A great beginning to a much awaited weekend getaway to Leamington – Django’s battery died about five miles away from Kingsville. The faint light of sunset hit my eyes through bare winter trees. Summer was still 3 months away and the wind retained its chill. Weather forecast said there might be snow in the evening. Django was old – a 2001 Honda civic, the battery although newer was unpredictable. So I couldn’t blame either of them for leaving me high and dry on a rural Canadian highway. I listened to my doctor and opted to go for two days without phone and laptop. Not too many cars pass though highway-3, in the evening, in winter. I waited for half an hour for a patrol car to pass without any luck. It was indeed time for hike to find help before it got dark.

A functional flash light, blanket, stale water, wimpy peanuts and yes…cognac- I do pack well for emergencies. Took a sip from the bottle, and started walking along the highway with naked forest on either side to keep me company.

It was probably a feral dog or coyote who was following me through the forest; I was able to catch a glimpse of it – black haired and gleaming eyes making a rustling sound, as it ambled along with me. The sound stopped eventually, leading me to believe that it had given up its lazy pursuit. Few cars and trucks went by refusing to stop and night eventually crept in, spreading its cold black blanket around the forest. As soon as I flicked the flashlight on, I heard a guttural growling sound. Unable to muster the courage to point the flashlight into the forest at the source of the hatred, I started to walk faster. And the rusting along the forest hinted that the creature was in hot pursuit.

I couldn’t tell how far I have come, but to my relief a derelict gas station was in sight, lights were on and a few cars were parked in the parking lot. The forest got thinner and eventually gave way to open fields, barns and farms. An owl began to hoot in the forest as if bidding farewell.

The store at the gas station was deserted. The confectioneries in the display were green with mold and there was a strong smell of putrefaction in the store. The people inside the store seemed to have left in a hurry – somebody’s tablet was on one of the tables, a walking stick was resting on one of the chairs, some kid’s action figure toy was lying on the floor. Dialed a local cab company at the pay phone for a cab and the lady on the phone apologetically declined my request, as the gas station was out of their service area. I was left with the only option to wait for the customers or the store owner to arrive. I poured some dark roast coffee and placed a five dollar bill at the cash register and took a seat at the one of the tables gazing at the flurries of snow outside.

And then I my eyes spotted Django – neatly parked between two other cars.