The Folds

by Clint Townsend

  Sarah rushed to his right side weeping, took his hand, and kissed it.

  Tommy opened his eyes with a flutter. “Hey!” he mumbled. “What’s this I hear?”

  Sarah leaned over and kissed her husband.

  “Should I call in Monday?” he said, trying to joke with a painful cough.

  Sarah sniffed as her chin began to quiver.

  “How’s my boy?” he asked.

  Sarah tried to be strong and control her emotions and breathing, but was incapable of answering at the moment.

  “Sarah?” Tommy asked, raising her head.

  “He’s…in a coma!” Sarah blurted. “He has a concussion and severe whiplash.”

  Tommy closed his eyes tightly to hold his tears back.

  “They…they don’t know if he’ll wake up!” she added.

  After a brief moment, Tommy opened his eyes and gurgled, “The boys?”

  Sarah couldn’t answer. Instead, she turned away from her husband, pressing her hand over her mouth and slightly shook her head.

  The women were moved to a private room after they were informed of their sons’ deaths. One of the ER staff members snuck out earlier and brought back a fifth of Wild Turkey and gave it to Joey. As the women shared drinks and confronted reality, Dr. Artle, in the meanwhile, had taken the four fathers downstairs to identify their sons’ bodies. Once all of the release papers were signed, the men returned upstairs to their wives. Later, Joey, Holley, Monica, and Terri, weary from the day, were rolled out of the ER in wheelchairs with their husbands pushing them. John, Joey, Jason, and Monica climbed into one vehicle with Terri, Holly, Ron, and Casey piling in the other. The cars eased out of the hospital parking lot for a long, quiet trip home.

  REQUIEM

  The news spread like a prairie wildfire. Local and national radio and television stations were interrupting their broadcasts to inform the public of the great tragedy; how four children and a pregnant seventeen-year-old girl all lost their lives in a horrible downtown car crash.

  Sarah tried to get comfortable in the uncomfortable square chairs in Danny and Tommy’s hospital rooms. She would stay a little bit with Tommy, then go down the hall and stay awhile with Danny. Prayer was never a stronger ally for Sarah. The thoughts of potentially losing either one of her boys conflicted with her brightest and fondest memories of each.

  Sarah had called Tommy’s father, Johnny Lee, from the ER room’s courtesy phone with the disheartening news. Before heading into the city to meet Sarah, Johnny, who happened to be the town mayor, called and spoke directly with then Texas’s Governor Dolph Briscoe in Austin. Soon Governor Briscoe, Johnny Lee, local and county officials, and members of state had set up an emergency collection fund for the befallen families in banks across the land. The Office of General Counsel to the Texas Department of Public Safety sent out bulletins to all six DPS district headquarters to notify their troopers of the terrible accident. By Monday, July 25, total collections were in excess of $118,000.

  The money, as determined by Tommy, Sarah, and their friends, went toward securing a large tract of plots in the town cemetery. The plot, measuring almost an acre in size, was more than enough to allow all the boys, as well as other family members in the future, to be buried together. After an exhaustive discussion, it was agreed upon that the family’s plots would be formed in five triangles. When joined at their bases, the five elongated isosceles triangles would form the shape of a Texas star, with one of the boys buried at the base of each arm. The rest of the space in the arm would be for future use, when members of that family would pass. Even though there wasn’t enough time for the plots to be landscaped, eventually, the design elements would come together for a beautiful memorial.

  Casey thought there needed to be something in the middle of the star. Something symbolic maybe to remind themselves and the local townsfolk of the history of these friends, their families, the love they all had for their boys and of the boys’ love for each other. Casey and Terri contacted Brad Butler, a friend of theirs living in Slaton, who did contract specialty work for cemeteries and designed memorials. Brad came up with the idea of making a tall, pentagonal monolith and to place it in a round, shallow pool in the middle of the star with the flat sides facing the base of each arm of the star. He went further to suggest using “Sunset Red” granite from Marble Falls, the same granite that was used in the making of the Texas State Capitol.

