SHE WAS A VERY SAD SIGHT INDEED

It was Feb 1970. I was on the Rogers Pass highway between Revelstoke BC, and Golden BC, driving my 1964 Mercedes 240Diesel.

I had left Tsawwassen about nine hours earlier, and only stopped once for fuel and a quick snack. It was now about eight o’clock in the evening, snowing lightly, and minus ten Celsius. I had been driving for five hours, was getting hungry and very tired. The lights of the oncoming cars seemed extra bright as they filtered through the snow, increasing the urge to get to a warm hotel and a bite to eat. I was on my way to Saskatoon to visit my mother who had been quite sick. I had been tempted to stay in Revelstoke for the night but decided to push on another one and a half hours to Golden.

As I pulled into the hotel parking lot it was snowing a bit harder. The restaurant was closed so I went into the pub for one of those famous pickled eggs they sloughed off to their inebriated patrons.

 In the early 1970’s the pub was just a big hall designed to pour as much beer into their patrons as possible, and by law could only sell junk food. I was pleasantly surprised to discover they had hamburgers and fries on their meager menu. The hockey game was on the Telly, so the place was quite full, but three fellows with an extra chair waved me over to join them. They were a jolly group, all rabid Canuck fans, so we all cheered, yelled, ate, drank, right up till the inevitable happened, and an empty net goal did the Canucks in again. After a one more drink I said goodnight to my new found friends, and was in bed about midnight.

I was up and out cleaning off about six inches of snow from the car by about five AM. Was planning on going non-stop to Saskatoon, figured about a nine hours. The drive east from Golden in any weather is treacherous; the road in the dark with new snow in 1970 was a bit of a nightmare. I was trying to keep the speed up going up one of the long hills shortly after crossing the Kicking Horse river, when suddenly about ten mountain sheep (or goats) appeared in the headlights scattered all over the road. I knew if I stopped (or even slowed down) I would be stuck, and probably slide backwards off the cliff into the river. So, I honked the Mercedes pathetic little horn, and somehow managed to weave my way through the startled animals.  A half hour later the snow was getting a little heavier but it appeared I was through the worst of the long up-hill grades as we (the car and I) approached the long descent into Field BC. I wasn’t making great time but at least I had kept moving, and of course there weren’t to many cars to slow me down – approximately none.

I passed Field, so I realized it would be pretty easy going the rest of the way. The snow eased up a bit as I passed Lake Louise, and I figured it would be about two hours to Calgary, I was trying to keep my speed up as best I could without being to reckless.

As I approached Banff suddenly the snow began to get fairly heavy again, but I figured it would be daylight in another twenty minutes or so, and that would take some of the strain off my eyes at least. In those days the highway went right through the center of Banff and at the main intersection of town there was the first roundabout I had ever seen. I believe there were four or five roads, all joining at one place, it was a little confusing. It was snowing heavier now and I was concentrating on not getting confused. As I entered the roundabout, I was looking for a sign that said Calgary, East, or something similar.

The small pine trees planted along the edge of the road looked like lonely ghosts, arms piled high from the swirling snow, as the headlights struck them momentarily in the turn.

As these trees flashed by my peripheral vision, one seemed more like a ghost than the others.  It was only a fraction of a second; maybe I was getting vertigo from the swirling snow as I turned the circle. In any event I don’t believe in Ghosts.  I thought as I continued through the darkness.

For the next few minutes something about that last tree nagged at me, I started talking to myself out loud.

“Did I really see anything strange?”

 “ Maybe it was a person”

“Naw couldn’t be a person out at this time in this weather.”

“What if it was?”

“Maybe I should go back and have a look”

“But I’m in a hurry, behind schedule”

“Oh I’d better go back, just in case”

So I turned around in the middle of the road, and started back. I had never traveled the roundabout from the east and was a bit confused, but decided to just keep going in a circle and eventually I would pass the place I saw the aberration.

I was going very slow peering through the snow when suddenly – there it was, a rather small human sort of figure, not moving, about six inches of snow on the top, bottom completely under snow, like a statue.

I stopped the car with the high beams trained upon this thing. As I approached it blinked. In an instant I noticed several things, this thing was a girl, she was black, she had no coat, no hat, just gloves and a heavy sweater.

I took her by the hand and led her to the car, she couldn’t walk very well and she did not speak a word as I lifted her into the front seat of the car, after brushing off some of the snow. The car was not all that warm, as I had been keeping it cool to help me keep alert.

When I got in my side I immediately turned on her heat to the maximum and the blower to high. The Mercedes had separate heaters for passenger and driver.

