Something Like Lightning

by Jay Bell

  “That’s why we shouldn’t be together!” William snarled. “Something’s wrong!”

  Kelly narrowed his eyes. “You will never, ever, be in a relationship where you don’t argue. Not that it matters. Where you’re going, you’ll never date again.”

  William glared at him. “And why’s that?”

  “You know why.”

  “Say it,” William said, lips pulled back. “Say it one more time. I fucking dare you, because if you do, it’ll be the last time I listen to your crap.”

  Kelly knew this was one challenge he shouldn’t accept, but he was hurt and it was all over anyway and he wanted to make William cry so he wouldn’t have to. “Once you’re in the Coast Guard, it’s back in the closet or your superiors will disown you. You’ll live your pathetic robot life, sleeping on a cold bunk every night, sneaking off to a cruise park occasionally to suck—”

  The car jerked suddenly, Kelly’s body along with it. His voice cut off as the seatbelt squeezed painfully hard against his chest, the sound of screeching tires replacing his shouting as the vehicle spun. His insides felt as if they were doing horizontal cartwheels, like they had somehow driven into a centrifuge and gravity was trying to tear them apart. Then the car finally stopped. Kelly glanced over at his former boyfriend, saw his face twisted up with rage, and knew William was right. All this anger inside of him, all these battles he waged against the world, only made things worse. Not just situations, but people. He was ruining one of the best people he’d ever met.

  “William—” he said.

  More screeching tires, which was odd, since they weren’t in motion anymore. Then a blast of impossible force. Shredding metal, splintering plastic, shattering glass, exploding air bags, and blinding light. Then a comparative silence. Just the pitter-patter of falling rain, the drops wet and cold on Kelly’s cheek.

  He tried to make sense of the world. He was still inside the car. Still seated, but leaning with his head outside the window, which was odd, since he hadn’t rolled it down.

  “Are you okay?”

  He tried to move his neck, finding it stiff, but he managed an inch or two, allowing him to look into headlights. Squinting against them, he saw up-close the damaged grill of something massive, like a metallic dinosaur. A version of Godzilla constructed by the auto industry.

  “Kelly!”

  He sucked in air, the sound squeaky and shuddering. The rain was getting in his eyes. He needed to pull himself back inside the car to see if William was okay, because his brain was starting to catch up. They had been in a wreck. He struggled to put the pieces together, which was nothing compared to the effort it took to move.

  “Stay still, stay still! Oh God! Where’s my phone?”

  William sounded frantic. Was he hurt? Wanting to check on him, Kelly grunted, pushing against the car interior with one arm, and managing to get himself upright. The cost of this was a throbbing ache, but he tried to ignore it as he turned. William’s face was covered with blood, his eyes wide as he stared at Kelly. For some reason he was looking down and making little noises, single guttural syllables that didn’t have meaning. Kelly gave up trying to understand, then followed his gaze. William reached out for his chin, as if to stop him, but it was too late. Kelly saw the truth.

  He wasn’t inside the car. The car was inside of him.

  Or both, because flesh and metal and blood and plastic were all mixed together. He couldn’t tell if shreds of cloth belonged to the clothing he wore or were remnants of the seat cover fabric. Discerning by color didn’t help, since everything was drenched in wet sticky maroon. Kelly took in all of this, his brain registering one sensation above all others. Pain. It filled him, rising up from inside, forcing his head back and his mouth open. Then it poured out of him, manifesting as a scream. Like steam coming out of a kettle, it was the only way to release pressure. Eventually even this wasn’t enough. The last he heard were shrill sirens and William pleading with him to “stay with me, stay with me, stay with me” before mercy came in the form of soft silent darkness.

  The world approached and retreated in waves. Sometimes when Kelly opened his eyes, the pain was there waiting for him, along with people he didn’t recognize. In these moments, all he had to do was close his eyes again. Other times the world was fuzzy and pink, as if he’d been wrapped in cotton candy. The pain would be gone and faces would fill his vision, all of them smiling to let him know it was all right. His mother, his father, even Royal, who didn’t smile as much as he cried. Kelly kept listening to their message, repeating it when he could manage. “It’s okay. I’m all right.”

