Sensing Serafina

by Elisa Ellis

  “So are there things you were able to do before the accident that you can’t do now? Obviously walking has been a struggle.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think I will be able to walk without a limp, which is embarrassing, not to mention uncomfortable. My legs hurt sometimes, and my knee hurts most of the time, especially in the mornings when I get up and at night when I’ve been on it all day. I didn’t get to graduate with my class. The school sent me a diploma in the mail. I haven’t seen my friends in forever. I haven’t done anything since the accident except stupid rehab and basic recovery. It has sucked so badly.”

  “Do you know if Cal had insurance, Sera? Or if he has had any other accidents in the past?”

  “I’m not sure if he had insurance, but I assume he did. And I don’t know for sure about any other wrecks, but he never mentioned any and his motorcycle seemed in good condition,” I answer him. “I feel like I’m not much help. I just don’t remember that much about that day. All I can say is that Cal is a good person, and he would have never done anything to put me in danger. Besides, Dad told me that the police report showed it to be the other man’s fault.”

  “We will get copies of the police report and anything else we need for the case, but, if this goes to trial, we will need to know everything we can about both you and Cal. We want to be prepared for anything.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

  After making a few more notes, Mr. Cole removes his glasses and looks up at my dad and me.

  “Well, I think this is a good start. Is there anything else you can think of that I need to know?”

  Shaking my head, I answer. “No.”

  Dad stands to his feet, seemingly unsatisfied with Mr. Cole’s reaction to Cal and his involvement. Ready to leave, he says, “I think that covers it for now. I will meet with you again soon, Davis,” shaking Mr. Cole’s hand.

  Now

  True to his word, Dad arrives to pick me up having so generously given me a whole night to wrap my life up here.

  I answer the door at five minutes after noon, ready to stand my ground, but still feeling nervous because I hate any type of confrontation.

  Last night, Mandy and I talked after Cal went home. She told me to fake it until I make it when I told her how scared I was. “You are old enough to be on your own, Sera. It’s not like you are a 16-year-old runaway. Don’t let him control you anymore. It sounds like he needs to get his priorities straight and go be with his wife. Either way, don’t stress. I can be here if you want me to. I’ve never called in sick so I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” she told me.

  “It’s ok. I can handle it. I think it will be best for me to be alone. I even told Cal that. As much as I wish he could be here, I know it will be better for him to wait until Dad is gone. I just hope he will leave and not freak out on me too much,” I answered her.

  Dad stands at the doorway looking like he’s ready for a fight if necessary, his lips thin with an agitated expression.

  “Come in,” I say, gesturing for him to enter with my hand. “Have a seat. Want anything to drink?” I ask, stalling.

  “I’m fine, thank you. Are you all packed up?” He asks, looking around the room for the suitcases he expects to see.

  “No,” I say kind of quietly while sitting opposite him on the couch, my foot tucked under me. My t-shirt, shorts, and bare feet don’t exactly speak travel apparel, at least in my father’s upscale world, so I would assume he should be connecting the dots fairly quickly.

  “What do you mean, ‘no,’ Sera?” he asks, sighing.

  “I mean, I’m not going with you, Dad. I told you that I’ve built my life here. Things are good for me here, Dad. And Cal is here. We are together. I’m sorry if you don’t like that, but it’s the way it is. I’m 19, Dad, old enough to be on my own, and I promise I’m doing a good job.”

  “Sera, it’s not about you doing a good job. There’s no reason for you to be on your own. You need to live at home a little longer, go to college. Then, maybe, you will be ready to live on your own. You will have more time to heal and also more time to mature.”

  “I am mature, Dad,” I say, feeling irritated.

  “You’re 19, Sera. You have no idea what this world is like. No idea. The fact that you are arguing with me about your maturity proves that. It’s not easy to be a grown up; you really don’t need to rush it.”

  “Ok. Well, I guess I’ll learn as I go then. Plus, I have Cal to help me.” I try to reason with him.

