Kept Moving II


Pic of the day, part i: Pieta, By Eugene Delacroix

____________________________

Sooner or later that which is now life shall be poetry, and every fair and manly trait shall add a richer strain to the song.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

____________________________

Continued from “Kept Moving

The man who initially told the young man to stay down and stop moving, seeing that the young man wasn’t going to stop decided to get him to stop.  He was standing in front of the young man who was trying his best to crawl while dragging his broken leg and bleeding head and body and blocked his path.  There was a trail of blood several feet long behind him.  The young man barked “I gotta get home!” but  he collapsed face down on the ground and stopped moving.  He rolled over and cried out in agony as his leg twisted under him.

There was a small crowd that was gathering in the area, and everyone there called 911 from their phones.  Another young man tried to take a picture of the bloody man but was cajoled and pushed out of the way and told not to take pictures.

A woman in her late 50’s dressed in a jeans and red sneakers and an “It’s nice to be nice.” shirt was telling a man who was there “I saw the whole thing!  It was horrible!  He jumped out in front of that car!  And that guy never even stoppe…”  She was interrupted by a well dressed man in his mid 40’s.  He said “He didn’t jump in front of anything.  He was in the store in front of me.  I wasn’t really paying attention, but I saw him walking between the van and my car,” as he pointed at the car “and then he just flew.  Freaked me the fuck out.”

A stranger asked a question from inside the store “Did anyone see the license plate of the guy who did this?”

There was no response.

Sirens could be heard in the distance.  They sounded like they were getting closer.  An old man who walked up after the accident said “Help is on the way, kid.  Stay down, son. ”  He had to say that because he was moving again, trying to sit up.

An 50ish hispanic woman wearing a plain black shirt, jeans shorts, and flip-flops stuck her head out of the store and asked again “Did anyone see the license plate of the guy who did this?”  This caused some momentary consternation, and everyone looked at one another.  The well dressed man said “I didn’t catch it, I was in no position to see it.”  The old man and the woman in her late 50’s just shook their heads.

———————————–

The man who drove the station wagon stopped a few blocks away and parked under a tree across the street from a school.  He shook very slightly and looked at his hands, then at the  rear view mirror in his car.  “I never saw him. I never saw him.”

He knew that running was wrong, but he had run.  He didn’t know why, he just did.  He looked at himself in the mirror again.  He looked scared and he knew it.  He wanted to turn and go back, but wasn’t sure if he could at this point.

———————————–

The Ambulance showed up first.

Tires screeched as the ambulance pulled up and the sound of the sirens died out and the EMT’s got out wearing their blue nitrite gloves already.  They pushed through the small crowd and walked over to the young man on the ground, and the first thing they did was look at him and figure out how badly he was hurt.  The larger younger man looked at his buddy as he knelt down to look the young man and said “He’s having a bad day.  He got hit by a car?”  He turned his head to the left and made eye contact with the well dressed man as he asked the question.

“Yes. Some kinda station wagon, clipped him right over there, behind my car.”

Behind your car?” the EMT repeated the question?

The well dressed man pointed to his car and said “Ya.  He was trying to cross the street between my car and the white van, and that’s when he got hit.”

“Gotcha.” the EMT said.  The young man rubbed his head with his left hand which was shaking like a leaf, and came away even bloodier than it was before. “Fuck!” What the fuck!”  I gotta get home!”

The EMT immediately turned to the young man “You’re going to be OK, you’re going to go to the Hospital.  What’s your name?”

“I’m… bBAAAAAAAAAAAAA” is what he said because as soon as he began the sentence he started to move his leg, and the pain buried his answer.  The EMT backed up and shook his head.  He said “I didn’t need that ear anyway”  as he turned to his buddy who was coming over with equipment from the truck.  “Broken leg.  Possible concussion.  Shock.  He’s lost a lot of blood.”

The second EMT said “Got it.”  He looked at the young man questioningly, after noting he was almost sitting up and wouldn’t need a backboard.  He said “High?”

The first EMT, still kneeling said ” Dunno.”  The sound of police sirens began to get louder.  He said  “I’m gonna try this again.  What’s your name, son?”

He said “Bobby.”  He was breathing very hard as the pain was still rifling through his system.  “This shit is crazy.  I’m cold…” His head lolled forward for a second, then it picked up and  Bobby asked “What’s happened?” He was trying to hold up his head, but seemed to be almost too weak to do it, and he shook as he spat blood on his shirt.

The EMT said “I have no idea son, but were about to find out.”  and yelled out behind him, trying to yell over the sirens.  “We gotta take care of this, now!  He’s starting to blank out!”  Two police cars came screaming around the corner and pulled up blocking traffic in both directions. A second ambulance pulled in behind the two police cars.

To Be Continued…

____________________________

Pic of the day, part ii: A Corner of the Studio, By Eugene Delacroix

____________________________

To different minds, the same world is a hell, and a heaven.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

____________________________

That’s it from me, America.  More story tomorrow.  G’night.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s