Late Night Drive (looking for a Critique)

                                  CHAPTER 1

THE LATE NIGHT DRIVE

The rain continued, intensifying by the hour.  Dark clouds had gathered above the forest and mountainous regions of the Northern Adirondacks.  Crispy brown and yellow leaves were falling off trees at a rather steady rate, a sign that autumns sweep through the mountains had recently passed.  The wet asphalt road below lay witness to scattered clumps of brown leaves.  This dangerous combination of wind, rain and fallen wet leaves set the stage for some slippery and treacherous driving conditions waiting to wreak havoc upon unsuspecting drivers.  However, that didn't stop the sleek Blue 325i BMW from zooming by and continuing up the mountain towards its destination, the Moose Hill Psychiatric Hospital.  Inside the car, a young and very anxious Dr. Steve Evans, Clinical Child Psychiatrist, was being ever so careful not to go into a spin, winding up in some ditch, ten feet below.  Cautiously, he held the wheel with his two white knuckled hands, all the while trying to avoid any slick spots he might encounter along the way. 

Steve continued maintaining his speed carefully, hoping to reach his destination alive so he could give Dr. Marty Johnson, his friend from college, a piece of his mind.  He wanted to personally extend his gratitude to Marty for waking him before the birds opened their eyes with some melodramatic urgency that just couldn't be described over the phone.  Instead, Marty insisted that he come up to the hospital and physically see the patient in question right away.

 "Something is wrong Steve.  It needs to be addressed now.  It can't wait until tomorrow.  It may be too late," Marty told him, a noticeable tension streaming from his voice.

Although annoyed by the disruption in his normal late night routine, Steve decided to come see him. However, he certainly didn't enjoy being awakened and told he needed to come right away.  Nevertheless, it was his friend and Marty did sound like he needed Steve's help desperately, and so out he ventured into the pouring rain.

The inclement weather had only become more pronounced as Steve made his way further up to Moose Hill, now miles away from his cozy log cabin.  As he looked out his windshield, he noticed the approaching thunderclouds.  He knew a strong cold front from Canada was coming and beginning to mix in with the final late summers warm air mass that had been lingering like thick pea soup in the Adirondack area the last day or so.  Once these two air masses meet, he guessed, it would only get worse.  He knew it.  Felt it in his bones.  Change of seasons was already in a battle and it looked like the cold air was ready to settle in.  Trying to ignore Mother Natures growing fury, Steve started thinking real hard as to why Marty would insist that he come out tonight instead of making a late morning run.  It's just a few more hours to sunrise.  This problem of his couldn't wait.  He needs me to venture up here now.  Why?  Is it that serious?  His thoughts started to race around in his mind only causing him to become more anxious.

If I knew what this urgency was, perhaps I could have enjoyed this ride a little better.  But no, it's my entire fault, being so damn curious and all.   This better be good Marty, or I'm really going to let you have it with a big chunk of my pissed off mind.  His thoughts continued to wander as he began turning the dial on his radio, all the while hoping to get a station with an updated storm warning for the Adirondack region.  After a few turns of his fingers, he finally hit a frequency that wasn't playing upstate, hillbilly type country tunes.  The weatherman he found had just started his speech, informing all his listeners in the local area to watch out for heavy winds, torrential downpours, possible hail, and- prepare your Ark, gather two of every creature, for Gods' wrath is upon us once more - Steve mimicked rather quickly in his mind.  Just then, as his thoughts were starting to come together, forming a soft daydream consisting of how it would feel back under the soft flannel blankets at his home, Steve's cell phone began to chime one of his favorite tunes.  It was the original Spiderman theme, snapping him from his daydream and bringing him once again, back to reality.  He'd set the ringer to the 1969 classic Spiderman cartoon song, "Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a Spidey can, spins a web any size...

"Hello, Marty, it's hard to hear you, you're breaking up," Steve said, as he began fixing the little antenna on the end of his cell, all the while looking to the right at that 10 foot ditch which ironically seemed to be following him on most of this road trip.  He held the cell to his left ear, while keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, making sure that all four tires were hugging the tar.  The road up north had been constructed like the shape of a slithering snake, forcing Steve to turn the wheel left and then right, many times over.  He also noticed along the far right of his car, a rock filled ravine had caught some of the rain, sending it trickling down the mountain into a passing stream. Making sure his tire didn't get caught in that ravine; Steve continued to concentrate on his driving.   He knew if he ventured off the side and his tires slipped over that ravine, he'd be screaming Hail Mary, Full of Grace, all the way down the mountain.   He began visualizing himself screaming and pounding on the side door, as his car continued down some dark, black emptiness into its watery grave. This continued running through his mind, while still trying to hear for a voice over the crackling- this thing couldn't get a clear signal tonight if I were holding on to its signal tower at the highest point with one hand and waving the freaking cell phone in the other. 

Steve was becoming extremely high strung by now.  Again, his inner voices kept reminding him about the deadly crash he'd be subjected to if he didn't pay attention.  Maybe it's twenty feet or even thirty.  So he held steadfast in keeping his right eye as his lookout hoping to avoid getting his tire caught in that ravine and his left eye to watch the road ahead, carefully holding the cell with his shoulder, as he continued, although impatiently, trying to hear the voice on the other end.   Cell phones- he'd thought- never works when you want them to.  It's just unfu...-

"Steve it's me, Marty," a crackling voice, now becoming clearer, more pronounced.

"Can you hear me now Steve, Steve?"

"Yes, I hear you, finally," Steve yelled back.  "You were coming in all full of static. It's quite possible, Marty, that maybe one of the cell phone towers had just been struck by lightening in this crazy storm. You think?"  Steve said, just sarcastically enough that Marty had to know he was a wee bit agitated, just a little, to be called out this late at night in the worst of inclement weather no less.  And so what if he didn't, Steve thought- He just better have something real urgent ready to unveil when I meet up with him because this is just freaking preposterous!!!

"Yeah ok, sure.  Where are you Steve?  Are you close enough to the facility so I can run out and meet you by the gate to let you in?  I don't want to get soaked, you know?"  Marty spoke slowly so Steve could make out what he was saying without interpreting things wrong with the static in the background, but fading. Nevertheless, despite the static interruptions, Steve heard every word, loud and clear.

Yeah that's it.  I'm only a minute away.  Go on ahead and wait at the gate.  And, oh yeah, I hope you forgot your umbrella because you deserve a good soaking for making me venture out tonight.  Steve kept this funny notion in his mind and instead responded to Marty more civilized stating, "Yeah, give me another ten minutes.  I'm almost there, Marty."