Susan felt it surround her like a warm sweater fresh from the dryer, that sense or smell of something in the air. She had to get into her new red convertible and drive with the radio blasting. She raced toward a feeling of well being and strength. Stopping at a red light the car next to her had their radio blasting too, she changed the channel so their music blended, floating on the perfect air. The other driver smiled at her as he sped off.
“How nice,” she thought as she turned toward the mountain.
She hugged the center line of the curving road slowing just enough to prevent driving over the cliff. She had to resist the urge to close her eyes and tilt her head back, letting the sun and wind kiss her face. She felt young and vibrant and free. Halfway up the mountain Susan pulled over driving as close to the edge as she could and wondered what it would feel like to fly. She left the radio on and sat on the hood of her car. She was mesmerized by the sky’s clear pure beauty. Lying back, she let the music carry her.
“How I love the clarinet,” she whispered as she listened to the ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ and silently thanked George Gershwin for writing it.
“I wish I had learned to play an instrument,” she mused. “There are a lot of things I wish I had done.”
Susan pretended she was on vacation and flying over the ocean to a far away place. “I can practically feel the movement of the plane,” she thought. Perfect clouds formed perfect shapes in her perfect sky.
“This is wonderful. I love that I have such a good imagination.”
Susan sat up, keeping her eyes on the pure white clouds that seemed to float just out of reach.
“Oh my,” she whispered, as the car slowly went over the cliff. “I guess I forgot to set the emergency brake.” She pressed her back against the windshield. “So this is how it feels to fly.” Susan stretched her arms wide as she floated on her pure clean air.
The policeman reached in and turned off the radio as it blasted ‘Islands in the Sun.’ No one could figure out how she stayed on the hood of her car as it careened down the mountain, and even stranger, the smile that was on her face. The paramedics gently laid her on the gurney, then spread a sheet over her, pulling the straps tight across her chest. As they lifted the gurney into the ambulance they heard,
“WEEEEE”.
“Didn’t you check her pulse?” the doctor asked.
“I thought you did.”
“She isn’t dead.”
“Of course she’s dead. Who could survive that fall?”
“She didn’t really fall, she rode down the mountain.”
“It’s probably just the last of the air escaping her lungs. Lift the sheet and take her pulse.”
“You lift the sheet and take her pulse, you’re the doctor.”
“You’re as much of a doctor as I am.”
“Not really. You can operate, I can’t.”
“Then operate that sheet and take her pulse. We need to know if she goes to the morgue or the hospital.”
From under the sheet they heard a low moan,
“Take me to the hospital. My back hurts a little.”
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