Why you should always keep a fire extinguisher in your car- Part 2

So there I was, stranded in the middle of the canyon with no cell-phone reception, and a car whose engine was ablaze.

I ran to the trunk, where I got the trusty fire extinguisher, and managed to put out the blaze (thank you, husband.) White fire extinguisher powder covered the engine and foul-smelling smoke filled the air.

I called the operator at the emergency call box and called Triple A. They said they would be there, but that it would take an hour or more to get to me.

By now it was 11:30 PM, and the turn-out was very, very dark. I locked myself in the car and sat there, stunned and alone. Did I mention that it was very dark? I began feeling frightened, and I started to pray.

"Jesus, please let the tow-truck come soon. Please don't let any mass-murderers come out of the bushes to kill me. Please don't let the car explode. Please keep me safe. Please keep me safe."

After an indeteriminable amount of time, a car pulled over and stopped next to mine. The driver, a sagging-pants wearing white guy with a back-wards baseball cap and a cigarette in his mouth got out of the car and walked up to my door, smiling.

Resisting the urge to scream, I cautiously unrolled my window an inch.

"Hey, are you in some kind of sh*t?" He asked. "Are you in trouble?"

"My-car-had-a-fire-but-the-two-truck-is-on-its-way." I said quickly, shrinking into a small ball of fear in the seat of my car, but trying to look brave so that maybe he would go away.

At this point, teenagers began unloading from the car. There were two girls and two guys, all of them had cigarettes, and all but the driver were drinking beer. Most of them looked around the ages of 18 or 19.

"Well," the backwards-baseball cap potential mass murderer said, "We saw your car, and we thought, 'Hey, what would Jesus do?' So we decided to stop and see if you needed any help."

I rolled my window down a few more inches. "Thank you for stopping," I said. "But the tow-truck should be here soon."

"Okay. We'll wait with you." The guy said.

The other teenagers were crowding around my car, and they offered me a beer and a cigarette. I cautiously opened my door and introduced myself.

I don't drink or smoke, but I was very touched that they offered. I was also touched that they had stopped in the name of Jesus. I decided that since they came in the name of Jesus, this must be my answer to prayer.

To make a long story short, they stayed with me until the tow-truck driver got there, and then they even offered me a ride. By that time, I was more terrified by the grizzly looking driver than of them. I was fairly certain that the driver of the teenage car wasn't drinking, so they gave me a ride home.

As soon as I got reception I called my husband. That was a fun phone call.

"Where are you?" He asked, alarmed.

"I am on my way home. I am okay. I set the car on fire but I will be home soon."

"You What!?" He exclaimed, and that's when we lost reception again.

The moral of this story: Don't set your car on fire. Oh, and you really never know how God will answer a prayer.

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