"My car won't start.  Can you come pick me up?"

"Of course I will pick you up," I think as I walk down the south hill for BYU.  "You are my Fiancé."  My car waits, now the only means of transport for a school teacher and a BYU student.  When I arrive at the scene there is a fellow teacher helping Brooke trouble shoot the engine.  We decide that the problem must be the battery.  A quick battery test validates our fears. 

"A trickle charge should do it," claims the mechanic.  "As long as the battery is still good."  It isn't.

I hook up a new battery gleaming with black promise.  I tell Brooke to turn the key.

Nothing.

She tries again.  Again, nothing.

Did I hook it up wrong?  Is there another problem?  I don't know.  I call my dad and he agrees to come out.  After he arrives I can tell he is getting frustrated with the situation.  I had hooked everything up right and nothing else seemed to be amiss.

"Let's tow it to a mechanic," suggests dad.  "I've got some climbing rope we can use."

As I stepped into the car being towed, I felt time slip away.  I was in Wyoming again and was helping my dad tow a truck, a tractor, a war member's car.  I had to focus on keeping the line taunt with out causing the truck to break unnecessarily. Time found me contemplating nothing important and everything at the same time.  Finally, the transcendental moment passed and I found myself discussing my fiance's car with the mechanic.