“Joe!” A guy in a buff colored fire coat, striped with patched reflective tape, scrambled up over the passenger side and slid down the hood. He tossed a black helmet at his feet as he knelt down. I lay, sorta, on my left side and stared at him. He pressed his face against the windshield. I barely recognized Nash Potter through the haze of fractured glass. “Calm down! Don’t panic!” He shouted at me through a layer of jello. “Hang on, we’re gonna get you out.” ‘Least I thought it might be him…hard to tell. My vision still weren’t completely right, least not on fine details, and I couldn’t fully hear him through the ringing in my ears.
Realized, maybe, they all weren’t whispering. I spared a prayer that this all didn’t leave nothing too permanent with my eardrums. Panting like a ‘coon being chased down by a pack of dogs, my body shook and I couldn’t keep from tugging at the belt across my chest. The cold air and an open window eased me some. Still felt penned, all in pain, like some animal in a snare.
Nash stood. “Let’s get this windshield out of the way!” Things got kinda jumbled and crazy. Someone passed down a turnout coat. Told me to cover my face. Didn’t want to, but I did. The smack-crunch of an ax on the window frame shuddered the vehicle. Had to bite my lip, ‘cause each time the impact hit, the hurt shot through my nerves like a swarm of angry hornets. Can’t even say how long it took them but finally someone reached in and pulled the coat off me.
A voice that sounded of the angels themselves, said, “Hey.” Kabe, all got up in borrowed turnout gear, reached through the open part of the windshield.
A firefighter caught up his hand. “Get back!”
Two words. All Kabe hissed was two words, “Make me!” and the man dropped his grip. I don’t think I’d ever seen a look that hard in Kabe’s eyes. Don’t know as I could have stood my ground afore it.
I latched onto Kabe’s fingers like they were the last inch of rope between me and a thousand foot drop. I tried to say,
stay with me
or
don’t let me go…
nothing but, “Lord, almighty…” came out in this hoarse wheeze.
“Okay, Joe.” Kabe squeezed my fingers. “I have to move just a moment.” That made me tighten up my grip. “Look, okay?” He started prying my fingers off his hand. “Paramedics here need to check you out.”
Somehow I managed to stutter out, “Don’t leave.” Couldn’t stand the plea in my voice, but I just got a shred of sanity to hold onto and there he was saying he’s gone.
“Joe, Joe, Joe.” He used my name like a momma shushing a baby. “They need to check you. They need to put a cervical collar on.” Kabe started to pull away and I grabbed at him. “No, Joe. Keep still. Trust me!” Stroking my hand, he pushed it up against the steering wheel and wrapped my fingers around the hard plastic. “I can’t do this…couple months from now and my cert comes through.” He squeezed my hand. “I’ll be your paramedic then.” After one more hard squeeze, Kabe backed away. “Right now, you got to let the professionals do their job.” It was like every inch he moved away strung the muscles of my heart out across the shattered glass in the frame of the windshield.
Jess Garts, loopy smile and sheriff’s issue ball cap turned ‘round backwards, pushed in from somewhere around the roof of the vehicle. “Hey, Joe.” He knelt down to where I could see him. “You know, there are easier ways to get a few days off.” I managed something of a smile in response. “Everyone’s got their hands full, so I’m going to check you out right now.”
Kabe stood to give Jess room. They had to smush themselves together in this little corner of space. Somebody shouted something that caught Kabe’s attention. Whoever it was passed him a foam collar and then he handed it down to Jess. A big ol’ box came next and Kabe left that on the upturned side of the Explorer.
Jess crawled into the cab about halfway. “Alright, Joe, while I get this big ol’ thing on you, you got to tell me where you hurt.”
“Where don’t I?” Could barely bring in enough air to speak.
It was all awkward for him to fix the collar ‘round my neck, what with me on my side and the steering wheel up against his stomach. “What’s the worst?”
“Left leg.” I coughed it out. “Left arm. My chest. My face. Kinda in that order.”
“Al’right.” He nodded. “Can you move your leg?”
Tried and gave up in about a moment. “Don’t think it’s trapped.” I gritted it out through my teeth. “But I’m going to rattle rooftops two counties from here if I try to move it.”
As Jess started in on checking out my vitals he added another, “Al’right.” Took him a few minutes of having Kabe pass him the right monitor or tool to size up the damage. “Al’right, then.” Jess backed off a bit and stood up next to Kabe. “Your turn to play twenty questions.”
