THE CRHISTMAS KISS

As I drove past the cemetery entrance again, I realized I was hopelessly lost. I had been wandering these same country roads for over an hour and still couldn't find the outer road that led to the interstate highway. The night had been a disaster already. It had rained buckets all day, closing some roads and causing me to be late for my date to the Christmas Eve Dance. Then, as it turned out my blind date had made me wish I was blind. Also, she had all the personality of a 20-year old corpse. And, now, I seemed doomed to be lost forever in this rural Twilight Zone.

As I rounded a long curve, my headlights illuminated a lone girl standing on the side of the road and frantically waving her arms. My first impulse was to gun the accelerator and hurry past her -- not to get involved -- not get the car's upholstery sopping wet. For some inexplicable reason, though, I pulled over and opened the passenger door for her.

The girl quickly slid into the car and shut the door. I stared at her open-mouthed. She was gorgeous despite her rain-soaked appearance. Her complexion resembled alabaster marble. Her eyes were large and hauntingly beautiful. Her hair glistened like a halo, and her white dress clung to her body accentuating her shapely and supple figure.

"You ... you must be drowned," I stammered. She smiled at me but made no response. "What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere on a night like tonight?"

The girl continued to smile at me but said nothing, although she shivered slightly. I took off my varsity letterman's jacket and placed it around her shoulders. "Well, I'll take you home if you'll direct me," I said as I eased my foot off the brake and idled slowly down the road.

Panic flashed into the girl's eyes. I stopped the car. "What's wrong?" I hurriedly asked. The girl pointed ahead. I could perceive little through the slashing rain drumming the windshield. I flipped on my high-beams, but their groping fingertips couldn't penetrate the wall of blackness. I shifted the car into PARK. "What's wrong?" I asked again. The girl only pointed ahead of us -- alarm still in her eyes.

"To tell you the truth," I confessed, "I'm kinda lost and don't really know much about these roads. Is there something wrong with this road?"

With the panic never leaving her eyes, the girl nodded. I leaned in front of her, popped open the glove compartment, and grabbed a flashlight. I turned, and we peered into each other's eyes for-an eternity. Then, we lightly kissed. Her lips were cold, but soft and sweet.

I opened my car door and stepped out into a moaning wind and knifing rainfall. I could hear a continuous crashing sound before me. I trudged ahead in the dark for about 25 feet when I finally saw it. The bridge spanning a flooded creek had crumbled and caved like an old grave. I shuddered in exhausted relief before jogging splashingly back to the car.

The girl was gone. I touched the upholstery where she'd been sitting It was bone dry. Lightning flashed, I saw nothing in the vicinity of the car except the cemetery's cold tombstones. I decided to spend the night in the car and find my way home tomorrow.

The next morning, I awoke to a sparkling sunrise and emerged from the car, stretching luxuriously. I began strolling through the cemetery to overcome my stiffness. The air smelled fresh and fertile. "It sure feels good to be alive," I said aloud. Suddenly, I spotted my letterman's jacket draped over a nearby tombstone. I walked over to the grave marker where I read:

ANGELA KNOWLAN

BORN 1956

DROWNED CHRISTMAS EVE 1974