  Dad grunts at the mention of Cal again. “Cal will hardly be of help to you, Sera. For one, he’s not mature either. Two, it was his fault that you were hurt. I don’t care whose fault the accident was. You should have never been on that bike with him. Hell, Sera, you shouldn’t have been with him anyway. We talked about that. You knew how I felt about him,” Dad says.

  And it’s my turn to grunt in frustration. “Dad,” I say, raising my voice, “I’m sorry, ok? I’m freaking sorry I was with him without your blessing,” I say, not even sure I really mean it. “But I couldn’t let you dictate my life, Dad. I love him. I really, really, really love him. And I’m not leaving.” I say, ending my rant.

  A long pause creates the loudest silence ever, extending past this room, past this day, and into my future.

  It’s a little unnerving, so I can’t help but speak, the need to fill in the gaps pressing.

  “Dad, I spoke with Mr. Cole a couple of weeks ago.”

  “You spoke with Davis without me? Why, Sera? I thought you wanted my help in handling the case,” he says, surprised.

  “Because, when I got in touch with Cal, I told him about Mr. Cole. I asked him if he has a case, too, and he said that his mom had been trying to get him to talk to a lawyer but that he wasn’t sure it was worth it. I told him that Mr. Cole is nice and helpful, and that I would be happy to go with him if he wanted to speak with him.”

  “So Cal went with you?”

  “Yes. Actually, Mr. Cole met us here at a law office downtown. Cal’s mom was there, too.”

  The expression on my father’s face falls. I have to fight my natural reaction to comfort him so that I can maintain my strength. I will not go with him no matter what.

  I continue, “Dad, it’s ok. It was a good meeting. Cal is going to join our case, and Mr. Cole thinks that will actually make it stronger. He’s even doing it on contingency for Cal since he believes this is a good case and a definite win. He set up a deposition for next week, here at that same office. You are welcome to come if you want to. Ok?”

  Shrugging in defeat, Dad is noncommittal. “We’ll see. I’m not happy about this, Sera. I don’t want you making any decisions without me. Do you understand me? I’m leaving, but I’m not giving up. I still expect you to do what’s right. I just hope you are mature enough to recognize it.” He stands to leave. “I’ll let myself out.”

  I don’t even say goodbye. As soon as the door closes, I say out loud, “Whatever, Dad. I’ll freaking show you mature.” I yell and hit the couch cushion beside me, anger winding through me like wildfire.

  “It’s ok, Cal. We’ll do this together. I’m nervous, too, but the accident wasn’t our fault, so I’m sure there is nothing they can say that will hurt us. Ok?”

  Nodding back to me, Cal and I walk arm in arm into the law office where the deposition is to be held. I walk on Cal’s right side, Luke on his left. He’s had Luke with him more often recently. He said he didn’t want to rely on anyone, even me, to help him, and that he still needs to get used to walking with Luke in unfamiliar places.

  I had only met Cal’s mom once before when we met with Mr. Cole, so it’s nice to see her again. Her brown wavy hair hangs a little too long over her eyes, but she pushes it back causing a curtain-look down the middle as each side drapes carefully across her forehead before falling down around her ears. Her thin frame and worn face reveal a hard life, but the laugh lines around her eyes also reflect contentment and happiness, especially when she is next to Cal. She seems extremely nice,
having encouraged both of us before sitting in a chair pulled back from the table a little, as if to give us space.

  Mr. Cole is already in the room, as is another attorney, presumably representing the defendant, who is not present.

  A court reporter sits at the end of the table with a recording device and some sort of machine on which she can quickly type everything that is said, and a videographer stands in one corner setting up equipment.

  After making acquaintances, Cal and I sit quietly in the chairs opposite the attorneys and wait quietly for the deposition to begin.

  The defense attorney, Jim Witt, asks, “We’re starting with Cal, right?” looking between Mr. Cole and Cal and me. Nodding our heads, Mr. Cole confirms. “Ok, let’s get started,” motioning to the videographer and the court reporter.