“What?”
“You know him as good as any of us. Ask him stuff so we can make sure he ain’t cracked that thick skull of his. I got to go talk with the guys about how we’re going to get Joe outta this tin can.”
“Back.” As Kabe knelt down, he grinned and reached in for my hand. “Miss me?” He teased before starting in with a question. “Okay, what’s your name?”
Took his grip. All of a sudden the world just seemed to slip a little closer to center. I could manage. I’d be out of here soon and everything would be okay. “Joe Peterson.” I started coughing again and it took me a moment before I could ask, “What happened to the kid in the red car?”
Kabe looked at me funny. “Red car?”
Maybe he thought I’d scrambled my brains some. “The one I was after.” Had to wade through another fit of coughs. Figured with all the dust, muck and how the belt had locked on my chest, I could be worse off. “Hit the semi and then hit me.”
“Oh.” Kabe grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t know, Joe. By the time we hit the scene…” he shrugged, “there’s five other cars, an RV and a big rig in all this mess. Did some minor first aid on the folks in the RV and then they called me over here. So I don’t know.” I let that sink in as Kabe started in with the questions again. Went through my job and my address and who the heck the president was. Kabe had to search for a moment to come up with the next round of three or four. I knew he was reaching when he hit, “Where’d you do your mission?”
I understood why he peppered me with questions: kept me awake, made sure I weren’t slipping off into territory of brain swelling. “Uruguay.” Still, I hurt and I was bushed and I wanted to be out of this vehicle. “You could at least make these questions fun.” I groused.
“Okay.” His grin went wicked. “First time we had sex, where was it.”
I coughed out, “Oh Lord.” I’d tied him up in the back of my truck while we were out in the middle of nowhere. “Let’s go back to the not so fun ones.”
“You don’t remember,” he teased.
“Remember just fine.” Took me a bit to get it out. “I don’t want to say out here.” Got saved from more embarrassment when Jess dropped back in from over the vehicle’s side.
He tapped Kabe on the shoulder as he hunkered down to where I could see him better. “Al’right, Joe. We got a couple of options.” The big ol’ set of bolt-cutters he carried went across his knees. “Can try and pull you out over the dash or the passenger side. Either way, we’re gonna take part of the roof off and,” Jess patted the tool for emphasis, “start cutting out the steering column. You’re going to be here a while.”
Kabe stared at Jess, then at me and then looked over my shoulder. “Why don’t we take him out through the back?” Pointing towards the rear of the vehicle, Kabe added, “Cut the seat back. Lay him down and slide him out.”
Smiling and using an instructor’s kinda voice, Jess shot him down. “Normally that’s a great idea in an SUV.” Jess fished a smaller tool out of one of the pockets on his uniform and used it to point behind my head. “But he’s got a big ol’ plastic barrier and more important, the steel plate behind the seats. Here.” He handed Kabe the small Houdini rescue tool he carried; looked just like mine. Realized then I had mine on me…’cept in the patch pocket on my left pant’s leg. Couldn’t have gotten to it even if I had been thinking clear.
Jess stood and reached over the Explorer’s side where I couldn’t see. When he came back down to my level, he had a bunch of blankets in his arms. “Okay,” Jess eased around Kabe and started shoving the blankets down along my left side. “Flip the hook open and cut his seatbelt, then you’re going to use the bolt cutters to remove the housing and steering column.”
Kabe’s eyes went wide. “Me?”
“You got to learn sometime.” Jess snorted. “Might as well be with someone I know you’re really going to try not to hurt.”
“Come on, boy.” I took in about as deep a breath as I could manage. “Ain’t nobody in the world I trust more to get me out of here.” I even managed a smile. “You gonna do this just fine.”
I cracked open my eyes and almost immediately regretted it. Hazy, disjointed memories of ambulance rides, doctors and a world of hurt cycled around the inside of my head with no rhyme or reason to them. I could feel pain, lots of pain, but it was all muffled, like someone else’s body really experienced it and mine kinda looked on from somewhere about two feet up. My lungs ached as bad as if I’d pushed myself through a six mile sprint with full gear. On top of it, my nose seemed stuffed with cotton and the taste of Freon coated my tongue.
