The Crash

a new story I tried...

When we met for the first time, he was in the hospital room next to mine.  I had just gotten out of a coma, and the doctors had left me alone after their questioning. 

                "Welcome," he said.

                "Where?" I asked.

                "The Land of Disinfection," he joked.

                I laughed at that; it sounded like a very funny place to be. 

                "Why are you here?  It seems like you're so cheery."

                "They know me well, here," he said quietly. 

                He didn't continue, and my door opened a few moments later.  Someone came in with balloons and a few cards.  I didn't recognize them.  They said they were my best friend, from first grade�"didn't I remember?  I didn't.  Her name was Ray, like Ray Charles, she said.  I still didn't remember.

                I could see she was fighting tears.

                "You can cry, it's okay…" I said.  "Come sit."

                She set down the good wishes and sat in the chair next to my bed.  I looked at her with a smile, and said,

                "You're a nice person."

                Her face twisted, and she started to really cry.

                "You…you don't remember?"

                My smile fell.  I didn't want her to cry.  Evidently I had forgotten a thing or two; that would prove to be interesting.  I wasn't too ready to face that, though, so I said something different.

                "Please don't cry.  I really do think you're nice.  Besides, you're keeping me company."

                She wiped her eyes and tried to smile.

                "I can't believe how…." she started to say.

                I tilted my head a little, not really understanding.  She shook her head and got up.  After squeezing my hand, she left.  I think she said she had to go somewhere for something.  I hoped she would come back soon.       

 

~

 

                No one wanted to tell me what had happened.  At first I was okay with it, but then it started to bother me.  Everyone kept looking at me like I was a poor, poor girl.  Obviously, there was something I didn't know.  Did I have some rare disease?  Had I hurt someone badly?  I couldn't get anything out of anyone though, so after a while I decided to let it rest.

                "Hi, Wall," I called out.

                That's what I called him.  We talked when it was dark at night, and the nurses didn't come around so often. 

                "Hey Puddle."

                I giggled.  It made my stomach and ribs hurt, but it felt good in a way.  The nurse would be upset, because she had just changed my bandages.  Laughing made red stuff come out. 

                He called me puddle because all the doctors say my brain is mushy.  I wouldn't know, but it still made me smile.

                "Do people visit you?"

                "Not really."

                "Why not?"

                "They think I look funny."

                "That's nonsense!  I don't think you do."

                "You've never seen me."

                "What does that have to do with anything?"  I asked.  "Can't people just see?"

                He laughed to himself, and I smiled.  I liked it when he laughed.  I thought Wall was wise.  He seemed to know a lot about this place.  It was a hospital, of course.  There were doctors and nurses and all, and they gave you medicine when things hurt too bad. 

                "Puddle, what are the colors?"

                I thought for a moment.  Colors.  He was quizzing me, because he said there were things I needed to remember.  Or learn again.  Something like that.

                "Red."

                "What else?"

                I didn't like learning the colors.  They were too hard. 

                "Can we do something else?"

                "Sure.  Wat are the seasons?"

                "Sunny, snowy, and rainy.  Right?"

                "Sort of."

                He didn't correct me.  That was strange.

                "You sound tired, Wall."

                He was quiet for a long time.  It was oaky, because sometimes we didn't respond right away.  We talked slowly so we could think about things.  I liked thinking. 

                "Winter, summer….. The leafy one… And the rainy one."

                "Good job," he said.

                "I like to think about winter.  The word sounds like a baby-song."

                "You mean a lullaby?"

                "Is that what it is?"

                "Yes."

                "Well…yes, it sounds like a lullala… Well, you know what I mean."  I paused for a moment.  "Do you know any of those?"

                "Any what?"

                "Baby-songs."

                "Just one."

                He started to say the words to it, but he said them very softly.  He sounded sad, and I felt funny inside.  I felt sad and peaceful at the same time.  I wanted to tell him things would get better, and I wanted to cry for him.  I still didn't know why he was here.

 

~

 

                Ray came today.  She doesn't cry so much when she seems me now.  I think she's trying to be brave.  Sometimes she comes in when I'm talking to wall, and she smiles at me.  She said she was happy I made a friend, and I think she was saying the truth.

