The man’s head came back in view and shook me out of my tense daze.

“Your wheel well got bent into the brake when we hit. I’m putting it back,” the man said and then went right back to work.

The man’s explanation sounded believable to me. It sounded like something I had heard my dad say and the man was working right where we hit.

Like a gopher on the prairie, the man’s head popped back up into vision again.

“You’re almost good to go,” the man yelled through the rain which had picked up into a steady fall.

I watched the man walk towards my window again and I rolled it down as he approached.

“I think I got it fixed. Can you start your engine and then come check it out?” The man asked without making eye contact.

Without thinking, I fired up the car then unlocked my door and stepped outside.

I followed the man to the driver’s side wheel. I watched him squat down and grab hold of the crowbar which had been resting on the rubber of the tire.

“You can kind of see it. Your wheel had been all bent up and it wasn’t going to let you drive because of the brake.”

I gave the wheel a quick look, but was more focused on something else. A still puddle just to the left of the man’s foot. I could see a mirror reflection off the puddle because of the harsh light beaming onto it from headlights of my car.