Satan in the SUV

You knew it would happen. Yesterday's angelic tale was perfectly balanced by today's events.

Today I saw Satan.

Right now, some of you are conjuring up visions of the the evil one with his red skin, pointed tail and horned head. But he wasn't like that.

Others are are picturing half man, half goat. You can see his hairy goat legs, hear the clop of his cloven hooves and almost smell his pungent animal odor. But he wasn't like that.

Many would anticipate that he would be showing himself in his legendary serpentine guise. But he wasn't like that, either.

Satan, in fact, showed himself to me as what appeared to be a short, perky, thirty-something, mother of two with a pixie haircut. Please don't laugh, this is serious and you may be the next victim visited by this soulless monster.

Most people think that midnight is the devil's hour and the cemetery is the devil's playground. Think again!

Think: I-75, rush hour.

I have seen many demons materialize out of thin air on our highways; innocent people suddenly possessed by the minions of hell. I have seen sweet little ladies transformed into bloodthirsty wolves behind the steering wheels of Cadillacs. I have seen innocent teens in fuel-efficient imports on our city streets smile and reveal the venomous fangs and forked tongues of snakes. I have seen fire and brimstone spewing from the mouths of mild mannered men in Ford pickups and caught brief glimpses of the quiet ones committing unspeakable atrocities in the cocooned, climate-controlled comfort of Germany's best. I have seen a lot. But, today... today can honestly say that I have seen Satan.

So here it was, I-75, rush hour and, as should be expected at rush hour in Florida during tourist season, traffic was barely moving. Well, most of it was barely moving, there was a large dark object visible in my rear view mirror. I watched it slithering from lane to lane. Back and forth. Half in, half out. Insinuating itself into whatever free space it could find. Back and forth, in and out. This large black hole getting ever closer.

You have to know me, I am not an aggressive driver. I drive a Honda Element which is basically a 4-cylinder toy box (with "toy" being the operative word). I am the guy in the right lane doing 55 in a 55. It may sound corny or old-fashioned but I can locate, initiate and terminate turn signals and I know the appropriate times to perform these tasks. I understand the concept of multiple lanes and I try to use each lane for its intended purpose. I can read and comprehend speed limits and, unless natural urges make obeying them a messy proposition, I do adhere to them.

Most of my driving skills were learned in an ancient time. In a time when instructors identified and encouraged the use of both pedals and taught the Two-Second Rule.

The Two-Second Rule helped to easily determine if we were following too closely. It works at any speed and you can try it next time you are driving. Pick an object like a sign or a telephone pole that is a short distance beyond the car in front of you. When the car in front of you passes that object, start counting slowly, one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand. If you arrive at that object before you finish with two one-thousand then you need to back off. It is simple.

The only problem with using this rule is that you cannot do it alone. If you start leaving a two second gap between you and the car in front of you, it is just an open invitation for every hellion on the road to squeeze in in front of you. As soon as someone squeezes in, you have to slow down to widen the gap back to two seconds... which begs someone else to pull in... which means that you have to slow down further...

So, here I am moving with everyone else at 35 mph in a 70 mph zone, watching this cloud of darkness approach from behind. Soon enough it is beside me. Then almost in front of me. Then back alongside of me. Up and back and up and back, head whipping around the whole time, eyes scanning for that opening that will allow her to move ahead one more car length.

Now, you know and I know and even she knows that there is a two second gap in front of me. She sees it and she wants it. I am nothing to her. I am a hindrance. I stand between her and her goal. Her sole mission is to move ahead and she is totally unconcerned if I die in the process. Actually, my demise was beginning to appear to be her sole purpose for being here. I can see her scanning, scanning, her eyes aflame, her head spinning like Regan in the Exorcist.

I have told you that I drive a Honda Element. If you have seen one, it is deceiving. It gives the appearance of being larger than it is because of its shape and height. Don't be fooled, in reality it is no longer than the Honda Civic.

What I haven't told you is that she was driving a Lincoln Navigator. You could have parked five Honda Elements inside of her vehicle and still had room to confortably seat the entire team of Braden River Bobcats, their parents and coaches and still had enough room to bring along all of their equipment. Satan is obviously a little insecure and likes to give the appearance of being larger-than-life. The Navigator was a good choice.

Traffic was not cooperating with the devil. Up she'd rush... then slam on the brakes and slide back... then jam the gas and rush back up... seeing the opening in front... jockeying, trying to reach that opening, head spinning, eyes searching, up and back, up and back... frantic, pushing pedals, pounding the wheel, her blood lust rising...

... it finally became too much for her and, damn the torpedoes (or anyone in her way), she slammed on the gas and jerked the wheel in my direction...

My reactions were immediate and involuntary: I cut my wheel to avoid hitting her and hit the horn to let her know that the bump she was about to feel was in fact another vehicle and the sub-human life form that inhabited it.

Her immediate reaction was not what I had expected. Rather than give that little wave and that oh-did-I-cut-you-off-I'm-terribly-sorry look in the rear view mirror, Satan rolled down her window and flipped me off... the blood-red claw of her middle finger contrasted clearly against the gloss black finish of her massive transport.

As my heartbeat returned to a more normal cadence and I eased back onto the highway, I saw the sun glint off of the Icthus fish symbol on the back of the Navigator. Exceedingly glad to still be alive, I sighed, picked a lamppost just ahead of Satan and somewhere between one-one-thousand and two-one-thousand I just had to wonder, "How would Jesus drive?"