“Gladys! I told you she didn’t have one! She probably doesn’t want one, either.” Grandpa Sharp grumbled. “I tried to tell you these teenagers don’t wear watches. Now you’ve ruined her surprise!”
“Now Fred,” Grandma Sharp fussed, “just because I asked her if she had a watch does not mean I bought her one for her birthday. Quit your quarreling.” She cupped her hand over her mouth. “But Rebecca, dear, if you already have a watch, you can take this one back. The receipt’s in the box.”
I laughed and hugged them both again. Daddy’s parents were the cutest little old couple. Both were white-headed, stoop-shouldered, and ornery as the day is long. But I loved them to their last wrinkle.
Memaw and Pappaw Murphy got the final hugs.
“How are y’all doing?” I asked.
“We ah fine, Rebecca,” Memaw said.
“What’s that?” Pappaw shouted. He was losing his hearing, and Memaw had been trying to talk him into getting a hearing aid, but he refused.
Memaw grunted, then raised her voice. “She asked how we doin’, Hubert!”
“You ain’t gotta yell, Hazel. I can hear, ya know,” he groaned.
Memaw rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as she let out an exaggerated sigh.
I leaned in and deliberately tried to talk louder. “I am glad you came for my birthday.”
“Any excuse for me to come eat some of your momma’s good cooking.” Pappaw chuckled. “Hazel nearly starves me, as you can see. Hehehe.”
Pappaw liked to make jokes, even when he was the only one who thought they were funny. His cute old-man laugh was absolutely contagious though, so everyone ended up laughing anyway.
Memaw handed me a pretty pink gift bag stuffed with white tissue paper. “It ain’t much,” she squeezed my shoulder, “but we thought you’d like it.”
“Bought you a knife kit?” Pappaw jerked his head around in horror. “It ain’t no knife kit, Hazel!”
I bit my jaw to keep from laughing.
“Christ All Mighty, Hubert!” Memaw shook her head vigorously.
What a pair. Memaw, with her blue-gray, tightly permed hair and slow Southern drawl, and Pappaw, with his pocket protector and signature pulled-up-to-his-armpits old-man pants. All my grandparents were a bit grouchy in their own way, but they weren’t grumps, and there’s a difference.
After dinner, Momma brought out my birthday cake—a homemade red velvet cake with real cream cheese and pecans in the icing. Katie was right, she should’ve opened a bakery. Everyone sang to me, and I made my second wish for the day before blowing out my candles. It was a wonderful party, but my mind was unsettled, my heart heavy. I felt empty inside without Jackson. I wanted to see him. It wouldn’t be a happy birthday until I did.
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson
Tuesday, May 8, 1990 ~ A Wrecked Night
The bus ride home was wild with celebration. Although the rain had moved in and was pouring down hard, it didn’t damper anyone’s spirit. We had beaten Eastmond in every event. Several of our athletes had achieved personal records, including myself. I had set a new state record, running a mile in three minutes and fifty-nine seconds, making me the first sub-four-minute miler at Niceville High. Rebecca was going to be ecstatic! I hated she missed it. Emotions warred within me. I was eager to see her, anxious to tell her about the meet, and determined to talk about our relationship, even though part of me was scared to death I’d lose her.
Suddenly, I was flung forward as the bus driver slammed on brakes. “Shit!” I cursed out loud.
My teammates echoed swear words of their own as the bus began to swerve out of control. Unbeknown to us at the time, a deer had darted across the road, and the driver tried to avoid hitting it.
“Oh my God!” someone yelled. “We’re gonna crash!”
Celebratory shouts turned into panicked screams as the bus began to fishtail. I was instantly stricken with fear and helplessness. The driver tried to correct the bus, but it continued to swerve from side to side. Then it completely lost traction on the rain-slicked road and began to spin around backward.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. My coaches and teammates were being slung around like rag dolls as the bus slid and rocked back and forth. The driver was frantically fighting the wheel, trying to regain control to no avail.
“Everybody, hold on!” he shouted.
