Wreck

A nasty case of road rash.

 

The EMS van slid to a halt on the wet pavement where two attendants jumped out and raced through a driving rain to the motionless figure that laid prostrate, half on the pavement, and half in the roadside puddle. Steam rose from the still sputtering motorcycle that had torn huge divots as it tumbled down the grassy slope to where it finally came to rest. LeBron Johnson and Sara Cameron had tended to many accident victims in the three years that they’d been partners on the Metro EMS service, but this was the first time either of them had ever watched an accident as it happened. They'd been driving back into the small city where they were based after having taken a heart attack victim to Mercy Hospital, which was just a few miles outside of the city. Bron, as Sara called him, was driving and had just commented on how crazy the guy ahead of them must be to be riding a motorcycle at two in the morning in a driving rain when the barely visible tail light of the motorcycle jerked violently left across the center line and then back across the right lane and into the phone pole. The two partners watched in horror as the enormous body of the rider bounced like a rag doll off of the phone pole and cartwheeled another fifty feet through a hail of sparks where he mercifully, came to rest.

 

        Bron stopped the unit so that it’s headlights and spotlight fell on the motionless rider; it was the only light that they had to work with. The air was thick with the pungent smell of spilled gasoline, and the driving rain wasn’t making their job any easier. The man was face down in the puddle when they got to him, which posed only a momentary dilemma. If they moved him, they might do spinal damage, but if they left him as he was, he would definitely drown in that awful muddy puddle. Sara pressed a hard plastic backboard against his neck and shoulders and on 'three'; they both rolled his near three hundred pound body over to his back. The long straggly hair couldn’t hide the palm size flap of flesh that was torn from the right side of his head. Even the raging torrent couldn’t keep pace with the blood that seeped from this devastating wound, and from the horrible ‘road rash’ that marred him from head to toe. Miraculously though, the man was still alive. Sara noted that his fractured right fibula, protruded grotesquely through the skin, but such an injury was probably not life threatening. She ripped the leather vest and tee shirt from the man’s thickly muscled chest and stopped, gasping just audibly enough to inadvertently draw Bron’s attention.

 

        “What’s wrong?” He snapped, trying to snap her out of her momentary revulsion for whatever gore stood before her.

 

Sara didn’t utter a word. She just knelt there in that rain, with her hand over her still agape mouth. Finally, Bron looked away from the gaping wound he’d been dressing to see what had Sara frozen. There were no gruesome injuries. There were just tattoos, a deep crimson Swastika and the words 'N****r Exterminator' in an ironically beautiful Olde English print face. Bron froze for just a moment; subconsciously letting out that same incredulous gasp that had escaped Sara’s lips. He then went diligently back to his work; sliding a tube down the behemoth’s throat to assure that he could breathe.

 

        “Did you call this one in? Because I didn’t; we could just take our s**t and drive away!” she said, now standing and slowly backing up.

 

        “Set his leg and help me secure him to this backboard.” Bron answered intentionally avoiding eye contact with Sara.

 

        “How can you treat this … this … thing.” She protested. “Are you forgetting what my maiden name is? It’s monsters like this that killed my grandfather. How will I face my grandmother if I save his life?”

 

        “I know, I know, you're Sara Cohen ... and he will have to answer to God for the things that he’s done. And if we let him lie here and die tonight, we’ll have to answer to God for that. If we don’t try to save him … we’ll have to live with ourselves.”

 

Finally, grudgingly, Sara helped secure the mountain of a man with evil 'written all over him', and they transported him to Mercy Hospital.

 

If nothing else the episode had provided kindling for spirited debate. Over the next several months Bron and Sara had many a philosophical discussion about that night. This particular Wednesday night wasn’t much different. They had spent most of the night in the dining room at the station having the same old debate and even as they walked towards the door at the end of their shift, Sara was unwilling to let the matter drop.

 

        “People like that do nothing but cultivate evil and make this world a living Hell.” Sara exclaimed, getting a tad exercised as she often did when the topic arose.

 

        “I’m not disagreeing with you Sara, I just cannot allow myself to make decisions as to who lives and who dies. My job is to try to make sure that when I’m around, nobody dies!” Bron answered, smiling at her consternation as he pulled the door open for her.

 

        Sara never answered however. She stood in slack-jawed awe. There, before her stood six feet five inches and three hundred pounds of Darren Atwood. When Bron turned to see what she was looking at, his heart slammed into his throat. He had been on some harrowing calls before, but he’d never been more frightened than he was at this moment.

