An Encounter

“And who is my neighbor?”—Luke 10:29

Whisking along the island’s unimproved roads.
hazards are unmarked; potholes, vehicles stop,
then straddle the middle, while fisher folk sell fresh
catch on the edges. No rules for the road.

In the dark, the young couple venture out
on the unlit roads from their palatial rental, now
hurrying back to waiting children, when the tire
smacks the curb. All its air, out in a rush.

With no one for hire in sight, the tourist peels off
his jacket, hoping for a jack and spare
in the Land Cruiser. It’s a puzzlement. No internet
to assist. A local man rounds the corner, pulls up to help.
This kind man knows the secret
combo that drops the spare to the ground.

Sitting astride the tire, he asks if the tourist could
hold his baby boy. The child nuzzles against the fine linen
jacket as he points at the full moon and stars,
from unfamiliar arms.

Elation with the replacement tire in hand very brief
as the friendly helper bends to loosen lug nuts.
A collection of sand and salt serves as glue, refusing
to budge, no matter the strength of a shove or tug.

Both men take turns at serious, stronger tire kicking,
defiant and stubborn about not wanting defeat. As an ultimate
last word the local man gives a final kick. The tire rolls
off, wobbles and lays submissive.