The First Time That I Met An Angel (that I know of)

I always think of it at this time of year because this is the time of year when it happened. I like to tell my cabin at Mt. Lassen on the next-to last night. Some are gone by the next afternoon, and I always want them to hear it. It's very hard story to tell, things could have turned out so differently.
I'm guessing it was before 1980. Maybe around 1978. I still had my yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and we hadn't moved South yet. I was a day late for camp. I was driving alone to Lassen and I thought I knew the way. I took a wrong turn and I got myself good and lost. It appears on the map that many roads bleed off of Highway 5 in the direction of the park, and they do. Many of them interconnect, too. This one was unfamiliar, but I thought it would straighten itself out eventually.
The sun was going down, but it was August and the days were still long. Wouldn't you know it, I got a flat tire. There I was, dressed for meeting and not a clue how, or the muscle, to change it. I opened the boot and gazed down at my spare. Might as well try. Nobody is here to see you cry.
Coming from the direction I was going came a car. Just a normal car, driven by an average man. The car was a family car, a tan sedan. The man looked to be around 30, and when he stopped, I saw he had a briefcase and a mess of papers on the seat beside him. Safe enough.
"Do you need some help?" he asked.
"I can't change the tire. Could you help me?"
"I sure can. Where's the jack?"
He hoisted the spare out of the trunk. Pulled my flat tire free and positioned the jack so he could lift the car. As he was adjusting the jack, another vehicle arrived behind me. A big, dirty, noisy van. This driver was hairy. He was big and he was scary. I remember a confederate flag across the back window. Really late in the day for hippies, don't you know.
"Can I help?"
"Nope, I think we can handle it. He's almost done anyway."
"I guess I could help re-pack your stuff, then."
I really wanted him to leave. He was creepy. And loud. And pushy.
"I guess I don't need you to, thanks anyway."
As I was finishing this sentence, I heard a car door slam. When I turned around, I saw the other man starting to drive away. I ran up to him and pleaded with him not to leave me. The tire was still not on, the flat was on the ground and he was leaving!
"I've got things to do. I've got papers to deliver. You'll be fine."
"Please don't leave me here. With him."
"I've got to go, sorry."
He drove away, assuring me and patting his briefcase. I was quiet while the second man finished the job. He did his best to get me to talk. He asked where I was going, where I was from. What I was doing out here. When he asked me if I knew anybody in the area, I started to get frightened. I thought of everyone I knew from Red Bluff, and listed them all.
"I'm late and people are expecting me. I appreciate what you've done. I'd better go."
"I could tell as I drove up that you weren't from around here. I could tell you were in trouble."
"I was fine. Good bye." Really, really scared now.
"You see, a few weeks ago the police put out a bulletin warning people in the area of a dangerous man. They don't know what he looks like, but there have been quite a few recently missing young women. The ones they do find have been strangled, violated, and murdered. The only thing they know is that he is a middle aged, average looking man. And drives a tan sedan, has a briefcase on his seat, and stops to offer help. Let me follow you to Lassen now. I'll make sure you get there safely"

He kept with me all the way and as he drove on up the road, and while he beeped his horn, I looked for wings.