  Pastor Brock, Pastor Cregan, and Deacon Farley went to the high school to talk to Holly. They all agreed that the church was too small to support a public mass funeral. After much deliberation between the parents, church, and civic offices, it was decided that the services would be held at the school gymnasium, with private graveside services to be held at the cemetery.

  It was a beautiful morning for such a sad day of closure. Not a cloud was seen in any direction. The wide Texas sky was a deep blue and only the slightest of cool, early morning breezes played in the trees. Sindecki’s Limo Service, forty-five miles away in the city, sent out twelve white stretch limousines, three each to the families of the boys, free of charge. The four sets of parents opted to meet at the parking lot of the Longhorn Ranch House restaurant, the local hotspot, prior to heading over to the school.

  At around 9 a.m., Wednesday, July 27, Monica and Jason were first to step out of their limo. There was an eerie stillness about. The schools, civic offices, and banks were all closed in respect to the families. Main Street was practically abandoned. From one end of the lane to the other, not a car was to be seen. One by one the remaining eleven limousines pulled into the parking lot. The parents and immediate members of the four families climbed out of the long, snow-white cars to greet and hug one another. Minutes later John came to Jason and tapped his watch. Time to go.

  The whole town must have been there, John thought. City, county, and state law enforcement vehicles lined the streets; their red, blue, and yellow lights flashed brilliantly, but made not a sound. Cars, busses, trucks, and vans spilled over from the school parking lot onto the baseball field. Local and state news crews were gathered under the awning of the high school main entrance, just waiting for a glimpse of the stoic families.

  The caravan of twelve limousines arrived at the school just before 10 a.m. They pulled into the rear parking lot by the emergency double exit doors leading into the back of the gymnasium. John and Joey’s limo was first to arrive at the makeshift church. Joey wearily approached the double doors and squeezed John’s hand tightly. Through the closed doors she could hear an organ softly playing “How Great Thou Art.”

  The low hum of talking stopped completely when the doors opened and Joey shakily and meekly entered. The entire multitude of respectful mourners rose and stood in motionless, silent reverence. Governor Dolph Brisco, members of his cabinet, and representatives of every law enforcement agency in the state lined the first two rows of gym risers. The sorrowful populace remained standing until all four sets of parents and their families were seated. The coffins of the four boys were lying side by side, spaced evenly out in front of the podium with their lids closed.

  Just before the ceremony began, the gymnasium doors opened once more. Tommy was wheeled through the doors and placed beside Jason at the end of the front row. His left shirt sleeve and left pant leg had been cut away to allow his casts to pass through. He wore his hat with pride and his right boot was buffed to a bright shine. Jason took his lifelong friend’s hand in his. Pastor Brock stepped up to the podium, looked over the crowd, and silently motioned for them all to be seated.

  Sarah sat next to her unconscious son, lying in bed. Tubes ran into his arms while sticky patches connected wire leads to his head and chest. The heart monitor spoke up every few seconds to let her know his heart was working fine. The ink capsules on the brain activity monitor barely moved as the graph paper scrolled by. Sarah wept silently, convulsing, as she watched the television broadcast of the funeral ceremony from Danny’s room. She felt her heart being torn in two: half of her was a loving, c
aring mother who needed to stay with her son, yet the other half yearned to be with her friends in their desperate time of need, loss, and pain.

  After an emotionally and spiritually grueling hour had passed, the services were finally over. The four sets of parents remained seated as the long train of Texas diplomats and kind townspeople passed by. Although well intended, the smiles and handshakes were futile in lightening the load of all those who suffered from the tremendous loss.

  The exiting line of cars stretched all the way down Main Street. The hearses and limousines were already unloading a mile and a half away, while back at the school, cars were still waiting just to exit the baseball field and parking lot. The news crews had left early in the hopes of getting a good spot to film the motorcade as it entered and left the small town cemetery. Though closed to the public, the cameras moved about the fence and kept rolling during the funerals.

