The darkness was pierced by two headlights. Briefly, as they cut across the shoulder of the highway the light gives way to the shape of a person bowing and twisting against the lug nuts on the rear passenger side of a not-so-new anymore Honda.
Motorists continued to pass by, and either in spite of the cold or because of it, no one stopped to help her for a long while. Her name is Adira, a name that her parents told her was rooted in strength.
As she continued to struggle to remove the last lug nut, a red pick-up truck coasted to a halt alongside the shoulder. Without taking her eyes off the task in front of her, Adira noted it was one of those trucks that was bigger than needed for everyday driving. She also noticed that even in the dim light of this winter evening, the truck was pristine. No gray sheen of caked-on road snow, nothing. Through her peripheral vision Adira watched the truck come to a halt a few feet behind her own car.
It wasn’t long before a man stepped out on the passenger side of the vehicle. Adira, still staring at that last lug nut, but now crossing the tire iron to her right hand, noticed the man was clean cut, and wore expensive looking leather coat. She imagined he knew little to nothing about cars, even in the simple realm of tire changing.
"Need some help?" He cried out over the din of the passing traffic.
"No thanks," on her knees, Adira finally turned to face the approaching man.
He still moved towards her, brown dress shoes crunching on the snow that had accumulated on the side of the road. "You seem to be having trouble."
"I'm fine, really."
Still the man moved forward, "I can help..."
Not even a second passed before Adira had drawn a revolver from her waist, leveling it at the unknown man. "Tell your story walkin' buddy. I'm fine. Save your heroics for the next damsel."
The stranger's eyes widened, hands popping up in front of him, waving. "Whoa, ok, ok! Sorry, I'm going." He began backing away.
Adira heard the man's car door slam shut, soon after the engine revved hard and the truck sped off the shoulder and back into the night.
Truth be told, Adira didn’t know if the man had meant ill or not, but she was not going to chance it on this night. After all, she was already late for Christmas dinner with her parents. In addition to her parents passing on the history of her name, they had also told her that fortune favored the prepared.
She returned to that final pesky lug nut, applied the tire iron, and cranked as hard as she could. It moved.