  This was his world now. Pain he recoiled from, or moments of fluffy bliss that he tried to stay awake for. The more he opened his eyes, the more he understood. The strangers were doctors and nurses, the uninspiring backdrop a hospital. The expressions of his family eventually shifted, becoming less tearful and more determined. Only when a new face appeared, like Layne’s, did the crying start again. Then Kelly would squeeze their hands and tell them what they needed to know. He was okay.

  Eventually the worlds of pain and bliss melded and met somewhere in the middle. When he opened his eyes, he felt a distant ache and the buzz that kept it at bay, but Kelly no longer found it so hard to think. He was able to stay awake this time, and he remained still while doing so, staring at the ceiling.

  The car accident. He replayed the memories, trying to arrange jumbled impressions into a coherent event. When he finally managed, he closed his eyes again, remembering how his lower body had been indistinguishable from the rest of the wreck. He slowly took stock of himself. The drugs numbing him made it difficult, but he could feel his arms, his torso, an unpleasant prickling sensation in his crotch, and both of his legs. Everything was still there. He was fine.

  Except that his right leg was dangling over the mattress. That didn’t make sense because Kelly could feel that he was on the bed correctly and not resting at an angle. The rails ensured he was. He even opened his eyes to confirm this. His legs were straight, one bent at the knee. So his lower leg was dangling through the mattress? Did they have a hole cut into it for some reason?

  “Honey! You’re awake again. Are you thirsty?”

  His mother came into view. She placed a palm on his forehead as if to feel his temperature. He nodded, trying to sit upright.

  “Hold on,” she said.

  An electric whir accompanied half the bed rising until Kelly was sitting up. He glanced around the hospital room, feeling dizzy and trying to focus on the straw his mother was aiming toward his mouth. Once he caught it, he sucked, tasting cold water.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, setting aside the cup.

  He nodded.

  “Maybe I should call the doctor.”

  “I’m okay,” he said quickly. “No need to make a fuss.”

  “You look good,” she said, studying his face. “Your eyes are clear.” He nodded again, resisting the urge to close them.

  “Do you remember—”

  “Where’s William?” he interrupted.

  Laisha’s lips tightened. “He’s gone home.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, honey.” His mother pressed her hand to his cheek. “Do you remember the accident?”

  He nodded.

  “And afterwards?”

  The question confused him, since this was afterwards. She acted like there had been more. Perhaps there had been. “How long have I been here?”

  “Almost a week. How much do you remember?”

  She kept asking him that, making him wonder if he had suffered a brain injury. “Is something wrong with my head?”

  “No!” His mother’s face nearly crumpled, but she was strong enough to force it into a smile. “We came close to losing you, honey. The doctors saved your life. It means so much that you’re still here with us. I love you. Your father and brother love you.”

  “I love you guys too,” Kelly mumbled.

  She smiled while looking him over, her h
and still on his cheek. Her eyes were welling up, and while much of this came from affection, he also recognized something was wrong. Something serious.

  “Mom?” he asked, the panic escaping into his voice.

  “You’re okay, baby. But you were hurt pretty bad and they couldn’t save all of you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His mother kissed him on the forehead, once, twice, and a third time. Then she looked into his eyes, her own wet with tears. “They had to take one of your legs.”

  Kelly glanced down at himself, wondering at first if this was all some cruel joke, because covered in blankets, everything looked normal. Except at the very end of the bed, where there should be two little mountains formed by his feet, he saw only one. But there was a reason why. He could feel that leg dangling over the edge, or through the mattress, or whatever.

  He didn’t hesitate. He pulled back the blankets, wanting to see the truth. A hospital robe and a tube sticking out near his crotch. The discomfort of that was overshadowed by his struggle to get the sheets off completely. He could see both thighs. That was fine. Maybe he had only lost a foot or—

  “Honey, try to relax.”