Since I couldn’t do much about that right then, I took in my surroundings for a bit. Down, near abouts my right thigh, Kabe slept; his shoulders propped on the bed, his face pillowed on his crossed arms. I guessed his butt must be in a chair or something, but I couldn’t see it from where I was.
Just watching him snooze quieted my thoughts. Every time I looked at that boy it hit me as hard the first time I’d ever seen him. Kabe’s wild hair fell over his eyes just a bit; a dark black mess hiding warm brown skin. A little slice of winter sunset seeped through the window, highlighting his sharp features. When he slept, Kabe looked all of his twenty-three years. It eased the normally guarded set to his muscles. After two years of prison, sleep equaled about the only time he even sort of relaxed. The hand closest to mine cupped my own…almost as if he were afraid to let go. I shifted, without really meaning to, and brushed his palm with the tips of my fingers.
Kabe’s eyes shot open in time to a sucked in breath. “Hey.” Boy looked dead tired. Still, his tight smile lit up his face like a kid on Christmas morning.
I weren’t quite ready to deal with how that smile roared through my senses, so I grumbled, “Why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck?” The words rolled out like I had a mouth full of marbles.
Kabe stood and moved closer to my shoulder, where I could see him a bit better. “Technically, you kind of were…” A deep, heavy breath fought its way up from inside his chest. “Hit by your own truck. Don’t you remember?”
“Yeah, sorta.” Vaguely remembered it all. Although, I seemed to lose little bits here and there when I tried to focus on the wreck. I thought I might like to sit up some, but my brain couldn’t quite make my body do what I wanted it to. When I really forced the issue, just willing myself to move, instead of going up I started to cough…dry and hacking like someone rubbed sandpaper down my windpipe.
“Joe, you okay? What are you doing?”
Managed to force the words out through the coughing, “Wanna sit like, you know, I don’t want to lay here.” I knew I should be able to say it better and just couldn’t quite catch the words I needed. Felt like I sifted out my thoughts through a layer of sawdust that ended up dribbling down my throat.
Kabe bent down a bit and fished around the side of my bed. Then he came back up with this big old controller. “Here.”
When I just gave up and stopped fighting, the coughing eased up some. I stared up at the white piece of plastic covered in half a dozen buttons. “Huh?” It came out all wheezed.
For a second Kabe looked off towards the window behind him and ran his fingers across his scalp a few times, mussing up that tangle of dark hair. When he shifted his attention back to me, he wore a tight smile. “You’re stoned out of your mind.” He pressed one button and the bed started to move a bit. “Tell me when you’re good.”
When I wasn’t quite sitting, but weren’t laying down neither, I said, “That’s good.” ‘Bout that time I realized that my left hand felt about three times heavier than it should. I rolled my head and looked down. Just that small movement felt all wrong and jerky like the muscles on the left side of my neck didn’t think they really had to do what I thought they ought. My left hand, wrist to palm, was wrapped in plaster with the ring and pinky fingers bound together. I kinda wrinkled my brows together to puzzle it out, and, oh Lord, did that hurt. I brought my right hand up to try and see what was what and Kabe grabbed it.
“Don’t touch your face.”
I realized there was this hump of something right between my eyes. And one of my eyes, well it wouldn’t seem to open quite all the way. “Why not?” That and lots of little things itched across my cheeks and forehead, like a ton of paper-cuts littered my skin. Tried to huff a breath through my nose and nothing went out…or in for that matter.
“Dude.” Kabe pushed my hand down to my side. “You busted up your face pretty good.” He ran his thumb along my chin, soft, hesitant and slow. “Airbag broke your nose. Seriously, you fought the car and the car won.” He choked up something that didn’t quite make it to a laugh. “Your face is a mess.”
Now that I was kinda sitting up, I could look myself over. If my face looked half as bad as the rest of me then it weren’t pretty. Besides my hand being all bandaged up, a blue and white sleeve of plastic and Velcro covered my left leg from thigh to calf. I could see my knee through a hole in the brace. A mix of purple and red mottled the skin. All of it was propped up over a series of pillows. Kinda reached over on my left side right about where my piece would have sat against my middle. Ninety kinds of sore lived over there. Seemed that my left side of my body’d taken the brunt of my accident.
Glanced up from my self inventory and caught Kabe rubbing his eyes with the butt of his palms. “What’s wrong with your eyes, boy?”