by Lucia Franco
It was an epic night for sure. Gotta love summer nights in a small town, John thought as they turned onto the dirt road that held so many memories for him.
John watched as Jace drove down the bumpy dirt road in front of him. It was close to midnight, the pitch black night sky set behind the moon. Jace was doing a piss poor job trying to keep on the straight and narrow path and John couldn’t help but laugh at his recklessness. He knew Jace was putting on a show driving the way he was, doing crazy eights and yelling out of the window and such. Lord, they liked to get wild in their trucks and do stupid shit.
Jace being crazy and wild was nothing new. There wasn’t anyone on the long empty road for miles but him, Alyssa, and Jace anyways.
As Jace’s truck was gaining speed, he swerved in and out of the lanes. Fuck. What the hell was Jace doing? John sat a little higher in his seat and glanced down at the speedometer. They had never gone that fast, at least not that he could remember. It was scaring the shit out of him.
“Hey Babe, grab my phone. Call Jace and tell him to take it easy, would ya?” He decided he was going to make a call instead of waiting.
“Sure thing.”
Alyssa’s blonde locks covered the side of her face as she dialed, the phone nearly slipping through her fingers when they hit a pothole. John watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear then raised the phone. Her creamy soft skin glowed from the moonlit sky as her foot bounced rapidly on his dashboard.
Glancing back to the road, he could see Jace’s silhouette lean over, probably trying to grab his phone. Jace swerved sharply in an attempt to avoid a group of bushes. He hit a pothole, pulling the truck abruptly to the right even more and nicking the shrubs and trees on the passenger side of his truck. The sound of the impact made him think of a gun going off, the pinging getting louder and louder.
Jesus Christ. John’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as a shiver ran through his body.
With wide, panic filled eyes, he watched Jace’s truck hit a small tree, then another, a domino effect moving in slow motion. Pieces from his truck flew off onto the shoulder–a broken headlight, the side mirror. From the corner of his eye, Alyssa dropped her feet to sit up higher. She drew in an audible breath and leaned forward, blindly reaching for John and squeezing his forearm. The horror in her grip mirrored his. Tires screeched as a cloud of dirt puffed up behind the truck and rocks went flying.
Jace continued to fishtail, causing him to pull hard to the right where his truck caught a large bush, ripping the front bumper off. Was he pressing on the accelerator? Did he not know not to do that? It looked as if he was going faster when he needed to be slowing down.
“Oh my God,” John heard Alyssa whisper before Jace’s truck teetered on its side.
“Fuck.” Jace had lost complete control. Glancing ahead, he spotted an old tree that stood out on the shoulder.
Right in the path of Jace’s truck.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Nooooooo!”
Time slowed, John’s mouth parted in shock as Jace’s truck collided head on with the tree. The screeching tires on the dirt road, the smell of burning rubber, and hearing metal crunching nearly stopped John’s heart. The impact was deafening, and the crunching metal caused John to draw in a loud breath, air filling his lungs to the brink of pain as Jace’s truck came to a stop, wrapped around a motherfucking tree.
John couldn’t breathe. Even in the dark he could see the underlining of the truck and how it bent at an unnatural shape.
Pulling to a halt, John threw the gearshift in park. He switched on his high beams for light and flung the door opened running full speed to his best friend, screaming behind him, “Alyssa! Call an ambulance!” Smoke began to flow out from under the hood and his stomach curled at the sudden thoughts running through his head. He needed to get Jace out immediately.
“Johnny!”
Glancing over his shoulder, John saw Alyssa climb out of the cab. Mother fuck. She was running for him.
“Get your ass back in the truck, Alyssa!” he yelled at her.
Who was he supposed to save if something happened and the wreck caught fire, he thought as Alyssa was gunning for him. His girl? Or his boy?
Running around to the driver’s side, the windshield was cracked into a million tiny pieces and covered in blood. John needed to think quickly.
A few steps to the right and he was looking through the back cab of the truck window.
Jesus Christ.