  “I want to see,” Kelly said, getting worked up. “Just help me! Please!”

  His mother eyed him a moment. Then she moved to the end of the bed and helped pull down the sheets the rest of the way. Where Kelly’s right knee should be was a bundle of bandages. Beyond it, nothing.

  Kelly pushed the button on the remote control, over and over again. On the television screen, the picture changed every two seconds. He didn’t really see the images, didn’t care when his brother complained or his father asked if he needed anything. He simply stared unseeing at the television mounted on the hospital wall, because it was the only thing he had power over.

  He was used to fighting. Kelly could do anything if he put his mind to it. Determination, hard work, and above all, no compromises. When he decided that victory was the only acceptable outcome, he made it happen. Grades, relationships, his athletic career—everything was within grasp as long as he tried his best. His mind kept telling him now that he should fight, that he should do anything and everything to fix this. And yet there was nothing to be done. His leg was gone, leaving him helpless. Powerless. Crippled.

  “Kelly,” his father said, placing a hand over his. And the remote. “Let’s just leave it off. For now.”

  Kelly changed the channel a few more times. Then he shut off the TV and glanced around. He hated this room, hated the hospital. He wanted out of here. Now. But even if he threw a fit and hopped out of bed, he couldn’t walk out of the room and run down the hall. He couldn’t go anywhere anymore. Not without help. Speaking of which, his back was killing him. He wanted to roll over onto his side, but even that was difficult. His physical therapist was teaching him how to move again. Half a leg gone, and his balance was thrown completely off. Even the smallest task now took herculean effort. Still, at least the catheter was gone. What happened in the restroom was now private again.

  He reached for the television remote, missing his cell phone. Another casualty of the wreck. No right leg, no phone, and no... Kelly swallowed. Over the past few days, the details had come back to him, and the words leading up to it. He didn’t know where William was. That he had already been discharged from the hospital was all his mother would say. Then she would start rambling on about legal action, which seemed ridiculous to Kelly. William didn’t have any money. What would they take from him as compensation? His toys? Kelly tried talking sense into her, but the mere mention of William’s name caused her mouth to tighten and her eyes to narrow.

  Sort of like the face she was wearing now. Laisha walked into the room, appearing flustered. “Honey, you’re not in the mood for visitors, are you? I didn’t think so. I told him that you needed—”

  “Who?” Kelly asked, trying to sit upright. “Tell me.”

  His mother shook her head. “I bumped into William downstairs. He was asking the reception desk for your room number, but you’re in no condition for visitors.”

  Kelly gestured to them. “You guys aren’t visitors? Is he coming up here?”

  “I told him you didn’t want to see him.”

  “Mom!”

  “Don’t tell me you want to! After what he did?”

  A soft series of raps interrupted them, four heads turning at once to the figure in the doorway. William stood there, withering under their gazes. He had a bandage across his forehead, and one of his cheeks was dark with bruising, but aside from that he looked okay.

  “How’d you get here?” Royal said with venom. “Don’t tell me you drove.”

  “I took my bike,” William said sheepishly.

  “They shouldn’t even allow that,” Royal spat. “They should cut off your legs so you’ll never drive, bike, or walk again. See how you like it!”

  Kelly waited for his little brother to be reprimanded, but his parents seemed content to sit and give William the evil eye. Kelly sighed. “I’d like to be alone,” he said.

  His mother looked vindicated. “I told you he wouldn’t want visitors.”

  “I mean,” Kelly said, fighting against the drugs in his system to muster some anger, “that I want to be alone with William. We need to talk.”

  “Son—” his father began.

  “Now!” Kelly snapped, and it felt good. For the first time since he’d woken up completely, he didn’t feel helpless. Not entirely. He watched with satisfaction as his family shuffled out of the room. It also gave him something to focus on besides William, because Kelly was scared he was about to be hurt all over again.

