I channelled a lot of my bad feelings from this week in to finishing this:
Make Damn Sure
The fog plumed through holes in the car windows like spirits escaping the grave, which they very well might have been. A child’s shoe sat 30-feet from the car, small and pink with unicorns on the side, Velcro straps and the child’s leg still ensconced in it. A woman wailed in unison with oncoming sirens and once the authorities arrived, the red of their strobes mingled with the red of the blood staining the street. I sat on the sidewalk, slumped against a STOP sign unable to move. I supposed I was in shock, my body had gone cold and slack and everything before me was wavering as if I was treading water, constantly trying to come up for air but repeatedly being pushed back down.
“Sir!” “Sir?” “Hey, you!”
A cop had spotted me. Fucking hell, what now? I thought. I tried to respond, raise a hand or nod but my body worked against me as if my limbs were chained to the ground. The cop stomped over, nudged me with his foot and my head lolled towards him.
“I’m talking to you, buddy.”
This dude was clearly pissed. I had to do something—say something but what? The cop bent over and reached towards me, his breath redolent of cigarette smoke finally galvanized me in to action; I opened my mouth and began to scream. The dam had broken. I screamed and flailed, trying to ward off the images that were suddenly engulfing my memory, the cop backed away with a horrified expression on his face which, even in my current state, brought me a certain sense of morbid satisfaction. He’d wanted me to speak and I was speaking now; the full-extent of my rage had a voice now and I would not be ignored.
The EMTs searching for signs of life at the site of the crash looked towards me and then looked at each other in panic; they obviously had not signed on for this clusterfuck. I continued to thrash against the sidewalk, whipping my head against the signpost and babbling incoherently. I could have told them that there was no one alive in the car; I was the only one left. I could have told them that my Father had been driving and instead of heeding the rules of the road he had been busy tearing me a new one.
“You are a good-for-nothing piece of shit,” my dad said. “If you spent as much time studying as you do making yourself look like a fucking freak you wouldn’t have flunked out! I can’t believe you’re my kid—this is a mistake.”
I could have told them how my Mother sat in the passenger seat humming to herself as if nothing was happening and how my baby sister, Ellie, had reached over from her seat and put her hand across mine, squeezing my tightly closed fist as she offered me her stuffed elephant, her pure and innocent way of trying to comfort me. I could have told them how the anger that I’d been quelling for years had flooded my body and how I’d tried to control it, flexing my arms and squeezing that little toy elephant for all it was worth. I could have told them my Father’s final words:
“You’re worthless. I wish we’d never had you.”
And then I snapped.
I had gone after my father, lunging forward from the back of the car, releasing the stuffed elephant and wrapping my hands around his throat. This felt better, this felt good, and this felt right.
My mother began to scream and bash me about the head. An elbow quickly thrown her way took care of that distraction and Dad and I got back down to business. I could feel Ellie tugging on the back of my shirt, furiously urging me to calm down; she was obviously frightened and I wanted to let her know that everything would be all right but I couldn’t unclench my hands. Dad was making strange barking noises low down in his throat and the car was swerving from side-to-side in the road. I could feel the end coming and I couldn’t let go of him now. It was almost like the moment before orgasm; you’re straining to get there and absolution is so close, you’re right on the edge of that cliff and just need that nudge to send you over the edge and in to the abyss. Dad’s struggles began to lessen and I felt his body go slack beneath my hands; I inhaled a sigh of relief and that’s when he hit the guard rail. The tiny car flipped and flew through the air; my chest slammed against the back of the driver’s seat and the breath rushed out of me. I remember gripping the headrest, my hands protesting against yet more exertion, my eyes tightly shut while the car did revolutions and the sound of screeching metal, tinkling glass and Ellie’s screams filled my ears. I don’t know how long I kept my eyes shut but when I opened them I was laying on the sidewalk. I lay there and blinked up at the sky in confusion, the complete silence enveloping my ears, a stark contrast to all I’d just been witness to. Ellie was lying near me but something about her looked odd. I stared until I realized her head was cocked at an impossible angle. I slowly sat up and looked towards the car. I couldn’t see Dad from my vantage point but already knew what I would find. Mom, however, was half in and out of the vehicle; her head having gone through the windshield and snagged on jagged pieces of glass. I went to the sidewalk and sat against a STOP sign and watched as the fog plumed through holes in the car windows….