I shot up from my seat and grabbed onto one of the bars in the overhead rack. My muscles tensed as the bus slung me around. I gripped the bars tighter, bracing myself against the seat in front of me as I fought to assess the situation. My eyes darted across the aisle. Andrew was also clenching the rack above. The tendons in his neck strained against his skin, his face ashen with fear.
“Everyone, brace yourselves!” I yelled.
My heart raced like a runaway train while I watched my teammates struggle to grab ahold of something––anything, a seat, an overhead rack, or another person. Several of the girls crouched down in the aisle, weeping and praying.
“God, please make it stop!” one of them cried.
Another pleaded, “Please don’t let us die!”
The bus tore across the highway and into the ditch, plowing up wet grass and mud. The screams of my teammates pierced the stormy night as the bus lost its right front wheel and tumbled over onto its side.
“We’re gonna roll!” the driver cried out, terror ringing in his voice.
A shower of glass rained down on us as the windows blew out. I lost my grip and was thrown against the roof, striking my head. A bolt of excruciating pain shot from the top of my skull to the base of my neck, momentarily blinding me. Something cold started oozing down the side of my face. I tried to reach for the metal bar to pull myself up but wasn’t able to move. The cries and screams of my teammates faded. My hands and feet grew numb as fear and confusion overtook me.
“Help!” I tried yelling, but only a whisper came out. “Please… Somebody… Help me…” Again, my words were lost.
As my vision began to blur, the last thing I remembered was the bus shaking and rattling, sliding fast down a bumpy hill on its side. Then I felt and heard a tremendous crash as we slammed into something solid. My body was thrown toward the front of the bus, and I instantly recognized the metallic taste in my mouth. Blood. I was hurt. But I didn’t know where or how bad.
The bus came to an abrupt halt, and there was an eerie stillness all around. Within seconds it was all over. The nightmare had ended. The damage was done. The screams and cries for help had stopped, and the faint sound of the rain quickly faded too. My body grew cold, and I no longer tasted the blood. I felt myself getting sleepy but tried to fight the urge. I wanted to check on my team. See if everyone was okay. Had we all made it through this hell? As I struggled to keep my eyes open, I prayed a quick prayer. Lord, help us. But my last thought before I closed my eyes was Rebecca. I love you.
Chapter Sixteen
Rebecca
Tuesday, May 8, 1990 ~ The Worst News Ever
Everyone finally went home, including Katie, and still no sign of Jackson. I was getting mopey, so I kissed my parents and thanked them both for the amazing birthday party, then went to my room. I needed a shower. I hoped the hot water would make me feel better.
It didn’t. My mood hadn’t changed. If anything, I was even more disheartened.
I put on my PJs, pulled back my covers, and plopped down on the edge of my bed. I needed to get a grip. I was eighteen. An adult. I should stop acting like a child and quit all this silly pouting, like Katie said. What did it accomplish, anyway? Nothing. Sure, my feelings were hurt. Sure, I was disappointed and even a little pissed. I figured Jackson would’ve stopped by on his way home, or at least called me to tell me how the track meet went. But for some reason, he didn’t, and I felt dissed by my one true love. On my birthday, of all days.
Something didn’t add up, though. I knew Jackson. He never showed me such disregard. He never deliberately disappointed me. If there were
any way for him to call me, he would. I was sure of it. For the moment, I talked myself out of being so upset. I got into bed and pulled the covers up, thinking if I closed my eyes, I’d go to sleep.
It didn’t work. I was wide awake. Pouting had turned into worrying. I knew Jackson had been staying with Mrs. Ruby, so calling his house wouldn’t do any good, and I wasn’t about to call Mrs. Ruby this late. That would scare her half to death. My only option was to call Katie. So I did.
“Hello?” She sounded sleepy.
“Good. You’re still up.”
“Not for long.” She yawned. “What’s up?”
“I haven’t heard from Jackson.”
She cleared her throat. “You try calling him?”
“Can’t. He’s staying with his granny, and I don’t wanna wake her.”
“Well, if he was there, he would’ve already called you.”
“Right.” I exhaled. “You’re right.”