  Pastor Cregan and Pastor Brock had a difficult time in presiding over the graveside rituals. The ceremonies, even though genuinely heartfelt and delivered sincerely, felt like a conveyor line. The children’s graves were more than fifty feet away from each other and, to make matters worse, the mid-morning sun was starting to beat down as the cool breezes subsided.

  All were gathered at Daryl’s grave for the first service, after which the Arterberry family stayed behind while the shrinking crowd walked over to the white tent for little Billy Williams’s service. Casey stood at the end of the grave as Terri read a letter out loud to her son. They, along with Casey’s parents, stayed with Billy’s casket while the small band sluggishly walked over to the awning for Bobby’s service.

  Ron tried to stay strong through Bobby’s eulogy, but Holly, sensing her husband’s tension, wrapped her arm around his shoulder. He lowered his head and unleashed a distressing wail for his lost son. Jimmy’s services were performed last. Jason and Monica, although outwardly appreciative to all who attended, seemed not mentally present. Rather, they were far, far away in their hearts with their son.

  Lynnly Ives and Sybil Pittman stood in the middle of the four small tents and, at the right time, played and sang “Softly and Tenderly.”

  Tommy sat alongside Johnny Lee next to Lynnly and Sybil as they played. Listening to the words of the song, Tommy whispered a prayer of thanks to God for sacrificing His Son Jesus Christ, for sparing the life of his own son, and for Him to please be with and comfort the souls of his eight friends. Upon hearing the words “Come home, come home, ye who are weary come home,” Tommy loosened the reins of his emotions as he watched the four small caskets being lowered into the ground.

  Dark clouds appeared on the western horizon. Sarah stroked her son’s hair.

  Suddenly, the speaker in Danny’s brain monitor pinged loudly several times. The arms holding the ink capsules sprang to life and swung in broad and brightly colored arcs from side to side…

  OCTOBER

  After the wreck, Tommy underwent surgery for his pierced lung, followed by arthroscopic surgeries for his knee, shoulder, and arm. Rehab was slow, seeing as how it was almost completely one side of him that needed the work. Dealing with her baby boy in the hospital and a full-grown baby of a husband at the house had been anything but easy for Sarah.

  For the remainder of July and the month of August, once she was finished with work, Sarah would drive to the city and stay with Tommy and Danny for the night. She’d sleep in the extra bed next to Tommy, then go back the next morning and start all over again. Once Tommy was able to start light work in mid-September, he and Sarah took turns staying with Danny.

  Tommy and Sarah were told that when the paramedics arrived at the scene of the wreck, Danny was unconscious and more than likely the recipient of blunt force trauma, whiplash, and a concussion. The car moved sideways from the force of the impact, thereby causing Danny’s head to hit the doorframe, then his body slumped over in the seat. His comatose state was due to hypoxia, meaning his brain was receiving oxygen, but at greatly reduced levels. The worried couple were dealt more bad news when they were later told that children twelve and under have the highest risk of not surviving closed cranial trauma followed by a coma.

  Every once in a while, though, Danny’s electro-cerebral activity would jump off the chart and his eyes would move wildly under the lids. His heartbeat would accelerate and his blood pressure would increase. For a few brief seconds his lips would part and his lungs would expand and contract with great intakes of air. Unfortunately, the promising signs of life would diminish just as quickly as they appeared.

  Friday afternoon, October 16, 1978. After completing physical therapy, Tommy was temporarily reassigned to assist with administrative office duties.

  “Tommy?” said April, one of two receptionists. “You got a phone call on two.”

  “Albright!” Tommy stated bluntly as he picked up the phone, distracted with his work. “Yeah. Hello, how are ya? No, no, you’re fine. How can I help ya? He what? When?” Unknowingly, he brought the entire staff to a standstill when he pulled out his chair and inadvertently knocked over a large stack of files. “Is he okay? When did this happen? Can he talk?”

  Jason and Casey approached the side of the desk to listen in on their friend’s call. Judging from his facial expression and tone, the news was not good.

