“Steering column’s pinching my nuts,” he said. Railer wiped his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his grin. I looked at the ground, checking for gasoline. Radiator fluid gleamed on the road, and I smelled the dense sweet scent of it, felt the throb of my head. I’d come to hate that smell.

“Get me out of here,” the man yelled. “Get me out of this frigging car now.”

“We got an Indian brave to help us now,” Railer told the man, always the funny guy. “We’ll have you out in no time.” I was too tired to feel even a small well of anger.

The man shot me a look. “I don’t care if you got the whole damn tribe or the US Cavalry,” he said, “just get me the hell out of here.”

“Not to worry,” Railer said. “We’ll have you out in a jiff.” Railer stood up and tipped his head for me to follow him. I ignored him. I could see the door was stuck tight, buckled to a weld. I reached to pry the door with my fingers but Railer grabbed my shoulder. “Kicking Woman,” he said and motioned again for me to follow him. “We got some equipment in the car, big fella,” he said. The man arched his neck to see me, his eyes mournful and bulging.

“Sir,” I said, “just relax.”

Railer stood by the side of his car. “I called for the fire truck,” he said, “but they’re out on a call. It’s just you and me, friend.”

I glanced back at the car. I could hear the man wheezing. I was thinking he’d give himself a stroke.

“Got any ideas?” Railer said. He had pulled a toothpick from his jacket pocket and he was teetering it between tight teeth.

“We could get a crowbar,” I said.

“I thought of that,” Railer said. “It isn’t going to work. You got a winch on that heap?” he said.

I was getting nervous. I didn’t want to kill a man who stood every chance of living except for a stupid call on our part. I shook my head no.

“Look,” Railer said. “I got a chain in the car. We can leverage it on a guardrail post and use your car to right the vehicle.”

I knew Railer was suggesting we use my car for fear of damaging his own, but it was pointless to fight him. A man was hanging upside down in a car. “OK,” I said unwillingly. The early afternoon had turned into a long stretch of day and we were in the middle of it. I held my stomach and turned back to my car.

“What’s going on?” the man asked. I could detect fear in his voice. His anger had gone. I saw the sheen of slobber on his cheeks. He was close to shitting himself.