Maggy's Race

Maggy was doing 120 kilometers-per-hour on a straight stretch of highway 20 on her way to Quebec City from Montreal. She noticed the Mustang pull up beside her. The Mustang
slowed down and the driver glanced over at Maggy. She was sure it was an invitation to race.
She snickered at the driver of the Mustang and accelerated her father’s convertible BMW.

“Maggy”, said her boyfriend, “don’t do this again. The last time you pulled this stunt was two weekends ago on our way to Toronto and you nearly got us both killed.

“But I won, didn’t I babe. Didn’t that guy finally back off?” She replied.

"Maggy, if you don’t slow down, it’s finished between us, understand? I’m only 27 and I want to live.”

“This will only take a few minutes, babe. As soon as this jerk realizes who he’s dealing with, he’ll back off, too.” Replied Maggy.

“And he’s dealing with a nut, Maggy. Please, slow down.”

Her long, blond hair blowing in the wind, Maggy accelerated – 130, 140, 150 kilometers-per-hour. The driver next to Maggy kept up. This isn’t going to be so simple, she thought.

The stretch of highway 20 between Montreal and Quebec City is mostly straight. The sharp curves come far and wide. So both cars barreled down, east bound for Quebec City.

“That SOB won’t beat me. I’ll show him,” said Maggy, gritting her teeth.

“Maggy, please. Why do you get this way behind the wheel of a car? You have an engineering degree, for crying out loud. You’re smart, beautiful, and I love you. And I want us to have a future. Some day you’re going to get us both killed. "Please, Maggy, slow down.”

Maggy was closing in on a slow moving car in front of her. By now she was traveling at 180 kilometer-per-hour. She was slightly behind her challenger. She started to pass an elderly couple in front of her. As she started to pass, Maggy realized that she was in a tight curve. She started to skid. She tried to control the BMW but was skidding toward the car in the right lane. She came within a few inches of tapping the slow moving car. Maggy straightened the BMW and floored the gas pedal.

I hope they don’t get hurt, thought the elderly gentleman in the slow moving car. His wife knew what he was thinking and nodded. “I hope they slow down,” she said.

Both Maggy and the Mustang were driving in excess of 180 kilometers-per-hour and each driver was determined to make the other abandon the race. Around Drummondville, traffic picked up, but neither driver slowed down. It was like driving through an obstacle course. This race wasn’t about to end.

“Maggy,” shouted her boyfriend. “For heaven’s sake, slow down.”

Maggy would have non of his comments. She was in a trance and was determined to win this race even though it was going to be more difficult than she thought.

“Maggy, what you’re doing is unsafe. Stop this car at once. I’m getting off. You’re crazy.”

Maggy smiled and kept the gas pedal to the floor. The slight mishap at the last curve was nothing to worry about. Was it, thought Maggy?

The other car was pulling away and Maggy had the gas pedal to the floor. Maggy knew the guy had a faster car but she figured that if she kept the pressure he would lose his nerve and eventually back off.

“Maggy, please. Maggy slow down,” begged her boyfriend. But to no avail. Maggy was determined to catch up with this guy at all costs.

She’s such a wonderful woman when she’s not behind the wheel of this damn car, thought her boyfriend. She’s always laughing and I know she loves me. I can remember the time I broke my leg playing hockey in that garage league. She took such good care of me. She can be so warm. I know she’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. But this damn car, it makes her crazy.

As Maggy approached the next curve, it started to drizzle slightly, making the road greasy. She had caught up with the corvette and now found herself in another tight left-hand curve. As she closed in on the Corvette, she felt her back wheels slide outward. She jerked the steering wheel sharply to her right. But she overcompensated and the car’s inertia was too much even for the well-built BMW. She felt the car’s left side lift from under her. Suddenly, she was overturning on the grassy shoulder of the highway.

The car tumbled uncontrollably several times. Maggy braced herself. Oh god, what have I done. God help me. She heard metal crunch all around her. Her head was spinning. She didn’t know which way was up or down. She screamed, as did her boyfriend.

The car finally came to rest upside down against a light fence used to prevent animals of the forest from wondering onto the highway. Both Maggy and her boyfriend were pinned unconscious in the smoldering car. Maggy’s seat belt had kept her in her seat but the steering wheel had broken and a chunk had entered her chest. Her head was split open and blood covered her face. Fifteen minutes later the old couple drove up to the accident.
“Oh my lord,” said the elderly lady. “Stop the car, we have to help these poor people. Dial 911 on your cell. Hurry.”

Fifteen minutes later the fire department and ambulance from Drummondville showed up. The fire fighters worked frantically to free Maggy and her boyfriend. They used electric jaws to cut through the wreckage. The paramedics had to wait for the fire fighters to clear a space. They were finally able to tend to both Maggy and her boyfriend through an opening in the side of the BMW create by the firefighters. After stabilizing Maggy and placing her on the stretcher, one of the paramedics called out, “Let’s get her to Saint-Joseph’s Hospital in Trois-Rivieres. It’s the closest hospital that has an emergency department capable of handling this woman’s serious injuries.”

“Yea, let’s go, we’re loosing her,” said his partner.

The paramedics worked frantically on Maggy to stabilize her as the ambulance sped east toward the hospital. The other ambulance at the scene radioed the driver to inform them that the boyfriend had died.

After what seemed like hours, the ambulance pulled up to the hospital emergency ramp where a team of medical personnel was waiting. It didn’t take them long to assess Maggy’s injuries. She was sent to the emergency operating room where she underwent hours of surgery to stop internal bleeding, and remove the piece of steering wheel in her chest.

Finally, the doctor responsible for treating Maggy removed his surgical mask and said to his operating team, “Tell me folks, why is it that young women are just as anxious as young men to kill themselves on our highways? In any event, please call her next of kin. I believe this young woman’s race is over."