No More Bullies Read Free Page B

grip. “You okay?”
    â€œI’m fine.” Joyce straightened as best she could. “What do you want me to do?”
    â€œI want you to come over here and sit on this sign,” Gene said, leading his pregnant wife by the hand toward the driver’s side of the car. “Watch your step.”
    â€œSit where? What are you talking about? Gene!”
    â€œRight over here.” Gene pointed to the road sign as he helped Joyce through the snow. “Careful now. All you have to do is sit on the sign and try to put as much weight on it as you can. We don’t have a jack, but if you can bounce on the sign a bit, I think the car will come off the ground enough that I can get the spare tire on.”
    Joyce recognized her husband’s incredible presence of mind and ingenuity in rigging the lever and fulcrum from the post and toolbox in the freezing cold. She didn’t even bother to question whether it was dangerous for her or the baby to be bouncing on a road sign. She carefully stepped up to the sign, turned, and planted herself on it. Then, by pushing against the ground with her feet, she raised her end of the signpost for the first bounce. She relaxed her legs and let the sign sink beneath her.
    â€œDon’t bounce too hard!” Gene called, kneeling in the snow next to the wheel well, waiting for the precise moment when the car raised enough to slide the tire on. “I don’t want the post to snap.” With a grunt, he shoved the tire closer.
    The Ford inched off the ground, slightly at first, as the post caved in the top of the toolbox with a crunch.Another bounce, and the Ford creaked upward six more inches. They needed two more, if the lever could just hold long enough!
    Gene worked feverishly, shoving the tire into the wheel well. “Keep going! Sit as close to the end as you dare!” He put his shoulder under the wheel well, ready to push up with the next bounce. “One more bounce!” The signpost was bowing on the ends. It wouldn’t last much longer. “Once more, now! Bounce on it, now!”
    As Joyce bounced on the edge of the sign, the car eased upward just far enough. Gene slammed the wheel onto the lugs and held it while the car came back down on the tire.
    â€œHallelujah!” he shouted, scrambling quickly to retrieve the lug nuts with his bare fingers. The cold bit into his skin, but he couldn’t care less. He had to get that tire secure. He twirled on one lug nut, then another, then another. His fingers felt like tree trunks as he reached for the tire iron to cinch down the nuts. The cold iron stuck to his hands but he kept working until—
    â€œOkay!” The tire was on, fit and snug.
    Joyce was still sitting on the road sign like a child on the low end of a teetertotter. Gene bounded through the snow to help her off the sign before she slipped into the snow.
    â€œWe did it!” he cried as he wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?”
    â€œI’m okay. Just freezing!”
    He got her back in the car, closed her in against the cold, then he returned to that blessed, hardworking, God-sent road sign. Exhausted and nearly frozen, he mustered his strength, picked up the post, and lugged it back to where he’d found it, dropping it back in the hole. It was tilting a bit, but it was back on the job—not that many travelers might be along to see it anytime soon.
    Gene hurried to the car and jumped in behind the steering wheel. He tried to squeeze his fingers around the wheel, but it took several minutes before the feeling returned to his fingers enough for him to drive. “Thank You, Lord,” he said.
    â€œYes, indeed. Thank You, sweet Jesus,” Joyce echoed. “And now, please help us get to the hospital.”
    Gene revved the engine that had continued running through the entire ordeal, and they were off again, Joyce’s contractions growing more frequent and