  The court reporter is first to speak. “Mr. Stevens, raise your right hand,” she says to Cal. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do,” Cal states.

  Mr. Witt asks, “Will you please state your name for the record?”

  “Cal Stevens.”

  “May I call you Cal?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My name is Jim Witt, and I represent Lancaster Plumbing and their employee who was driving the truck that was involved in this accident. Do you understand who I am and what my role is here?”

  “Yes, sir,” Cal answers again.

  “Have you ever given a deposition before?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, I’d like to go over just a few ground rules. Are you aware that your testimony here is given under oath and it’s subject to perjury just the same as if you were testifying in court before a judge and a jury?”

  “Ok.”

  “Be sure to answer audibly so the court reporter can take it down. Try to wait until I finish asking my question before you answer so that we aren’t talking over each other. If I ask any question that you don’t understand, please ask me to rephrase it. If you need a break at any time, just let me know.”

  Finished with the rules, he places his hands together on top of his notepad, prepared. “Alright, let’s go ahead and get started. Tell me about where you were born and raised as well as your educational background,” Mr. Witt says.

  Before Cal can answer, my dad steps into the room and takes a seat near Cal’s mom. Mr. Cole speaks to my father, “Come on in, Henry. Have a seat. We’re just getting started.”

  Cal takes a deep breath and begins. “I was born in Santa Fe, New Mexico, but my Mother moved us here shortly after that when I was one year old to be near my grandfather who ended up passing away with cancer a year later. We’ve been here ever since, living in various duplexes and apartments. I attended Cresthaven Elementary, Wilkerson Middle School, and Lincoln High. I graduated last May, at least on paper, since the wreck happened a couple of weeks before.”

  “I understand that was your motorcycle. How long had you had it?”

  “Well, I was able to get a job at Frank’s automotive when I was only 14, just doing odd jobs, so I saved money. When I turned 16, after I got my driver’s license, I bought a cheap junker car from my boss. I saved up for a couple more years; so, when I was 18, I traded in my car and paid cash to buy the bike. I took a motorcycle class and got my motorcycle license right before buying it.”

  “How long did you have your motorcycle license before you had the accident?”

  “Almost eight months, sir.”

  “Had you ever had any other motorcycle accidents?” Mr. Witt asks.

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you ever have any car accidents?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Let’s talk about the day of the accident. Where were you going when the accident occurred?”

  Grimacing, I feel myself tense just thinking about that day.

  “We were going to my apartment to study,” Cal answers.

  “And where were you coming from?”

  “We were coming from Sera’s house.”

  “Did you see the truck before it hit you?” Mr. Witt asks.

  “I can’t remember. I don’t think so.”

  “What do you remember about the accident?”

  “Not a lot. We were driving down Main. It was only about 5 miles to my house from hers.”

  I notice Cal push his sunglasses up on his nose as if to hide his tears.

  “Sera was on the back, and I remember her laughing. She loved to ride with me.” He pauses before adding, “Then the next thing I remember was being on the ground. I just remember thinking about Sera. I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but she wasn’t with me anymore.”

  Cal visibly flinches when he hears me sniffle beside him. I can’t help the tears that fall as I hear about his grief, and especially about his memories of that day.

  “Do you need a break?” Mr. Witt asks, noticing Cal is upset.

  “No, sir. I want to get this over with,” Cal says.

  “Now I’m not trying to be offensive, but I need to know whether or not you had any alcohol to drink within 24 hours before that, or if you took prescription drugs or illegal drugs?”

  “I didn’t do drugs and I didn’t drink anything for more than 24 hours before the accident.”

  “I understand that you lost your sight. Can you tell me about your injuries?” Mr. Witt asks Cal.

  I cringe just thinking about how horrifying this has all been. What we both lost has devastated us. Grabbing Cal’s hand, I hope to reassure him that we are in this together. I want him to feel my love for him and know that I’m here for him. He squeezes it and seems to relax before answering.

