Hot oil and boiling antifreeze

My feet dig in the mud and hot oil as boiling water and antifreeze pour out of the over-turned engine. An off-work but by pure chance trained former EMT runs around, yelling at the man working his way into the overturned semi. The driver lies unconcious on what was the passenger-side door, barely breathing. The wind blows hard as I grip onto the cold steel of the drivers-side door, trying to keep it open, give the man inside a chance to help as much as he can. In such a position I can see him clearly, lying down, frighteningly still. It is thirty miles from the nearest town, the ambulance won't be here for another twenty mintues at least.

The back engine of the semi kicks up, sending a billow of smoke around all of us. The EMT runs back, stopping short of kicking it to turn it off. I stare nervously at the hot oil pouring out of the motor.

The EMT grabs a crowbar and gently begins to work the large windowshield, forming tiny cracks around it. This then descends into a violent hacking as cracks grow like spiderwebs through the once-clear glass. The man inside, handing the wounded driver a breathing mask, begins to kick it from the inside. It shatters but stays in place. Usually most people never find this out, but the windowshield is glass with a tight layer of plastic on both the inside and outside, preventing the shattered bits of glass from spreading. The men have to peal it back like a large, stiff blanket. The driver begins to move around a little, it doesn't seem like he's bleeding anywhere, I'll never know if he suffered internal hemoraging from the accident.

I step out of the way, feeling useless. A woman walks by, mentions that she is a nurse. She quizes the EMT.

"Does he have any other health conditions?"
"Yes, he's diabetic and hyper-glycemic, not hypo. He's breathing really shallow, damnit! Those EMT's should be here!"
"Is he on any medication?"
"No, but he hasn't eaten in four days."
"How old is he?"
"70 years old..."

My mind races, what the hell is a 70 year old man driving a loaded semi on the interstate? Unfortunatly, it was answered yesterday as my mother and I walk out of a walmart staffed by what should be retirees.

"Their pensions were lost when the market fell..."

The ambulance arrives, I disapear from the picture. I can't afford many stops like this, I have to avoid Las Vegas durring rush hour and I still have hours and hundreds of miles of driving. I return to my beaten car, still recovering from it's own wreck. I turn and look back to the semi, laying on it's side, it's wheels hanging uselessly like the legs of a dead elephant. It seems more animal than machine, lying in such a helpless state.

I can't help but thinking that one day, when it comes, I'll be just as useless.