“Maybe the meet lasted longer.”
“Till nearly eleven o’clock?” My voice was filled with desperation.
“I don’t know. Think they’re still at school?”
I huffed. “For what?”
“Beats me. Unloading shit?”
“Nothing to unload.”
“Then I dunno, sis. Try calling somebody on the team. See if they’re home.”
“Like who?”
“What about that cute guy with black hair?” She yawned again. “The one you’ve got Mrs. Powell’s class with.”
“You mean Andrew?”
“Yes. Andrew.” She suddenly sounded wide awake. “He’s so fine. Did you see how delicious his ass looked in those jeans today?”
“Um. No, I—”
“Girl. They were so tight, if he farted, he would’ve blown off his boots.”
“Nice.” I was pretty sure Katie could hear the eye-roll in my tone.
“You should definitely call Andrew. Tell him I said hi. And that I wanna jump his bones.”
“Great. I’m having a panic attack, and all you can think about is sex.”
She laughed. “Just call him. Ask if he’s gotta girlfriend. I don’t think he does.”
“I’m not calling Andrew. Besides, I don’t know his number.”
“It’s eight-six-five-two-one-four-seven,” she quickly rattled off.
“How’d you know that?”
“Really, Rebecca?” I could hear her eyes rolling. “You forget, I have a photographic memory.”
“So, where’d you see his number then?”
She laughed. “It’s written on one of the bathroom stalls.”
I grunted. “That’s just gross. It’s probably not even his number.”
“It is.” Katie’s tone assured me she was confident in herself.
“You’ve called it?”
“No. But I know it’s his number. I got Mrs. Liz to confirm it.”
I sucked my teeth. “You’re such a teacher’s pet.”
“Bite me. She’s not a teacher.”
“Whatever.”
“Call him. And after you ask about Jackson, be sure to tell him I think he’s hot.”
“Okay. Sure.”
Katie laughed. “You won’t!”
“You’re right!”
She laughed again. “I know!”
Andrew Garcia was one of Jackson’s closest friends. He threw discus for the track team, and he was one of the best in the whole county, so it would be reasonable to assume he had gone to the meet in Eastmond. I liked Andrew. He sat behind me in Mrs. Powell’s math class. He was a nice guy, smart and funny. And he had the cutest dimples when he smiled. And Katie was right, he was fine. Super fine. But not as fine as Jackson. He was, like, the second hottest guy in school. But he was definitely not someone I felt comfortable calling that late. Or calling at all, for that matter. I never called boys. And I would feel absolutely foolish calling Andrew.
“Crap! Okay. You win. I’ll try calling him. But I’m not telling him you think he’s hot. I’m drawing the line there.”
“Suit yourself,” she said through a yawn. “This girl’s going to sleep. My belly is full, and my mind is mush. Maybe all that studying will pay off and we’ll ace our test. Then we can get Chinese after school to celebrate. My treat. I’m craving sushi.”
“Oh, so Panda Express?” I laughed.
“Hey, talk is cheap, and so’s their buffet.”
I sighed. “Okay. I suppose I’ll go out with you.”
Katie laughed. “Call Andrew. And don’t forget to mention I wanna lick every inch of his body.”
“Eww!” I screamed. “You’re totally disgusting!”
“Whatever! You’re totally a prude!”
I grinned. “Good night, Jezebel.”
“Good night, old maid.”
I hung up the phone and shook my head. Never would I ever tell Andrew Garcia that Katie wanted to lick his body. Not in a million years. How’d my quiet friend come up with such things? I stared down at the phone for a few seconds with a wide grin on my face, trying to clear my mind of the vulgar image Katie had created and build up the nerve to dial Andrew’s phone number.
Suddenly, the phone rang, and I nearly jumped off the bed. Yanking it up to prevent a second ring, I quickly brought it to my ear. It had to be Jackson. Who else would call this late?
“Hello?”
“Rebecca?” It wasn’t Jackson.
“Yes?”
“This is Andrew. Andrew Garcia.”