  “I stayed in the hospital with a traumatic brain injury and a few broken bones for three long months. Was in a coma for over a week I think. I basically had to learn how to do everything all over again, just without being able to see. You would be surprised at how many things we don’t realize are much easier with sight. Just walking down a hall, I had to have help. Picking out clothes, taking a shower, getting around, all of it is different now.”

  “What are your plans now?”

  All of a sudden, Cal becomes upset, abruptly saying, “I’ll take that break now.” After being dismissed, he stands up so that we can walk into the hall, our lawyer following.

  Mr. Cole says, “You’re doing great, Cal. Just relax. It’s almost over, and then it will be Sera’s turn. Sera, you remember when I asked you questions? It will be just like that. You will both be fine.”

  I hug Cal’s side, his arm around me. “I love you,” I whisper to him. He answers with a kiss on the top of my head.

  His mom hands us each a bottle of water. “Got these in the room. I think they’re free,” she says.

  I don’t see my father; I guess he stayed behind in the deposition room.

  After about fifteen minutes, Mr. Cole escorts us back into the room.

  Mr. Witt says, “Ok. Do you feel alright, Cal? Are you ready to continue?”

  “Yes, sir,” Cal answers.

  “Ok, so let’s get back to it. What are your plans now, Cal?”

  “Well, my plans are pretty much shot to hell now, aren’t they? Sera and I were going to travel around the US on my bike. Not only can I not ride my motorcycle anymore, but I thought Sera was dead. I had no idea that she had gone to Dallas until she came back recently. I’m going to school and working on an art degree, but it isn’t what I had planned. And the worst part…I can’t ever see Sera again. I mean, sure, I can be around her, with her, but I can’t see her. I can’t see anything. Colors, trees, clouds. I miss it. I miss seeing her.”

  I never told my father about my plans with Cal. His reaction makes me flinch, his clinched teeth and cold stare at Cal and then at me.

  Mr. Witt says, “On that note, why don’t we move on to taking Sera’s deposition?”

  After swearing in, Mr. Witt went through many of the same questions with me. I tried not to look at my father. I could feel his anger
with me anyway, though, unfortunately.

  It’s when Mr. Witt asks me about my plans that Dad audibly sighs.

  “As Cal said, we were going to leave after graduation to travel and explore the United States.” I look at my father while answering. “Cal and I love each other. We were excited to be together. To spend time together. To grow up together. But the accident took that from us. We will never be able to see the world. When I was behind Cal on his bike, it was the most free I’ve ever felt in my life, and now I feel like we’ve been imprisoned by our injuries. By our circumstances. We still plan to be together. We are both going to college, and I hope to use what happened to help others. But it’s still not the same. I can forgive, but I can’t forget. I just want to start fresh, without interference of any kind,” I say, hoping Dad understands.

  My father looks down at his hands in his lap.

  Mr. Witt thanks us and gets up to leave, explaining he has to hurry to make his flight home. Cal and I speak with his mom while preparing to exit the room, and my father is talking to Mr. Cole.

  Once outside, we stand by the car waiting for everyone to come out. I want to talk to Mr. Cole before he leaves to find out what’s next.

  “That went well. We’ll be looking at mediation unless they make an offer first. I’ll be in touch with you soon,” Mr. Cole says.

  “Sounds good. Thank you for your help,” I tell him.

  Cal follows, “Yes, thank you, sir. I appreciate everything you’ve done not only for me but for Sera.” Shaking his hand, Mr. Cole turns to leave, waving at my father on his way to his car.

  My father approaches us. “Can I speak with you privately for a moment, Sera?” I agree, walking towards my father’s car, leaving Cal with his Mom.

  “Dad…”

  Before I can continue, my father embraces me. I’m surprised, and maybe a little wary, but I’m thankful. I haven’t hugged my father in a very long time. It feels good.