Rocket Man

I wrote in a previous blog about “making it out of here alive”. I thought I was exaggerating.

A few weeks ago, I was at the cruise ship dock. The company I work for has a number of mini-SUV’s in the fleet there. They use them for tourist excursions.

The daily jeep tour was about to leave when the guide came into my office. The second vehicle in line had a seat belt issue.

“No problem.” I said. “I’ll substitute another one. Just pull the bad one over to the corner.”

He instructed the four elderly tourists to get out and left it idling in park. The guide got in and was about to move it when I realized I needed the car number. So I walked outside.

“Go ahead and handle your customers” I told him. ”I’ll do it”  

I climbed in and pulled the shift lever into drive. Before my foot could touch the gas pedal, the engine red lined and I took off like a missile. Fortunately, no one was standing in front of me as I shot past the first SUV then swerved to avoid hitting the metal fence that surrounds the lot. The vehicle continued to accelerate as I flew out of the narrow exit gate. 
The street is normally filled with flocks of tourists in matching outfits departing from the two huge ocean liners docked there. Miraculously, it was empty. I veered right to avoid jumping the median and “sleeping with the fishes”. I pounded the brakes. Nothing. I turned the key off. Nothing again. Thirty yards ahead, the road hung a sharp right. I knew that there was no way I could make that turn; I was going way too fast.

Up on my left I spied a slow moving truck that carries cruise ship passengers. It was empty except for the driver. He turned directly into my path. I clipped the front of him and catapulted over a high curb taking out a palm tree. I jumped the second and last curb, taking out a bush. Dead ahead was a building with my name written on it. Then the engine died. I turned the wheel and coasted to a stop. I climbed out and surveyed the damage, a smashed-in front and two flat tires. My head was bleeding from where it hit the roof. After gathering my few remaining wits, I made it to the hospital where they hammered seven staples into my scalp. While I was waiting to be discharged, I starting searching for flights to the U.S. mainland; one way.