Her name was Betty. Brown hair, grey eyes, divorced. She had two sons, one eighteen and one nineteen. She had been working at Mike's Wilderness Café just off the I-84 freeway in southern Idaho for five years. Waitresses usually didn't last that long at Mike's but she was exceptional. She worked very hard, had an almost photographic memory and, as a result, had the entire menu stored in her head. She had bought a small house on the outskirts of town. She had an almost new GMC 4wd pickup. She got the truck so she could hunt and fish with her sons.
Just about every weekend when homework was done, they would get in the big GMC and head for one of the many lakes or streams in the area. She had been a big NASCAR fan back home in South Carolina, but had given it up when she moved to Idaho to get away from her abusive ex.
Fall was upon them with the attendant cool weather. She knew that snow would soon be there. That would spell the end of fishing season and the start of deer season. Every year either she or one of her sons would bag a deer and they would be set for meat for most of the winter. Sometimes two of them or, on rare occasions all three of them would get a deer. They would share the extra meat with the old woman who lived next door.
She and her kids were tough, strong people. She would almost bet she could kick her ex's ass. She didn't want to test that theory because she didn't want him to find her. As fall wore into winter, the roads got icy and slick. Snow was falling in early October. The cafe was five miles away if she took the old shortcut, which she did most of the winter. The 4wd allowed her to take the old road in all but the worst weather. She had never missed a day's work. She had never even been late, a real accomplishment considering the locale.
October 29 she jumped in her pickup and headed for the café. Two miles up the road, the pickup suddenly skidded on the frozen ground and rolled over the bank and down the slope. She tried to get out, but her legs were mashed up under the dash board. It was snowing hard and she cursed under her breath for not taking the highway.
Mike looked up from his coffee expecting to see Betty coming through the door at any minute. Time ticked on as he watched the road for some sign of her. Late was not in her vocabulary. An hour later, Mike was really worried. He called the state patrol and told them of his problem. "We'll send someone out right away," the dispatcher promised. The patrol car arrived 30 minutes later.
"Is she here yet?" the officer asked as he came through the door.
"No she isn't," said Mike. "She's never been late before. I called her house but nobody answered. Her boys are in school so if she's not here she should be home."
"I'll see if I can find her," said the patrolman. "Which way does she take?"
Mike pointed at the old road. The officer swore and started down it slowly. It took him and hour to spot the truck. He bailed out of his car and slid down the slope. "Are you Okay?" he asked when he saw Betty.
"I can't move my legs. They're caught under the dash."
"I'll have to radio for help," the officer told her.
"Alright, just don't leave me," Betty begged.
"I'll be right here with you until help arrives," promised the officer.
It took another hour and a half for the rescue group to arrive and another hour to pry Betty out of the truck. By then, Betty was half frozen and shaking badly. "My boys will be home in an hour. Please have someone bring them to me," she asked.
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Now you just relax. There will be a nice warm helicopter waiting for you at the café," he promised. He helped load Betty, crushed legs and all, into the emergency vehicle and they started up the road to the café. When they got there, the helicopter was waiting so they loaded her into the chopper and headed for the nearest hospital.
The boys were surprised to see a patrol car waiting in front of their house. "Uh oh, this can't be good," said John, at nineteen, he was a year older than his brother and attended a community college.
"Sorry to tell you that your mom's in the hospital. Come with me," the officer said.
It was an hour by road to the hospital. When they got there, the emergency room nurse told them that their mother was in intensive care.
"Can we see her?" they chorused.
"Not yet. We have to stabilize her first. She's got some crushed bones and she's lost a lot of blood. We'll keep you informed."
Two days later they finally got to see her. She looked like death warmed over. Several pipes were coming from places on her that didn't used to have holes.
She looked at them. "Looks like I'll miss deer season," she quipped.
"Oh mom," said Jimmy, the youngest, a senior in high school, "we'll get 'em for you." And he started to cry.
"Don't do that, honey; I'll be out of here in no time."
'No time' turned out to be six weeks. The boys had received the insurance money for the truck and had bought her a new one. They reported to the hospital at the assigned date and got a briefing from her doctors who told them how to care for her and what must be done so she could quickly recover. They eventually got her into the truck. Both of her legs were in casts, but she was fine, otherwise.
John read the instructions from the doctor. She had to have a sponge bath at least twice a day. She was not to try to walk for at least a month at which time they would bring her back to the hospital for evaluation.
"Sounds easy enough," declared John.
Getting her into the house was a bit of a struggle, but they managed. They had fixed up the front room for her. That way, she had the telephone and the TV.
Four hours later, John said, "Time for your sponge bath."
"Oh crap," she thought, "I hadn't thought about that."
John and Jimmy came into the room with a big bucket of hot water and enough towels to soak up the Pacific Ocean.
"What are you guys up to?" she asked.
"We're gonna give you a sponge bath," said John.
"Oh, no! I can bathe myself."
"No you can't," said Jimmy. "The doctor gave us explicit instructions on how to keep from hurting you and we're gonna do it. There is no way for you to do this by yourself. Get over it!"
"Mom, you know we love you and want to see you get well as soon as possible. If you just can't stand the thought of people who love you helping you, I can always take you back to the hospital." John declared.
"I've had enough hospital to last me a life time. Okay, you guys, but please take it easy."
