Beyond Repair
The accident happened three years ago today.
Mom didn't want me to go. She had a bad feeling. I dismissed it as her usual overprotective clucking.
I drove out to see him the day after Thanksgiving. It was a peaceful drive. Overcast. I brought leftovers.
The weekend was long and short at the same time. Only three days, yet when I assemble the episodes in my memory, they seem to exceed that.
We started back Sunday afternoon. He wanted to bypass the interstate traffic by taking backroads. I followed him.
We watched a lot of movies that weekend. At the video store, he wanted to get Rush Hour 2; he hadn't seen it. He forgot that we saw it together a month earlier.
He had promised some freshman a ride back to school, so we drove to the kid's house to pick him up. It was way out in the woods somewhere. I wondered how long before we would get back on the highway.
I met his best friend for the first time. We went to their old hangout and they told me stories of growing up together. I wished I was dating his friend. I felt really guilty.
The sunset was beautiful. It started raining, just enough to dot the windshield. We had been on the same winding road for half an hour. I was getting carsick.
He taught me how to drive stick. My first lesson. I was getting the hang of it, but it was tiring and I wanted to quit. He could finish teaching me later.
It was a two-lane road, no turn-offs that I could see; still I was afraid to lose sight of him. He disappeared over a hill. I sped up to catch him.
It's hard for me to reconcile who I am now with the person I was then. So confident. So blind. How is it that I was so unafraid to be close to someone? I am none of those now.
The speed limit posted on the curve was 15mph. I remember thinking that was a silly number as I crested the hill. The next moment I was on a carnival ride. Floating. Laughing to myself as I thought, It looks like I'm going into that ditch, and not believing it until the violent triple landing jarred me out of denial.
I don't remember screaming. Yet every time I replay the event in my mind, I hear a scream.
I had stopped. The airbags lay flaccid on the dash and there was smoke inside the car. Every movie image I had ever seen of automobile explosions flashed before my eyes. I tried to get out, but my door wouldn't open; it was pinned against the bank of the ditch. I crawled to the back seat and got out there. Then I ran.
He knew something was wrong when he didn't see me in his rearview. He had already turned around when I caught up with him.
The car never exploded. The smoke was leftover from the airbags deploying; same with the symmetrical abrasions on both my hands. The ditch was part of someone's front yard. They let us use their phone, since we had no cell coverage. Their children took flashlights and directed traffic. They were practiced.
I felt terrible for inconveniencing everyone. The police. The tow truck driver. The homeowners. Every motorist who screeched to a halt at the sight of kids with flashlights and a ditch full of car. I felt especially bad for the guy trying to bum a ride to school. He didn't know me at all, and now he was several hours delayed and relegated to the back seat.
We made it to campus late that night. The next day I took a train home. We broke up two weeks later.
And I bought a new car.
I am glad you are ok. It could have been much worse, trust me on that. God Bless and have a good Thanksgiving. -E
Posted by: Eric on November 25, 2004 07:41 AMI don't think that the wreck had anything to do with you breaking up with your beau...maybe it speeded it up a wee bit, but it was destined to happen. Better sooner than later...glad you landed on you feet. BTW, almost the same thing happened to me many moons ago except that my then boyfriend was driving. He was wearing a seat belt, I was not. He was a doctor, I was not. When upside down in his Jeep, all I could remember was me asking if he was alright...he never did inquire about my well being. Thank goodness I never did marry him.
Posted by: Marie on November 28, 2004 08:49 PM