We started off and I asked her if she could feel any heat, she shook her head, and confirmed the point with the sound of her teeth chattering, and her whole body shivering.  I turned the heater on my side to full heat as well. When traveling in winter conditions I always had an extra jacket, a blanket, candles, jumper cables etc. It only took a few minutes before the girls clothing was melting and she was getting very wet. I reached into the back seat and grabbed the blanket and gave it to her.

“I think you should take off that wet sweater and rap the blanket around you.” I said.

She said nothing but she did wrap the blanket around her, over the wet sweater. We drove in silence for about ten minutes, she didn’t say a word or look at me. She was dripping water and shivering very bad and the inside of the car was getting all steamed up. We could only see out the front window with the defrosters on high. I decided not to say anything to her until she seemed to feel more at ease. After another five minutes she looked my way for the first time and gave the slightest hint of a smile. I couldn’t help myself I was bursting to find out why she was out alone in a snowstorm, in the dark, without a coat or hat. It was obvious she couldn’t have been out in this weather very long, dressed like this, despite being covered in snow.

“How on earth did you get stuck out here alone on a night like this?”

She glanced at me and immediately began to cry, not just cry, she was shuddering and shivering and every forth or fifth shudder she would let out a stifled wail. It was terrible. I didn’t know her, so I didn’t know what to do – I wouldn’t have known what to do if I did know her either, as far as that goes.  So I just kept driving.

After another ten minutes of silence I remembered the chocolate bar I had in the glove compartment.

“Excuse me.” I said as I reached across her to open the compartment door.

She cringed and looked at me with terrified wide eyes, until I retrieved the chocolate bar and handed it to her. She accepted and I noticed two things as she unwrapped it, first she was getting her feeling back in her fingers and second she had on what to me looked like two expensive rings. Never having had much interest in rings they didn’t really mean much to me, I just noticed them. We continued to drive in silence as she ate the chocolate bar.

She turned to me and spoke a few words, unfortunately I guess because of her having been so cold or her strange accent I only made out one word that sounded like candy.

“Your very welcome.” I said, thinking she was thanking me for the chocolate.

Now that she at least would look in my direction I decided to ask her, her name.

“Candy.” She said.

“I’m sorry but that is all the candy I have.” I explained.

In a very low soft voice she said.

“No my name is Candy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Candy I thought you were asking for more chocolate.

She looked at me, shook her head and almost laughed.

“My name is Larry.”

She nodded and said something I didn’t catch.

Candy was looking much better, not completely dry, but warm and a little more at ease, so I decided to try again.

“What happened to get you stranded out in this weather in the dark?”

She looked straight ahead for some time and then answered still looking ahead. It sounded like this.

“........arg .... night ....band ... to  car.”

Her words didn’t make much sense.

“I’m sorry Candy I didn’t catch that.”

“I was pushed.”

“Candy I don’t understand, who pushed you?”

I a very low childlike voice she said.

“Husband.”

“Did you say Husband?”

She nodded in the affirmative.

“I don’t understand, are you telling me your Husband pushed you out of the car and drove of leaving you all alone?”

“We had big argue, he just stopped, went around car, opened my door, threw me in snow and drove off.” She said as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

I couldn’t believe my ears; to me this was attempted murder, and the first thing I thought of was to go directly to the police when we arrived in Calgary.

As we drove the next half hour or so Candy told me a little about her situation.

Her husband was an East Indian Doctor, practicing in a small town in mid-western Alberta. I understand they were both from Fiji.

As we entered Calgary I explained to her that I would take her to the police station where I would accompany her and make the appropriate charges.

“No, no, no, not go to police, no, no, bus station.” And she started to cry hysterically again.

Now get this picture, guy driving sort of aimlessly around the city with a hysterical black woman frantically looking out the window trying to see the bus station. Probably no one noticed, but to me every person on the street was taking down my license number and reporting abduction to the authorities. As luck would have it (or maybe Candy was giving me instructions), I can’t remember, we arrived and parked in front of the Bus Station.

“I get out here, go home.” She said, as the tears slowed and her voice steadied.

“I really don’t think you should do this what will he do to you? I still think we should go to the police”

“Go on bus.” Candy said as she opened her door.

I got out my door and went around to help her.

“Have you any money for the bus?”

She shook her head.

I had about forty dollars on me, I gave it to her and she ran into the station without looking back or saying a word.

When I arrived in Saskatoon and told my Mom about Candy, she just said.

“You are such and idiot, she could have charged you with abduction.”

So I just dropped the subject forever.

EPILOGUE

About thirty years after this little situation took place I happened to meet a woman from the little town Candy mentioned. I asked her if they had an East Indian Doctor in her town.

“Yes, as a matter of fact we do.” Why do you ask?

“Do you happen to know the name of his wife?”

“Candy”