  As soon as they were gone, William came and stood at his bedside. His eyes kept flicking down to where Kelly’s leg was—or where it should have been. Then his face crumpled and he started crying.

  “I’m sorry,” William sobbed. “I wish I could undo it all. I wish I could give you your leg back and make everything okay somehow, but I fucked up. I ruined everything, and I don’t know how to make it right.”

  Kelly watched as he cried, almost feeling bemused when William’s grief brought him to his knees at his bedside. Maybe it was the drugs numbing Kelly and preventing him from crying too. He wasn’t entirely indifferent though, because it felt good to see William again. That he was here and still cared... For this one small moment, Kelly could pretend they would make amends.

  But that wasn’t reality. William wouldn’t want him anymore. Nobody would. Kelly was a cripple. A wheelchair awaited him, followed by crutches once his wounds had healed enough. Eventually he might get a prosthetic leg, but this would only obscure the truth. Even if he looked normal to the casual observer, in any relationship a time would come when the clothes came off. He couldn’t expect anyone to find him attractive then. Not when they saw his stump. This was a fact he had already accepted, and not even the drugs could stave off the resulting sorrow.

  “I just hope you still want me.”

  The words could have been Kelly’s, but they weren’t. He didn’t hide his puzzlement as William reached out and took his hand, but he did force the hope rising inside of him back down. “What?” he managed.

  “I did it on purpose, Kelly. In the car. I got so mad at you and I—” William’s voice faltered, ending with a croak.

  Kelly’s emotions pulled back defensively. “What do you mean on purpose?”

  “I jerked the wheel,” William said. “I meant for us to pull over, but I also wanted to scare you, so I jerked the wheel and hit the breaks. With the rain and everything I didn’t realize— I never wanted us to get in an accident. But I did want to—”

  “—shut me up,” Kelly said. “Apparently it takes more than a car wreck to do that.”

  William didn’t laugh. He only seemed more miserable. “I didn’t know this would happen. I never meant to hurt you. If I could take it all back or give you my leg or anything, I would. I swear! ”

  “I know that,” Kelly said, placing a hand on his head and
stroking his hair. Maybe it was the morphine or perhaps it was a testament to love, but he didn’t hold the accident against William. Even in their darkest moments together, Kelly had never felt that William wanted to physically harm him. Or anyone else, for that matter.

  “I’m going to keep my promise,” William said, clenching his jaw.

  “What promise?”

  “In the ICU,” William said. “After the accident. You don’t remember?”

  Kelly looked into eyes hard with determination and shook his head.

  “You kept reaching for me. You kept asking me to stay with you.”

  Now Kelly’s chest grew tight. “And what did you say?”

  “I promised.” William steeled himself. “I’ll never leave you, Kelly. Not if you still want me.”

  Now Kelly cried, but they were tears of relief. He used all his strength to tug on William’s hand until he stood and leaned over the bed. Then Kelly wrapped both arms around him, pulling their bodies close. Cheeks wet, he nestled his head against William’s neck, breathed in his scent, and murmured his own promise.

  “Of course I still want you. I always will.”

  Part Two:

  Austin, 2008

  Chapter Ten

  I am the butcher of the wind. My arms cut through it, increasing my speed. I can feel the air coursing over me, see it in my mind’s eye as silvery airstreams flowing around every curve, every flexing muscle. I am the very essence of speed, and still it isn’t enough for me. My shoes hit the earth over and over again, like a giant spinning the globe beneath his feet. I am running, and I am untouchable.

  Kelly awoke with a start, arriving in a world almost as surreal as the one he’d just left. He was in the downstairs master bedroom, except the heavy oak dressers and widescreen television belonging to his parents had been taken away, replaced by his desk and computer. The sleeping form next to him wasn’t his father—thank goodness—but William. The nightstand once typically held a portable Nintendo or a classic car magazine, but now a red helicopter robot stood guard over a pair of swimming goggles.