On A Snowy Evening
It took us ten minutes to get the car out of the snowy ditch, but suddenly it rolled free. I didn’t know where this mystery girl had come from, but surely she had saved me. I turned to thank her, but she was gone. Squinting in the light of the full moon, I saw the tracks of her narrow boots in the snow, headed off down an overgrown driveway toward a farmhouse I had not noticed before.
Clearly she had wanted to leave without making a scene, but I had to thank her for helping me.
An old woman met me at the door. I smiled. “A young woman helped me get my car out of the ditch tonight,” I said. “Do you have a daughter?”
The old woman shook her head, but as she did I spotted a picture on the wall in the room behind her.
“That’s her,” I said. “That’s the girl who helped me. Who is she?”
“That’s my daughter,” the woman said, “but she couldn’t have helped you.”
“Her car went off the road at the foot of the driveway in a snowstorm.” The old woman’s eyes blazed. “She’s been dead twenty years.”