It's a Beautiful Day to Die

I've been trying to figure it out. Is it stress, fatigue, or feverishness that triggers it? Since last fall, I've had this dream at least once a week, waking up at 3:00 a.m. in a sweat.

It’s 6:45 a.m. and I’m driving north on Route 15. The sun has risen above the tree line, splashing glorious golden rays across endless pastures and hayfields freshly greened by late spring in our northeastern state. Lyrics float into my mind, “Blue skies, smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies do I see.”

Traffic is just how I like it: None in front of me. For whatever reason, following other vehicles has always made me inattentive. I like the open road and a clear view of any creatures or other disruptions that enter the roadway. I have music playing through the car speakers connected to my phone, and I’m soaking in the reassurances of eternal love when a deer leaps in front of my car. There’s no helping it; we’re gonna collide.

“What the flock?” I holler, attempting to avoid swearing even though I can’t avoid the animal. I’ve slammed on the brakes, but I know better than to swerve at 50 mph. At impact, I realize it’s buck, and those antlers might just come through my windshield. “Sh!t!” slips from my lips as I hold on for dear life. Instantly, I got my first airbag experience, but it probably saved me from an antler jab. “Holy cow, but this crash is making a lot of noise,” was a thought that flashed in my brain just before a second collision at the rear quarter panel spun my Corolla like a top. My neck and back, recently healed from a rear-ending by an inattentive driver, announced their injuries to my mind. “Goddamnit.” So much for not swearing.

I became aware that my car had stopped moving, but the beautiful day that had embraced me minutes earlier was replaced by pain and disorientation. “I need to call for help. I need to call my work and tell them I’m going to be late. I’ll have to call my wife, but since she can’t drive right now, I’ll have to get a ride with someone else. Oh, crap. I hope I’m paid up on my car insurance! Is the deer okay? Mother-flocking buck.” My thoughts raced, but my eyes remained closed. “If I don’t open my eyes, none of this happened,” I reasoned.

“Hey! Hey, Mister! Are you okay?” I knew it wasn’t God talking to me because He knows my name isn’t “Mister.” Still, the voice seemed to be coming from the clouds. That’s when I remembered that my eyes were shut. I opened them, but nothing was clear. I blinked a few times, but I still couldn’t see. “Oh,” I realized. “My glasses aren’t on my face, and I can’t see to look for them.”

The voice came closer, still calling to me, and then I heard him gasp and whisper, “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” He said it under his breath, or he thought he did.

“What? What are you talking about?” I said, but he didn’t reply. “I need my glasses. Can you see my glasses?” Still no response. Had the accident taken his hearing? I felt exhausted from speaking, so I sat silently. “The first responders will sort out everything. I’ll just wait for them.” Extreme weariness overtook me, and I slept.

“In tragic news today, a local man driving to work was killed when a large buck jumped in front of his car, causing a collision with his small Toyota and a box truck. The driver of the truck suffered minor injuries. Police say this was a freak accident and no charges are pending. Let’s hear from our reporter at the scene.”

“Police say there was nothing the driver could have done to avoid the collision, and speed was not a factor. Neither driver was impaired in any way. The driver of the Corolla died as a result of being impaled by the buck when the animal attempted to get up and run off after the initial crash and was hit by the box truck, sending it into the smaller vehicle’s windshield. Witnesses say the driver of the car appeared to be attempting to speak moments before he lost consciousness.”