  “I’m on my way. Give me…gimme forty-five minutes… Thank you.” Tommy began to cry as he hung up the phone and covered his face with his hands.

  Casey leaned over to pat his friend and inquired, “Tommy? You okay?” He didn’t answer as Casey continued. “Is it Johnny Lee? Is he okay?” Jason and Casey looked at each other and shrugged. Other eyes made contact around the room as if to ask, “What now?”

  Tommy leaned back, removed his hands from his face, and let loose with a laugh as he declared, “He woke up! Danny woke up!” Clapping, cheering, hugs, and tears filled the room as he further explained, “He’s all right! He knows who he is! He knows who Sarah is!” Ron and John walked into the celebration and joined the three men at Tommy’s desk as he elaborated. “He wants to eat! He can move! I gotta get outta here!” he suddenly realized, grabbing his keys and hat. “I’m standing here and my son’s waiting!”

  Traffic in both directions yielded to the shoulder as Tommy and his buddies flew down the highway with sirens blaring and all lights flashing. Sarah called and broke the good news to her girlfriends who immediately dropped everything to head into town, but not without first stopping for balloons and flowers. Before long, the three speeding patrol vehicles caught up to the two slower-moving cars of their wives and interspersed themselves in-between. The five vehicles of nine friends, happy and smiling, sped to the long-awaited awakening and reunion.

  Sarah stood near the bed as the neurologist and nurses continued to check Danny’s vital signs. As she monitored the care being given to her son, she faintly heard the high-pitched wailing of emergency sirens. She turned to the window and saw the motorcade coming down the street to the hospital. The cars came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room doors. From high above on the fifth floor, Sarah watched her husband and eight friends spill out of their cars with balloons, flowers, and stuffed animals. “Well,” she sighed with a shrug and a smile, “your father’s never been one to make a small entrance!”

  All activity in the ER waiting room halted as the five DPS Troopers quickly entered. Tommy was first to reach the elevators and pushed the UP button over and over, as if the repeated action of pressing the button would make the car get there any faster. “C’mon!” he said, looking at the floor numbers. “I don’t believe this! I can drive a hundred miles an hour, run red lights for a thousand miles, but I can’t get to my son ’cuz of a stupid elevator.”

  The nine parents impatiently watched the floor numbers illuminate ever so slowly.

  “I can’t wait!” Tommy admitted and turned to go up the stairs.

  “It’ll be here any second!” Ron yelled as Tommy entered the stairwell. Sure enough, just as Ron said they would, the doors to t
he elevator opened.

  Tommy attempted to run up the stairs, but after the first floor, the aching in his knee made it difficult to walk. He pushed himself through the pain and hopped primarily on his right leg up the remaining four flights. As he climbed, shedding tears of joy, he hollered out, “Danny! I’m here, son! I’m a comin’! Hoooo!” He laughed to himself as he continued celebrating. “Here I come, Superman!”

  He finally reached the fifth floor, breathless and sweating from his workout, then hobbled down the hall. Just as he entered Danny’s semi-private room, he heard the soft bell of the elevator behind him.

  He passed an older black woman, Emilie Parks, who now shared the room with Danny. Emilie arrived last week with problems related to her diabetes. She waved to Tommy as he crept by slowly, careful not to make any sounds.

  As he was coming in, a nurse was exiting and, with a gentle squeeze on his arm, informed him, “He’s in and out, but he’s doing good!” Tommy stepped out from behind the curtain separating Danny and Emilie. He was asleep for the moment with Sarah sitting at his side. Tommy approached the bed, hugged his wife, and stared in disbelief at his son. He couldn’t recall a time when his boy was more beautiful. He silently pulled the chair closer to the bed and delicately lowered the rails. Sarah’s heart raced as Tommy took his son’s hand. Danny’s eyes fluttered open, allowing the two to smile at each other.

  “How’s my Superman?” he asked tenderly.

  “Hey, Daddy,” Danny squeaked.