Sunday Drive

based on true events

Sunday Drive

 

“what do you want to do today?”

“Huh? What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday Funday! Lets go on an adventure. Its so nice out. Get up!”

“okay Devil Woman. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Hurry up!”

“why don’t you join me instead?”

     I thought it was a fair enough question, but she just rolled her eyes and walked out of the bedroom.

Beneath the showerhead my thoughts wandered from where I could take her given my options, to how ‘Sunday funday’ began in the first place, and then back again. In the distance 1 thought I could hear Tessa singing along to cmt. Figuring that would keep her busy a while, I left the shower running while I cracked a window and lit a Joint. It wasn’t long before I was pondering the greater psychology behind the Sunday drive, both metaphorical and not, and how it had a firm grasp upon seemingly all of mankind.

“smoking without me a*****e?”

     I was caught. She sat on the Counter beside the shower and took the Some what misted joint out of my mouth. I pretended to be annoyed, but she knew better.

“what are you thinking about?”

“… Sundays”

“we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to babe.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“oh, this Sounds deep.”

     Yeah, she knew me.

“I was just wondering what it was about Sundays that the world goes nuts for. You would think it would be the most depressing day of the week for most… you know?”

“oh, whatever“ she said, rolling her eyes and reaching for the Cold water knob. She laughed and ran out the door with the joint as 1 screamed and lept from the shower cussing. Naked and wet, I chased her to the living room and tackled her onto the Couch. 

“I wasn’t being a downer, I was just wondering what drives the Sunday drive, that’s all.”

     She put the joint in my mouth and tried to push me off of her. I rubbed my wet hair across her white shirt.

“well if you don’t get off me and get dressed there wont be a drive. Go, AJ!”

     A short time later we were on the highway. We had decided to take the scenic route around the lake and stop at a favorite sandwich shop of ours on the other side. It wasn’t anything to high brow, especially for a resort restaurant, but the place had a special feel for us.

     It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we stopped at a few favorite spots to watch all the boats sail the beautiful, unbelievably blue waters and take pictures. Usually we would have been out on the water, but I still needed to replace the old motor on my pontoon with the new one. It was a job that required more than just me, so my hands were tied.

 

“Do you think its some sort of ‘one last hoorah’? People giving their last day of freedom hell?”

“Geez, you’re STILL thinking about this” she asked, laughing and rolling her eyes again.

“…Or is it denial? Both? Neither? What do you think?”

“Babe, slow down” she said, pointing ahead. “I think something’s happened up there.”

     Traffic was backed up from the top of the hill, and I couldn’t see past them to whatever the holdup was. A biker came by and said that there had just been a bad wreck.

“oh no! do you think you should go up there?”

“I don’t hear any sirens, maybe I better” I said, and maneuvered the truck over to the grass and parking, took off sprinting towards the wreck. Another man soon matched my pace.

“I saw the sticker on your truck, you’re a Corpsman?”

“I was; FMF.”

“So was I.” he told me what ship he had been on, but I have since forgotten the name, though it’s a familiar name to Navy folk.

Without losing a step, we looked each other in the eye and shook hands before picking up the pace towards what we could now see was a severely mangled grand am. There was one man already there, hanging through the sunroof, now doubt tending someone in the car. We identified ourselves as we got to the driver door to find an elderly man in terrible shape. The other guy, holding the victims head up, identified himself as an off duty emt and we immediately began doing whatever we could with barely another word between us.  

At first the man was conscious but slowly his breathing began to fail and we soon had to apply a bag over his mouth to help him breath. I could see, as could everyone else, that his stomach was swelling full of blood and we knew he has in pretty bad shape. He flatlined three times, but each time we got him revived.

It took around fifteen minutes or so for EMS and the fire department to arrive, and he had to be cut out of the car. By the time a couple firefighters and I pulled him out onto a stretcher, we knew he was gone. There was nothing left in his eyes but the glaze of death, and he was as pale as snow. Someone said they got a vital reading from him and they whisked him to the ambulance, but that proved to be false.

The three of us that had been there looked at each other in silent understanding, pain, and disappointment. Despite our best efforts, we had failed the elderly man. We tried to keep our composure as we had a cigarette after they loaded him up and closed the doors, and asked each other what else we could have done. There was nothing we could think of, but each of us still felt a tinge of guilt, and failure.

Before long I was standing alone in the chaos, and I looked down at my arms, which were covered in the dead mans’ blood, in a trance for what must have been a few minutes before an EMT in uniform came over with some wipes. It took nearly the whole box to get the blood off.

 

.  “What happened” Tessa asked when I got back to the truck and started driving off.

“An older man wrecked his grand am.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “We’ll find out soon enough I guess.”

     She didn’t press me much further about it as we continued on our way. As I drove down the highway I noticed the blood beneath my finger tips and did my best to hide them from her.

     As we ate I kept replaying the moment we finally pulled him out with his dead mans eyes in my head. Somehow I was able to eat and not let much on in front of Tessa. She was having a good time, and that was a comfort for me. For a time the ride home was relatively silent until she grabbed my hand from my lap.

“I think Sundays are so… special and pure in a way because its almost the only day nothing is expected of you, and you can spend the whole day with those you love enjoying the small things. A Sunday drive is a trip into a new horizon, every time. A fresh start, No matter where you’re going. As long as you’re with the ones who count. "

     I’m still not sure if she saw me tear up when she said that, but later that night I held her as close as I could and told her what had happened, and how she had kept me calm and at peace without the slightest effort. I told her that next Sunday, we’d just go fishing by the house and take lunch with us.