Junior One Listening Exercise

1 Officer Jonda's pulse quickened. Road conditions were dangerous on that cold, dark wintery night. The fierce storm made it hard to see, but she could tell the car ahead of her was in trouble. It was swaying. It was not swaying violently, and was still barely within the lane, but on the winding road in the fierce November rain, it was enough. Jonda had a sixth sense for accidents and lived in terror of them ever since that awful night so many years ago. She still couldn't abolish the terribleimage of that teenager screaming for help, her help. Help that she had been unable to give as she was driven back by the intense heat of the car fire.

2 Her subsequent report on the incident had dutifully noted the facts, as she had been trained to write them, facts that did not include screams or pain. It was strange to talk about them one way: a string of facts for a police report; and to think about them in another: burning metal and deep tire tracks on the slippery concrete, bits of safety glass likeprimitive crystals reflecting in pools of blood. These were memories Jonda could never really turn off. Sheleaned on her training for support, and these days she never ignored any signs of the next accident. She made a gesture to turn on the patrol car's flashing lights, but her partner, David, beat her to it; he too had sensed the danger. "Let's pull that car over before someone gets hurt," he said.

3 The big car slowed, but not enough to stop at the warning sign as the driverslammed on the brakes. The car slipped off the road into the Dalton River.

4 Jonda quickly brought the police car to a halt and got out. Yelling at David to call for backup help, she slipped down the side of the road to the water's edge.

5 The rain had swelled the river into a ragingmonster. It roared well over its banks, rushing swiftly with tree limbscaught in the raging current. And halfsubmerged in the currentwas the car. As big as it was, the force of the water had heaved it against a tree, the passenger seat submerged, water rushing over the windshield. "DearLord!" Jonda prayed. "Never again!" This is too much, too familiar, Jonda thought.

6 The driver would not have had time to make it out, Jonda knew. Her flashlight beam barely cut through the heavy rain, but she could still see the trapped driver screaming and banging the window. And the car was filling up with water.

7 "David, I need the window hammer!" Jonda called over her radio and rushed toward the car. By the time she was at the driver door, the water was rushing up to her waist, and unbelievably cold, like her legs had been encased in ice. If she didn't work quickly, she could lose the feeling in her lower body and collapse.

8 Through the window, Jonda saw the woman with water up to her chest. A work badge pinned to her chest identified her as Sandy. And she was old, 65 or 70. She would not last long in the icy water. Her eyes, betraying her intense fear, were locked on Jonda's. "Save me," she screamed.

9 David caught up with Jonda and passed her the window hammer. "Ma'am," she yelled through the window, "I need you to turn away from the glass! I'm going to break through!" The woman turned her head, and Jonda struck. The glass, thick as the old car was big, barelycracked. And with a heavy heart Jonda felt the car heave. The current was loosening it from the tree.

10 Jonda struck again with all her might and this time, mercifully, the window broke into little pieces. Water rushed in and the car heaved again, soon to be carried downstream.

11 The woman tried to speak through her shivering lips. "Tell my grandchildren I love them," she moaned.

12 Jonda leaned in and wrapped her arms around the woman. "We're not going to lose you, Sandy! Put your arms around my neck and hold on! David, grab my waist and pull!"

13 With all her strength in the icy water, Jonda grabbed the slender woman out of her seat and through the broken window, David pulling at her waist. The car heaved one last time, and just as the woman cleared it, it was swallowed by the water.

14 The woman was crying in Jonda's arms. "It's all right, ma'am," Jonda said, tears streaking down her cheeks, unable to let go of the woman. "We didn't lose you! We didn't lose you!" she cried. Stiff and sore, Sandy cried, "Thank you!"

15 Since the accident, the two women have become close friends. "She's a fantastic woman," Sandy says. "She just refused to let me die. I'm forever grateful to her." But Jonda feels she has much to be grateful for too, because finally, she is healed and free of the acute nightmares of her past.