Weird! “Hey, Andrew. What’s up?” My brow pinched as confusion filled my mind. Why is Andrew calling me? And why is he calling this late? Something’s wrong.
“I’m sorry to call so late.” His voice sounded weak, and then it began to crack. “There’s been a terrible accident. On the way back to school tonight...”
My heart sank. “What?” I clenched the phone tighter, pressing it harder against my ear.
“There was a bad storm… A deer ran out in front of the bus… And the bus driver lost control…” He was sniffling between each shaky sentence. “The bus ended up on its side, crashed against some pine trees.”
I gasped. “Oh my God!”
Andrew cleared his throat and sniffed hard. “I’m here at Regional Hospital. Coach has been trying to contact all the parents, but he wasn’t able to reach Jackson’s mom or his granny. I told him Jackson lived across the road from you, so he asked me to see if you’d help contact his family.”
“Jackson? Is he all right?” I was panicking.
He sniffled again. “He hit his head pretty hard.”
“How bad, Andrew? Tell me!”
“I’m sorry, Rebecca. This whole night… It’s been the worst ever.” Andrew broke down and began to cry. “Jackson… He’s… He’s in a coma.”
“No!” I burst into tears. Not Jackson! Not my Jackson! “! Please, God, no!” I prayed. “Please make him be all right!”
“I’m sorry, Rebecca. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Was anyone else hurt?” I struggled with the words.
He attempted to clear his throat. “We’re all pretty banged up. Some broken bones and a few concussions. Everyone was covered in glass from the windows shattering.” Then his voice broke. “But Justin, Shane, and Todd…” he trailed off, sobbing.
“Andrew! What about them?” I cried.
“They’re gone, Rebecca.” His words cut like a knife.
“No!” I dropped the phone and buried my face in my pillow, weeping hysterically.
Momma heard me crying and came rushing into my room. “Rebecca! What’s wrong? What is it, baby?” she pleaded. “Say something!”
“There was an accident, Momma. The track bus…” I wept into my pillow. “Three boys were killed… And Jackson… Jackson’s in a coma!”
Momma gasped. “Oh, dear Lord!”
My heart couldn’t contain such overwhelming emotions. I was sobbing so hard, breathing was difficult. The air felt like shards of glass cutting my throat and lungs. Momma sat down on
the bed beside me and pulled me tight against her. I pressed my face into her chest as she rocked, trying to calm me. Her prayers vibrated against the top of my head as we swayed back and forth. Then she held me still. I took a shaky breath and sat up to wipe my face. Tears continued to flood my eyes.
“We gotta go to the hospital, Momma.” I sniveled.
“Okay, baby.” Her voice was tender. “Get dressed, and I’ll go wake your father and Timmy.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rebecca
Tuesday, May 8, 1990 ~ The Promise
We pulled into Regional Hospital within twenty minutes of leaving our house. Mom, Dad, Timmy, and I had all been silently pleading for God’s mercy for Jackson and all the others involved, and for peace for the families of Justin, Shane, and Todd. Dad parked the car, and we hurried through the large automatic doors of the hospital. I swallowed hard and gripped Momma’s hand.
The elevator ride up to Jackson’s room seemed to take forever. Finally, the doors opened, and we headed down the long, vacant hall. As we passed by the family waiting area, I glanced through the window. The room was filled to capacity with people. My heart jumped in my throat at the sight, and I gritted my teeth to keep my composure.
“It’s all right, baby,” Momma said, squeezing my hand. “Not much farther now. We’re going to room 312.” Momma called the hospital while we were getting ready and spoke with Coach Randall. He told her he finally had gotten in touch with Jackson’s mom, so I was hoping she and Mrs. Ruby had already arrived.
When we approached the door to Jackson’s room, Momma put her arm around me. Daddy pushed open the door, and we quietly entered. The sharp odor of alcohol, disinfectant, and sickness made my stomach churn. As soon as my eyes found Jackson, my hands flew up to cover my mouth and stifle the cries welling up inside me. My heart shattered. There, behind a partially drawn curtain, lay the love of my life. I had to be close to him, touch him, make sure he was still alive.
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