If John wasn’t trying to save his best friend’s life, he would have vomited all over the place at the sight before him. His stomach rolled tighter. No one could see their friend like this and not be affected. Blood covered the shattered windshield and the front of the truck was crushed like a soda can. Peering through the window, Jace’s head was sandwiched between the door and the steering wheel, his body hunched over and his eyes closed as he lay against the driver’s side door, unconscious.
“Jace! Jace! Can you hear me?!” John yelled, running to the other side. “Fuck man! Open your eyes! Jace!”
Yanking the door open, Jace’s torso fell out of the truck, his head rolling onto John’s arm as he caught him. Lifeless. He gave a little shake, and in an effort to wake him up yelled, “Jace!” Shards of glass were sprinkled on him and slipping onto the grass. He reached in to pull Jace out, but he was stuck. He could hear Alyssa’s frantic screams in the background and he prayed she would not come any closer. He didn’t want her to see Jace like this.
Reaching down, John laced his arms under Jace’s laden, blood soaked body and lifted him. Something sharp dug into his forearm, but it didn’t register in his mind as he tried to rescue his friend. A few more tugs but he was going nowhere. Jace was stuck, and not only that, he was dead weight. Reaching in further, he tugged on his belt loops for leverage to pull him out.
“Come on, buddy … I sure could use some help right now,” he muttered as a tear threatened to roll down his cheek. He stepped closer and a piece of metal dug into his shin.
Nothing came from Jace. Not a grunt or groan or even a huff of air.
With everything he had, every last inch of willpower, John struggled to breathe as he tried desperately to pull Jace out of the smoking truck.
“Fuck,” he murmured. “This isn’t going to end like this, bro. Please … fuckin’ help me get you out.”
Gently he eased Jace down back on to the seat, and as he did, Alyssa appeared.
“Alyssa, get the fuck outta here!” He wasn’t trying to hurt her, but he couldn’t stand the thought of one piece of hair on her head being injured.
“No,” she screamed with purpose. “Let me help!”
“I can’t let anything happen to you, now go!”
“I’m not leaving, Johnny. You might as well tell me what to do because we’re running out of time.” John could see the steel determination in her eyes and he loved her for it. “He’s my friend, too,” her voice shook as her jaw quivered.
He nodded. “I’m going to lift Jace under his arms, and when I do, reach down and try to pull his legs out. I think they’re stuck under the dash. On my count. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Three … two … one,” he grunted, and pulled Jace with every ounce of fiber in him.
Nothing.
“Grab his foot,” he grunted. Alyssa’s hands shook as she struggled to get his legs out. She could feel glass grinding into her knees and blood trickle down her leg as she tried to get a better angle. Her mouth dropped in astonishment. No wonder John couldn’t get him out, his legs were pinned between the foot pedals.
“His legs are crushed!” she cried.
“Obviously! Just get them out!”
Twisting his leg to the left and right, Alyssa grabbed the denim and yanked, trying to shimmy him out. Another tug, a pull to the left, a tug and a pull to the right and Jace’s limp body was finally released.
Hooking an arm under Jace’s knees and one under his neck, John stumbled in the grass with the one hundr
ed and eighty pound body in his arms, but he didn’t let go. Alyssa helped as he gently laid Jace on a clear patch of grass in front of John’s truck.
In the distance, red lights flickered and sirens screamed, but they didn’t register. John stared down at the bloody face that was his best friend.
John cupped the sides of his neck as he desperately searched for a pulse. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it in half. He watched for the telltale sign of a breathing chest, but he was too frantic to spot it. And as much as his headlights were helping him, they were also blinding him.
“Save him, Johnny,” Alyssa cried in agony.
“I’m tryin’, honey.”
Pinching Jace’s nose and tilting his jaw up, John breathed into his friend’s mouth. “Come on, Jace. Come back to us. I need you,” he said as he layered his hands together and started pressing up and down under his breastbone, feeling his ribs crunching under the necessary force.
Nothing.
“Come on, Jace. Wake up!” he yelled a little louder this time.