                "Do you talk to the nurses?" she asked.

                I shook my head.  She started to say something, but I don't think I really heard.  I had been thinking about something else for the last days.  I didn't really remember time, because everything seemed to stay the same.  There were the loud times and the quiet times, and that was it. 

                "Do I have people?" I asked.

                "What do you mean, Will?"

                I know my name is Willow, and that people call me Will.  Will and Ray, all the way.  That's what everyone said about us, but I forget why.

                "People... " I said again.

                I started to get frustrated because I couldn't find the word.  There was a word for these people.  There only two, and they loved you and all.  I didn't know how to explain that to her though. 

                "You have people, because you always say you have to go and you don't want them to wait.  What about me?  Do I have people?"

                "You mean…parents?"

                I shrugged, but I could tell she knew what I was talking about it.  It was in her eyes, her scared eyes.  I didn't want her to be scared; it made me sad.  She had to leave then, because her talker buzzed.  I hoped she would come back soon. 

                I waited to the night, after the nurses had checked on me, and then I tried to get out of bed.  I couldn't though; too many things were attached to me.  It made me afraid. 

                "Wall?"

                He didn't answer.  Sometimes it was because he was really tired, and other times it was because he had to have tests.  We all had tests here, but no one ever tells us if we did good or bad. 

                "Wall?" 

                My voice sounded scared.

                "Hi Puddle."

                I was relieved to hear his voice.

                "Do you have people?  Ray calls them parents.  Do you have them?"

                "Yes," he said. 

                "Do I?"

                "You do, because it's the only way you could have been born.  I don't know more than that, though," he said after a very long time.

                I stayed quiet then.  I had a lot to think about.

 

~

 

                A man dressed in all black visited me today.  I felt like he was strange, because he was pleasant and understanding. 

                "Hi Will," he said with a smile.

                "Hello," I said brightly. 

                I liked it when people talked to me.  Well, I liked visitors.  I didn't know what to say to the nurses, because they seemed so sorrowful.  I didn't want to hurt them or anything.

                "You look a lot healthier."

                "I do?"

                He nodded, and leaned forward.  He was sitting in the chair Ray always sat in.  I tilted my head sideways and smiled at him.  He gave a half smile back, but he had sad eyes.  It was like he felt two things at once, and it intrigued me.

                "Will, I've got to tell you some news," he said softly.

                He had a gentle voice, like a river.  I like listening to it. 

                "You've had a rough time, this past month."

                "I have?"

                "Yes…  Do you remember what has happened?"

                "I thought something had.  No one tells me, but everyone looks at me as if they're really sad about me.  Did I do something bad?"

                He squeezed my hand and said,

                "No, not at all."

                "Can you tell me?" I said after a very long time. 

                I was sure he would know what I was talking about.  I felt like I did, but I wasn't sure I could put it into words.  Some things were still hard for me. 

                "You were in an accident," he started.  "Your parents started fighting.  The car got smashed when it veered off the cliff.  You were the only one that survived, dear."

                I was quiet for a long time.  I didn't really understand, but I felt like somewhere deep inside that had actually happened.  It seemed like the harder I tried to remember, the more I couldn't bring it to mind.  I looked up at the ceiling, thinking and thinking.  Then I looked at the man dressed in black and said,

                "Did they love me?"

                "They adored you," he said quietly.  "You were their precious little girl."

                I thought some more.  This man dressed in all black seemed so nice.  He answered my questions rightly; I knew he wasn't being mean.  He wasn't afraid to answer things I wondered about, just like Wall.  I tilted my head to the side and asked another question.

                "Can I have them back?"

                He shook his head no, and he was so sad about it.

                "Can I have them back?"

                I asked it again, and this time I felt scared.  I heard my voice squeak a little bit.  Little droplets of water rolled from my eyes, salty tasting droplets.

                "I want them back," I whispered.