 

        “I’m sorry,” came the deep, gravelly voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was looking for Sara Cameron and LeBron Johnson”

 

The two EMT’s stood mute for a few moments before Sara finally spoke.

 

“I’m Sara, and this is LeBron. How can we help you?” she answered coldly.

 

The huge man began to get restless. He could sense their apprehension.

 

“Don’t you remember me? You saved my live on May 12 of this year.”

 

“Yeah … I remember you.” Sara said with palpablle contempt, as she re-gained a small measure of her courage.

 

“Oh!” Darren said, head now hung. “I’m sorry you both had to see those horrible things tattooed on me. I was very ignorant a long time ago. I'm not that man anymore. I married a wonderful woman who taught me that love is so much more powerful than hate. I was going to have them removed, but my wife told me to keep them. She said that every morning when I look in the mirror I should let those things remind me not to judge anyone by what I see on the outside that day. That they should remind me that God can save anyone, even the lost soul that I was. So I kept them. But I’m ashamed of what I was, and I'm sorry you had to see them. And I just wanted to give you these … my way of saying thank you.”

 

With that he handed them each a large brown paper bag. Bron and Sara pulled out near duplicates of the most spectacular hand drawn, matted and framed sketches of a lion lying down with a lamb. Each had the same 'D. Atwood' signature in their lower, right hand corner. Before they could look up to thank him, Darren Atwood was gone.

 

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

Ok, your descriptions and the action in this piece are on point and I thought I knew where you were going - figuring the guy would have a turn around - I EXPECTED that and thought I knew what was going to happen...how nice, right? But NO -you came at it from a different angle - and I love that. Took a potentially good solid story with a good solid message and WOWED me. Nicely done.

[George Love]

Powerful story, well written and very descriptive. Good work!

[Bubo]

Now thats what I call one of those stories where you have a beaming smile at the end...........beautiful, starts off so bloody, emotions high, and then the perfect end with a very valuable moral, it is a lesson learnt never to judge someone on appearance alone.............stunning, enjoyable piece.

[Danielle Watkins]

It was written a just a tad choppy, but for being such a fast reading I can forgive that completely (I have too little time to wade through some of the stuff on these sites). I really liked the message, and how you made the cirle come back around to make the reader think not just about revenge, but that compassion, however how hard to give, may lead to a deeper realization.

[Sunny]

Well written. Completely follows the idea that a story should be shown and not told. Fantastic sentiment and revelation. Very nice, Creepy, which is what I always expect out of you.

[Spencer L.]

This story gave me chills when i read it. And it's meaning is quite true. Rescue workers often have to attempt to save the life of someone who may be despicable or hate-filled. To me the message, or moral, was not that we can never judge a book by its cover, or that we never know who a person really is despite appearances. Rather the moral to me is that we must always do what is right. That we, as human beings with a conscience, must make decisions that will allow us to look in the mirror the next day. I applaud you on your crafting of such a story as this. i look forward to reading more of your works.

[Narnie]

Good call Jerry. I often think back to the kids that used to plague me when I was a teen - Skinheads the lot of them and they used to beat me and my friends up at eery opportunity (yeah, Im white... they hated everyone). I wonder now whether they have changed and feel this too.

You have given me an idea for a story, haha. Ohhhhhhhhh if only I had time to write it!!!

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

All I can say is "WOW". This piece is awesome, no doubt about it. Great work, I'm still speechless!!!

Heather

[Sic Vita]

This, I must admit, is the first short story that I've read here that instantly caught and kept my attention. It began with the grotesque "The long straggly hair couldn�t hide the palm size flap of flesh that was torn from the right side of his head. ", which ignited shivers up my spine, and ended with gratitude, which transformed shiver to warmth.

You are a fantastic writer. Do keep it up!

[Brandon Meyers]

I really dig the moral solidity behind this story. It's purpose had an enlightening coil that unwound perfectly to the end. Sidenote, I also had a friend who was in a bad motorcyle accident, so I could relate well to the setting. Very well written, I really enjoyed it!

[Sherry Lynn]

WOW... this isi great. I was looking at going into the medical field before a car accident. And I even dated a basic EMT for a few years. I know the type of scenes and individuals they come upon, and I also know how hard it is to ignore your own anger towards someone and continue working to save that life.

You did such a wonderful job capturing the anger and hurt that Sarah felt while also addressing the main code of honor that medics have through the character Bron. If someone did not know any better then they would have to assume that you have worked the field yourself and wrote this from a personal experience.

The is very touching, and at the same time very valuable information that the world needs to hear. Thank you for writing this and also for staying with the health care code.


--Sher