Trying to hold the truck straight while the rear wheels began to slide, Jake felt nervous perspiration break out on his forehead. He had only had this vehicle for two months. The search to find something in respectable condition with rear wheel drive had been challenging. Most of the ones he found were old and exhausted, their bodies rusting, dented and fading. This truck, his baby, had been a jewel of a find.
Winter in the northern Midwest was fickle. The storm had been on the radar for a couple of days. He had thought it might fizzle out before it reached Milwaukee. It was a common occurrence. The weather man screams for everyone to hunker down, then the snow turns from feet to inches and everyone is laughing except the school kids. This one was real though.
A glossy BMW with deeply tinted windows skidded through the intersection directly ahead. Jake downshifted to second gear, the elderly, automatic whining its disagreement. Duly noted, he thought but stuck with his decision. The truck slowed dramatically, its new tires digging for purchase in the six inches of chewed up slush that was quickly freezing into suspension jerking ruts. The BMW caught itself and clawed its way forward. He wanted to watch it go, study the way the driver handled it but, his own driving took most of his attention. He wished strongly the weatherman had been less correct.