                The man dressed in all black lifted me gently out of my bed and held me.  I think the little droplets kept pouring from my eyes a long time.  He waited until I was all done, and then I think after a very, very long time, he put me back.  I didn't talk to Wall that night.  I was too sad and I couldn't think. 

 

~

 

                "Puddle?" 

                I let out a long sigh.  For some reason, Wall's voice seemed closer than before, but I felt like I didn't care.

                "Hi Wall," I said back quietly. 

                I wasn't sure he could hear me, but amazingly he did.  Someone put a hand on mine.  I looked up, and there was a man there.  He had a very, very skinny arm, and it was shiny too.  Even though his touch was cold, it was comforting. 

                His hand reached my face, and cradled my cheek lightly, and I blushed.

                "I need to tell you something," he said quietly.

                His voice was deeper than when it came through the wall.  It sounded fuzzy and nice. 

                "You seem sad," I said.

                I couldn't see his eyes, but it was just the way he said it. He nodded, and breathed out for a long time.

                "I want to apologize."

                I tilted my head.  I was pretty sure it was becoming my way to ask and say things I didn't have words for, and I think it helped.  He eased himself down into the chair, but it seemed like he didn't use his arms at all.

                "I was working at the hotel the night you and your family had the accident.  I was at the desk, and I refused to give you a room.  You see, your family was poor, and you couldn't pay the bill.  I said that you couldn't stay, and that you had to find somewhere else."

                He stopped for a moment.  I wanted him to keep going.  Every word he said, I listened to intently.  They made pictures in my head, and I wanted to know what happened next. After a long time, it seemed, he continued.

                "The weather was too bad for you to stay in your car, and I wasn't letting you stay inside.  So you guys left.  I remember it so well.  Your father pleaded, and your mother had tears in her eyes.  She was holding you, you in your happy blue dress but with eyes as big as saucers an your arms around your mother's neck.  But I sent you out anyway."

                He stopped again, and I almost asked a question.  Instead, I held my tongue.  I wanted to know the rest of the story.

                "When I was on break, I went out to my truck.  I felt badly.  You see…I didn't want to make you go, but my manager would be angry if I let you stay.  I had already broken the rules several times, and I needed the money the job could give.  But on break, I decided to go out and give you a room anyway, or at least some place to be safe.  I drove for about half an hour, holding my steering wheel tight and searching for your family."

                I could barely believe it.  I still was following his story, but I realized something then�"I remembered  a fancy light-thing that hung from the ceiling, and I remembered the red, red floor.  I remembered my mother's hand on my back, too.  She was patting it gently.

                "My boss called, and that was when the wind flipped over my truck.  It tumbled, and the first thing I thought about was how I hoped that this hadn't happened to your family.  You didn't deserve it, but I did.  They found me a few days later, pinned in and banged up pretty bad.  They had to cut off my arms to get me out, so I have fake ones, now."

                I hugged him, then, tightly.  He was surprised, but he hugged my back.  I could feel his tears on my gown, and I started to cry too.  He was sad, but I didn't want him to be.

                "Thank you," I said.  "Thank you so much."

                He looked at me, confused.

                "Why..Why do you say thank you?"

                "Because," I said quietly.  "You sacrificed your job, your arms, and almost your life for me." 

 

~

 

                Wall made me his own child now, so I have a father again.  The man in black helped us, and so did Ray.  We live in a nice small house now.  Two years ago he married a very nice lady, and she makes such a wonderful mommy.  She bakes cookies for birthdays and she helps me with my homework.  The man in black was made to be my Godfather, but I call him Grandpa.  We're a happy family. 

                I'm 14 now.  They say that I'm doing well in school, even though I'm in a special school.  The crash was four years ago.  Every Thursday night, Daddy takes me to the cemetery.  We lay flowers on my parents' graves, and Grandpa says a prayer in Latin.  Then we are all quiet, remembering how we all became a family.

Author's Note

What are your thoughts? I'm really working on my short stories. Your comments and what-not are really appreciated.

Reviews

[Gabby]

Very good, I loved the descriptions. But I think it might be helpful to state near the start of the story that the character was 10, I thought she was an adult until you were talking about the mother holding her.