The roads were gradually returning to the
familiar again. It had been a long time since he had seen his
family. His
parents and younger sister were still where he had left them two years ago; out on the country
farm, milkings at six in the morning and again after supper.
School was right for him, lots of
good times,
ideas, and
late nights with friends talking life over coffee, but still, it was nice to be coming back to
the rustic familiarity of
home. He missed it, sometimes.
He turned the old Camry onto the first of a winding trail of gravel roads. His own private
way
home. The school bus had always had to detour north to pick up his younger neighbors: the loud ones on the
bus,
rubber boots and
red backpacks never ceasing to make a scene. He
grinned at the thought, remembering a little wistfully how different things had seemed back then. Now it was
their turn to be the ones beginning to shape their
future; to be coming up on
graduation, excited to
get out and see the
world--leave their slow little town behind.
The
gravel slid by, kicking up
dust; every so often a loose rock taking a noisy shot at his wheel-well.
Enjoying the moment, he leaned forward to turn off the local alternative
rock station. The brown station wagon
struck just in front of his rear right wheel like an
impact hammer. Time kicked in and things flew into
motion so fast they hardly registered, but that first gut reaction was
frozen in a tableau of fear
and realization. One moment driving, the next moment a sickening lurch ripping
control into screeching noise. His hands wrenched the wheel, but the car's left back tire caught the loose shoulder and the world spun.
The car flipped once and slammed into the far side of the ditch. His body tore against the seatbelt as the
window
exploded and the windshield
starred, burying itself in the dirt. Then
silence, except for the still-spinning wheels and his spastic breathing.
Mind dull with shock, he pried himself out from under the steering wheel. Gingerly, he extracted himself from
the crushed wreck, pausing only to grab his cell phone from the still functioning
glove box.
Then scrapes and bruises were forgotten as he spied the other car. It looked broken,
meek, like it had
crawled across the intersection only to have its front-end kicked by a giant foot. He tried to dial
911 with shaking fingers
as he ran around the compacted car to the driver's side. Fighting the door open he saw the woman driver groping
for her seatbelt, horrified eyes fixed on the girl in the front seat. He told her, "
quick, I have to get you
out of here", as he undid her seatbelt and pulled her out of the car. "my
girl, my
baby" she said as he once again entered the car. The girl in the front seat was maybe nine. Her forehead had struck the crumpled
frame of the door. She was
dead.
After a long moment, he turned slowly and
emerged back into the world. The driver was sobbing
hysterically, crying "do something, do something", but he walked by her into the grass beside the road. His
legs lurched and he collapsed onto hands and knees. The
cell phone was saying something to him, and the
wind touched his hair, but he did not answer.
He only knelt, saying nothing, as
death passed him by.