind us, but now that we were no longer distracted by that danger it was clear that she was driving on a flat tire. None of us had ever changed a flat before. I was more than willing to try but my sister was unconvinced that I would be able. Fortunately, there was a flashing marquee on the access road that seemed to be some type of establishment that was open for business before six a.m. Tiffany slowly eased the car down the access road and pulled into the parking lot of this combination truck stop and restaurant. She got out of the car and as I opened my door, she demanded that I stay inside while she looks for someone who can help. The two of us had always mixed about like oil and water, so naturally I argued and objected but she won this one. Now that the car had stopped, Leslie finally woke up and I gave her the shortened version of what she had missed while she slept. She was understandably upset and wanted to see Tiffany, but I told her that we were to wait until she returned.

After being inside for ten minutes or so, Tiffany returned with a man that was clearly an employee of the establishment. He was a man who serviced the eighteen-wheelers who stopped there and began to inspect the tire that had gone completely flat. Tiffany told us to get out of the car and after we did, the three of us entered the restaurant area of the truck stop.

I was so glad that we were able to go inside. The outside air was so cold that morning, and Tiffany had left us inside the car without leaving the car running or the heater on. The only problem was that the restaurant was so large and open that any heat system that was present was ineffective, so while we waited for the man to return we were uncomfortably cold. It seemed like an eternity while we waited but eventually, the man returned with something small in his hand.