Jenny smoothed her hand over the leather upholstery of the first automobile to be inventoried into their business. She examined the dashboard with satisfaction. Her first fixed asset was a beauty and upheld her confidence in the success of the business.
The copy of signed documents was neatly folded in the glove compartment as she fiddled around inside, figuring out all the buttons, getting the seats and mirrors adjusted, and programming the radio for her favorites. Her first employee needed a vehicle, and she decided he would get her old one. This new one was hers, at least for now. After all, being the owner had a few perks, right? She needed to break in the new vehicle and tonight served that purpose perfectly.
Dusk bloomed, and then faded as the clouds developed a mesmerizing pink and gray haze to them when the sun dipped its final bow behind the cityscape. With the Thanksgiving holiday just two days away, Jenny expected a slow night. Her common sense reminded her it would be short-lived. As soon as Thursday was gone, a steady slur of holiday parties promised to keep all three drivers in constant movement.
The car purred out of the dealership, gliding freely toward her first pickup of the day. A new customer was the perfect way to celebrate the new car. She rehashed her phone conversation with David last night, frowning. His concert went well. The fans loved him, of course. He was ecstatic, chattering rapidly about the music, the band, and the crowd — but he was 600 miles away. He sounded distant in more ways than just physical miles. She couldn’t really place it, but something had changed. His rushed call between the show and his trip to his hotel disappointed. The constant news releases about him over the past weeks just made his phone call substantiate her concerns.
She lectured herself that perhaps their affection was based more on the excitement of “beginning” than on each other. Maybe it had simply been a strange support system that bolstered them through the first rough seams of building businesses and careers. They were polar opposites. Together they didn’t make sense. Maybe there wasn’t any relationship at all.
Jenny pulled the car to a halt in front of a convenience store, and tapped some buttons on the display to browse through the GPS. She needed directions to the new customer’s location. The GPS was her lifeline during work hours. She pondered if a similar device existed for personal lives and relationships.
Were there steps that forecasted success in developing stronger ties? A guide map, so to speak? Her prior track record symbolized a serious lack of ability in the love realm. In all relationships, if she evaluated herself honestly. Abrasiveness sometimes had a downfall. She shrugged. Big deal. It also conveniently disguised the vulnerabilities one preferred unshared.
Jenny sped along the feeder road of the freeway on cue, ready to make the right turn encouraged by her best friend, GPS. The apartments ahead caught her eye. Actually a movement in front of them alarmed her.
A little girl with dark curls and a determined face bounced a ball next to the street. She focused on slapping against the ball to push it down against the pavement then back up to her. Jenny squinted into the sun, looking at the apartments for an adult to attach the child to. Nothing. Didn’t anyone notice this child standing next to a busy intersection? It was the oldest cliché in the book. Unattended child, bouncing a ball — the next thing to happen was a given.
Jenny slowed. The back of her neck cooled. The girl laughed at fumbling attempts to control the ball, yet her eyes remained solidly focused on her efforts. Her voice jingled and Jenny had no idea why or how she heard it. Then her eyes rose and rounded. Her mouth opened in panic.
“Walky, stop!” she screamed.
A figure darted in front of Jenny’s car and she slammed on the brakes. Her heart flung to her throat and pounded against her esophagus, cutting off her breathing. “No!” she blurted as she yanked the wheel and slammed the car to the curb. The car jumped the curb with a thud and glided forward. She couldn’t stop. It hurtled straight toward those dark curls. The little girl’s open mouth no longer screamed; she just stared. It was the last thing Jenny saw before she slammed into the corner light post and wrapped the hood of her new car around it.
As Jenny fluttered her eyes open, an immense dread filled her. She stared up at clouds and blue sky. “I’m
so sorry,
” she uttered. “He just ran out in front of me. I didn’t even know he was there.” Pain throbbed in her forehead. She raised a hand to feel the knot forming above her left eye.
“Who ran in front, ma’am?” the paramedic asked as he shone a light into her eyes and danced it from left to right. He ran his hands down her left arm, then right, proceeding to her legs with mild pressure.
“I’m fine,” Jenny affirmed. “No need to do that.” She pushed against the hard, cold cement underneath her and rose to sit.