Two heavy gulps of air and thirty hand compressions.
Nothing.
“Fuck man,” his voice began to crack, his eyes teared up. “Wake the fuck up and open your damn eyes. Please!”
Two more heavy gulps of air and another set of hand compressions.
Nothing.
“Look at me! Wake up, Jace!” he yelled in anguish. “Don’t go out like this!” John began shaking Jace in an effort to wake him up any way he could. He yelled and screamed, pulling him, anything for him to open his eyes.
“Move back!” the paramedic ordered. But John was in complete shock and couldn’t move as he watched his friend’s unresponsive body on the grass. Someone cupped their hands under his armpits and yanked him back.
The fuck …
Alyssa. She was the one who shuffled him back. Looking over, the poor girl was hunched over and on her knees. Alyssa was crying into her lap, her back vibrating with each wale. She peeked up and his heart broke for her.
“Alyssa …” his voice cracked. Alyssa crashed into him and held on for dear life, squeezing his neck tightly.
John sat back, legs spread on the grass and covered in Jace’s blood as the paramedic tried frantically to resituate Jace. He held on to Alyssa as life passed before his eyes. Mud fights, bonfires, family gatherings, Christmas parties, endless nights of laughter, girls, girls, and more girls. It all played in his mind like a giant blurry movie.
He and Jace in second grade on the playground.
Their mothers forcing them to join Cub Scouts, learning CPR basics but never thinking he’d have to use it on his best friend.
Food fights in the cafeteria.
Getting purposely kicked out of Cub Scouts.
Sleepovers.
Them entering sixth grade, thinking they were all hot and shit and meeting Ford.
Entering high school together … fresh meat.
Sneaking out of the house.
Freshman pep rally. Cheerleaders. All the girls …
Prom.
High school graduation.
College.
Too many events passed before his eyes, so many memories that he could not sort out. It had always been the three of them. They had been like brothers they were so close.
While the paramedics tried to work their magic, John knew he was at fault for Jace’s accident. Had he not had Alyssa call him, they would be at his house by now.
Pulling Alyssa’s face back, he kissed her tears away. She was hurting just as much as he was.
Hospitals are always such frigidly, sad places. The happy pictures mounted on the walls, with lake side images, representing happy days full of sunshine and fun were nothing but a lie. Cold, leather blue chairs, connected at the legs, took up most of the space in the waiting room. A muted television hung in the corner, subtitles running across the lower screen. Fake smiles dazzled the nurses’ faces when they made eye contact, but he could see right through them. It was such a deceiving environment that it made his skin itch.
Next to him sat Alyssa. She was his rock tonight. His girl. She stood strong while he was suffering inside.
Alyssa squeezed his hand giving him support, but John didn’t have the strength to squeeze it back. He was utterly empty inside.
Alone.
Vacant.
Not a feeling left to give.
No one in the hospital could possibly be thinking of days with endless sun. Not a chance. And if they were, they were flat out liars. In reality, their moments were full of gray clouded skies with unknown answers swirling in the air. Misery. Open ended questions. No one knew what lay beyond those walls. Seconds ticked by, turning to minutes, turning to hours.
Time passed them by.
A quick glance down at the phone and that’s all it took for his world to change.
If he blinked his eyes, it would have been over. And thinking back on it, he wished he had because the images replaying in his head would forever be seared into his brain. He’d do anything to erase them.
How did this happen?
Letting go of her hand, John bent foward. His elbows rested on his knees while his hands cupped his face. He prayed. Begged for a miracle. John bartered to cut his own life short if it meant Jace got to live. Please, dear God, let Jace be okay.
As if God was listening, a doctor in blue scrubs strode forward. Specs of blood coated his uniform, and he looked absolutely exhausted.
Ice cold dread filled John’s veins. Shaking off the goose bumps that coated his skin, John stood.
“Evening son. I’m Dr. Ortega. Are you the ones that were with Jace McConnell tonight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you family?”
“Not by blood, but he’s like a brother to me.”
