It Begins. . . .

The woman (Tina, my love) is terrified and they try to calm her, assuring her that they will not leave her. With fumbling fingers, the young man pulls a cell-phone from the backpack. It comes to life reassuringly in his hand, the buttons glowing the green of a full charge. He dials 911. He talks briefly with the dispatcher on the other end. They are sending an ambulance, now, the dispatcher reports. He nods. He closes the phone with a snap and it falls to the ground from his fingers. He continues to talk to her, tears streaming down his face. She will live and that’s all that matters. The old man talks to the young woman telling her that it will be all right. The young man tells her that an ambulance is on the way. He leans into the car, his face close to hers, he can smell the greasy iron smell of her blood as he dresses the lacerations to her scalp and arms. He tells her not to try to move. He looks deep into her eyes and smiles. Touches the side of her face with his hand and strokes her hair. He says her name, “Tina.” She raises her eyes to his. “Tina, my b-, Tina you are going to be fine, I know it.”

“I know it” he repeats.

(Several seconds pass)

In the distance the faint wail of the siren is heard as it approaches the accident and the young man slowly rises to his feet. He steps away from the car and as he starts walking away from the car he puts a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he says in a thin whisper, “’til they come.”

The old man nods solemnly and looks down at the woman. He looks back up the ravine at the young man struggling up towards the highway. He realizes that he is able to see right through the young man (indeed only an outline remains) as he reaches the highway waving his arms to flag down the approaching ambulance. A fire truck is close behind. The ambulance, lights flashing, siren wailing, pulls to the side of the road and a spotlight searches the woods until shines upon the wrecked Civic and the old man holding the woman’s head. The two paramedics jump out and after pulling their equipment from the back of the rig, make their way carefully down towards the wreck. The old man looks from one to the other and draws his breath as he sees face of the first. Hands trembling, knees weak, he allows the paramedic to take his hands from her head. He steps back, hands trembling, knees weak.

“Did…didn’t you see the boy trying to flag you down up there?” he asks the second paramedic, his voice shaking.

“What boy? There was no one there, “ replies the paramedic, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The old man pauses a moment and says, “I hardly know where to begin.”

“Just tell me what you saw.”

The old man paused again, collecting his thoughts, “Well, I was following this woman’s car here and she hit a patch of ice and ran off the road and her car finally came to a stop down here. I had some stuff in my car, it’s my son’s car actually, he’s a paramedic and I brought it down here with me. I had some training as a medic when I was in the Korean War and I just did what I could. Then I called 911 on my cell phone.”

“Well it was a good thing you were here,” says the second medic. “She wouldn’t have lasted too long in this cold.”

“I just did what I could,” the old man says quietly and as the paramedics busy themselves caring for their patient, he bends down to retrieve the backpack lying at his feet. He opens it and under some bandages, he finds the gun, tracing its outline with his fingers. Under the gun he finds two more cell phones. Hands shaking, he zipped up the backpack and placed it over his shoulder. The paramedics and the firemen are already preparing to carry the woman up to the waiting ambulance. Strapped to a backboard, she is carried gently up the slope and placed on a waiting stretcher as the old man follows them up the hill.

“Ma’am, we’re going to be taking you to the hospital, now” says the first paramedic as they lift the stretcher into the ambulance. The old man stares at his face, scarcely believing it.

“Wait” the woman raise a blood hand from underneath the blankets and places it on the paramedic’s arm. “Wait. Tell those two men thank you for stopping to help me.”

The old man reaches in to the back of the ambulance and places a hand on woman’s foot, “You’re welcome.”

As the firemen close the back doors of the ambulance, he takes hold of one and before they are closed completely, he looks up at the first paramedic, busy with a pair of shears trimming the woman’s coat from her body and says, sternly “Young man!”

The paramedic looks up, “Yes sir?”

“You be sure to take care of that woman’s cat.”

The End.