“Stay down. You’ve had a pretty bad blow to the head.” He pressed her shoulder back to the cloth on the pavement. “Can you tell me your name ma’am?”
She gave her name, then he asked for her address and if she had any significant health issues he needed to be aware of.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked, as he checked her blood pressure.
“Where’s the little girl? She was in front of me on the roadside here. She tried to warn him. Wally, Walty, or maybe it was Walky — I think. He ran in front of me. She screamed. I jerked the wheel to miss him but I think I was too late. Is he okay?” Jenny tried to look around, the hand still pressed against her. She processed the police redirecting traffic, the cars backed up, and the ambulance beside them. That was all. What happened to the little girl and her friend — or was it a dog?
“There wasn’t anyone else around, ma’am.” His matter of fact voice punctuated the strange look on his face. He didn’t believe her. “The car behind you called it in. See the lady over there? She said you jumped the curb and hit the post with no warning. Were you on your phone maybe? Or texting? Distracted in any way?”
“No, of course not. I was — I’m not sure. I can’t remember.” Jenny hesitated to say more. She blinked her eyes.
“Hmmm. Well, nothing’s broken and you don’t seem to have any internal injuries other than that nasty bump on your forehead. Still, we need to take you in and check you over to be safe. You might have a bit of a concussion. Fortunately, as head injuries go, that’s the best place to get one. The old saying ‘hardheaded’ isn’t a myth. The bone on your forehead is there to protect the brain, and it does so quite well.”
“That’s good to know.” She peered up at the sky, strumming her fingers over her head. A bulge of skin shaped under them. She glanced at the paramedic.
“It will probably swell a little more and bruise up, but don’t worry.” He motioned to his partner. “Now, we’re going to pick you up and take you to the hospital. Just lay still okay?” She shut her eyes.
• • •
The ride to the hospital proved brutal. The paramedic wouldn’t shut up. She just wanted to close her eyes and rest, but he kept yakking away asking all sorts of questions. At the hospital, the nurse did the same. She couldn’t wait to get home where it was quiet. Jenny persuaded them to release her after almost three hours of observation. They forced her to call someone to pick her up — no going it alone. She tried David with no luck, and then opted for Katy.
“I’m sorry,” Jenny said. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” Katy eyed her as they drove away from the hospital. “Keep that ice on your head or you’re going to look like a unicorn.”
“Can you take me by the intersection where it happened? I just want to see it.”
“Not tonight, girlie. You’re going home and we’re icing that bad boy down for the rest of the evening. Bruce is meeting us at your apartment and we’re staying. Got it?”
“Got it partner.” Jenny looked out the window with her frozen hand gingerly snuggling the icepack. Katy reached across the car and patted her knee like a mother would a child. Jenny analyzed the sympathetic nature of the action. Had she been told what Jenny said to the paramedic?
The following day, Jenny sprawled on the couch with an ice pack on her head. Many miserable hours had elapsed since the accident. She craved sleep but the sleep-Nazi couple refused to allow it. The fourth time Katy jolted her out of an anticipated nap Jenny snapped and flung a shoe at her. Katy confessed they were instructed to keep her awake as much as possible. Apparently with a concussion, the patient should remain awake in order to prevent further damage or — worst case — a coma. Jenny promptly offered to concuss the both of them if they woke her one more time.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t shake me. Don’t prod me. And definitely, don’t even
think
about turning on that damn light,” Jenny cursed as she pointed toward the bedroom. She tossed the ice pack from her forehead into the kitchen sink, and then went to bed, closing the door decisively behind her. She eased herself under the sweet comfort of the waiting sheets, closed her eyes and promptly drifted into a blissful slumber. Jenny briefly considered locking the door but chose not to get up. The sheets felt amazing; closing her eyes was heaven.
“Hey, Babe.” David’s voice interrupted the fog blanketing her brain. Jenny flicked her eyes open, stared at the blue eyes and bright smile and groaned. “Oh, God. You’ve come to throw me over the cliffs.” She pulled a pillow over her head to block out the overhead light.
