The other day I killed a possum.
It was on one of those backwoods roads where asphalt is an optional
extra and streetlights are rarer than unicorns. I was zipping along, on my way
to a birthday party, taking directions from my GPS like an automaton, when the
damn thing ran into the road from a clutch of trees, right into the space my
passenger side tire was about to occupy.
Crunch.
What the
Hell? It was not a busy night. I was the only car on the road. Why did the damn
thing have to pick that exact moment to charge across the street? Did the sight
of my headlights suddenly remind it that it had urgent business on the other
side? Was it done on a dare- maybe peer pressured into the run by some older
possums? Was it just not paying attention? Was it suicidal? Was it blind?
In my rearview mirror I saw its
corpse slumped by the side of the road, missing a head. My stomach sank. I felt
I had committed some great sin against … God? Heyzeus? Mother Nature? All of it
together, smothered in Catholic guilt.
Living in the South, I’ve seen more
than my share of roadkill. Dogs, cats, deer, and plenty of possums splattered
all over the place. But this is the first time that I caused any. I had
violated the 6th commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” It’s pretty
simply and there is no addendum excluding mistakenly squashed possums.
For some reason the casualty rate
seems higher on Southern roads than Northern Highways. It might be because of
the winters, either animals spend more time curled up somewhere or their
corpses are pleasantly hidden from view in a snowbank. And on the matter of
deer carcasses, I’ve often wondered if they had been hit by a passing motorist,
or if the bodies had fallen out of the back of some careless hunter’s pickup. 
Had I really committed a sin? I didn’t
do it on purpose. Legally speaking the slob behind the wheel bears
responsibility for the collision. Even if the pedestrian was blind, stinking
drunk, and suicidal, the impetus was on me to make restitution, to do penance,
to pay the piper. Despite me following every precaution, I was responsible for the
smeared corpse on the highway. What happened to the no-fault accident? What
happened to personal responsibility? What happened to an act of God?
Well screw that! I am declaring an
emancipation for all of us. You are forgiven for past roadkill. You are pre-emptively
exonerated for all highway carnage that flings itself upon you. From now on
when some pigeon or squirrel or possum throws itself under your wheels, we are
not to blame! We must never feel guilty for it any more. I absolve you, I
forgive myself, and I damn them. It’s about time these stinking beasts learn to
look both ways before crossing the fucking street!
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