His eyes skated around the room. “Are his parents here tonight?”
“His mom is on her way. We don’t live in town, but she should be here very soon. Is Jace going to be okay?”
The doctor rolled his lips between his teeth, flattening them. His gaze wavered to the floor. “I’m sorry, but I must speak with his mother first.”
“Just tell me this, is he alive?”
Sympathy weighed heavily in his tired eyes and John feared the worst. Jace was no longer alive. He knew out on the street that Jace was gone, but seeing it in the doctor’s eyes confirmed it. The waiting room grew small, his vision turning into a long narrow tunnel. John began breathing heavily, emotions rolling up and taking over. No … this can’t be happening …
Tears welled in his eyes. This can’t be happening.
The sound of sliding doors drew John’s attention. Jace’s mother, Maryanne, rushed toward him, her eyes wide and frantic.
“John! Have you heard anything?”
John shook his head. “No. The doctor won’t tell me anything because I’m not related by blood.”
“Nonsense!”
“Ma’am. I’m Dr. Ortega. I’m one of the doctors who assisted tonight.”
“How is he?”
“How about we take a seat somewhere private?”
John wrapped a strong arm around Maryanne. She was crumbling before the doctor had hardly spoken a word. “Just give me something,” she began shaking her head hysterically.
Dr. Ortega turned around and began proceeding to his office forcing them to follow him. “Follow me to my office, please.”
John glanced over his shoulder to where Alyssa was sitting. She wiped her red-rimmed eyes. Her cheeks were pink and her nose swollen from crying. He wanted to hold her and wipe away her tears. He needed her as much as she needed him, but right now Maryanne was his top concern. With a small nod of his head and a tight lipped frown, he followed the doctor.
Dr. Ortega opened the door and once inside, he handed Maryanne a few tissues. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. He looked to the ground, grief written all over his face. He didn’t have to say a word. It was written in his eyes.
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br /> “Nooooo …” she wailed, falling into John’s chest. Her cry was pure agony, splitting right through John. He felt her pain, her loss, her suffering. Maryanne’s emotions poured out of her as her sobs grew louder. She could hardly catch her breath as she clung to John’s bloody t-shirt. Jace had been her only child, and his best friend. Listening to his best friend’s mother cry her heart out brought tears to his own eyes. Tears he fought to keep in but wouldn’t let out. He had to be strong for her.
Jace was gone.
Dead.
A life cut short. All because they got a little too reckless one night.
They thought they were on top of the world, kings that no one could touch in their small town. Little did they know, they were just pawns in the grand scheme of things because when death came knocking, it didn’t matter who you were or what you did, death took who it wanted. When it was your time to go, that was it. You could fight it all you want, but you don’t have a choice. They say only the good die young, and it was true. Jace was one of the good ones–a great friend and the perfect son for his mother who struggled. But he didn’t have a leg to stand on when his truck wrapped around that tree. He probably died instantly.
“Mrs. McConnell …”
“What …” she choked, gasping for air. “Please. Tell me what happened. I want to know it all.” She begged, her voice shaky.
Clearing his throat, Dr. Ortega nodded. “Alright. This is never easy to do. As much as I love my job, times like these are when I wish I had chosen another career. When Jace was brought in, he was covered in blood. So much that we didn’t know where it was coming from. His pulse was low, he was hardly breathing. After running diagnostic tests, we were able to tell that the blood was coming from multiple places in his body, one being his chest, the other his brain. He must have banged it on the windshield, but the EMT wasn’t sure since Jace was unconscious.”
“The windshield was cracked when I got to him,” John said quietly.
Dr. Ortega nodded slowly. “Thought so. With his head injury, we assumed he wasn’t wearing a seat belt.”
John looked at the ground. “He wasn’t.”
The doctor took a deep breath. “With that being said, Jace had quite a few surgeries in a short amount of time. He had a tear in his liver and one in a valve to his heart. We were able to repair both and those should heal just fine. By some God given miracle, he’s breathing and in recovery.”