“No, I just brought you a Tylenol.” He laughed. The pillow was yanked away. The bed lurched as he leaned to pull a water glass from the table beside them.
“Oh, in that case, you’re an angel.”
“Ha. Hardly.” He grinned.
“Where’s Katy?”
“She and Bruce had to go to work. They answered your phone when I called.”
“I’m sorry they bothered you with this.”
“It’s fine. I’m only here for a little while, though. I have a flight to Miami this evening. We snagged a gig there for a few days.” He patted her arm gently. “So, it appears you finally lost a fight, babe. Maybe you should think about that saying, ‘make love, not war’ and try not to attack things that are hard and don’t move when you push them. You know, like light poles?”
The bed shifted as he rose and moved to the door. “David?” she murmured. When he turned she said, “Thanks for being here.”
“No problem, babe. Get some rest.” The door clicked behind him. Her eyes fell shut.
• • •
Jenny lifted a hand to brush it across the bump. She dropped the hand back to the steering wheel and looked out the windshield. Fog surrounded her. It laced in and out, lightly teasing to cloak her in blindness. Ahead, on the side of the road, she noticed the intersection where the accident occurred. The fog whirled back to reveal the little girl. She waited for Jenny to creep up alongside. Jenny slowed to a halt and bent her head down to peer out the window. The fog behind her twisted itself into all sorts of animal and human shapes, then unfurled into trees and houses.
She’s okay
. Thank God.
The girl entered the car on her own and turned to smile at Jenny. “They were right,” she said in her sweet, small voice.
“Right?”
“They told me if I waited, you would show up.”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried. I thought I’d — ”
“I’m okay,” the girl confirmed. “And you’re gonna help me.”
“Sure. Of course. What can I do?” Jenny turned toward the little girl, before asking.
“Do you need a ride home?”
“Yeah. I’m Shilo. Don’t ask me why my mama named me that ‘cause I don’t know. Everybody asks. It’s a stupid name, ’specially for a girl, but I’m stuck with it.” The girl nervously scratched her leg. A dark spot of dirt smeared over her left eye.
“It’s a good name, Shilo. I like it. It’s different and different is good.”
“No. It’s dumb. What’s your name?” She flicked a curl back from her grimy face.
“Jenny Madison. Nice to meet you. Can you tell me where to go?”
“It’s up there.” Her little finger, covered in dirt, pointed to a street they approached.
“Just turn and go to the second house.”
“No problem. Tell me, Shilo, where’s your mom? Does she know you’re out here? This is a pretty busy place for a person your size to play.”
“She’s resting.”
Jenny pulled the car to a stop in front of a modest, Mediterranean-style home of yellow stucco with red clay tile roofing. Shilo opened the car door, stepped out, and leaned toward Jenny. “Thank you, Miss Madison.” She smiled.
“Just call me Jenny.”
“My mama says that’s not polite. Good girls always say things right and use Miss or Missus. Like Miss Madison. It’s ‘spectful. But if you want, I can call you Miss Jenny. She’s okay with that. Says it’s ‘spectful too as long as you say it’s okay.”
“Sure, Shilo, it’s okay.”
“Good. See you around, Miss Jenny.” The little girl waved.
Jenny felt a shove against her back. She turned and looked out the window to see a tanned hand moving toward her, toward the window. She lunged backward in alarm. It shook her. She checked it again in confusion, and then woke up. She blinked twice as David’s grinning face came into focus.
“You have to stop doing that,” she mumbled.
“Stop doing what?”
“Smiling like that — it’s spooky.” She fisted up her right hand and rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eye. “What time is it?”
“Almost three in the afternoon. Look, I have to jet — and you’ve had way too much rest. Get up. Let’s grab something to eat before I leave for the airport.” He patted her leg impatiently. For the first time, she saw the smile slip.
“Everything okay?” She threw the blanket off, stood, and opened her closet to pull out clothes.
“Fine.” His lips noticeably tensed. “I really need to go, babe. Let’s book.” He clapped his hands twice to punctuate his message. She jumped at the sound and grabbed her jeans from the shelf. Jenny looped a shirt off its hanger with one hand and turned. He was reading the display on his phone. His expression indicated there was trouble in band paradise.