Two Miles South of Landing

”Are you hungry?” 

I do not know. Should I know? The answer is something that my body should know but I can’t feel my body except that my head hurts and it hurts badly. I am thirsty. 

”Where am I?”

The voice is gone. The light is there but the voice is gone. No shadows flickering in front of me. I try to lift my arm but I can’t. I can feel the pain build up, I can feel the pain thrust itself through my muscles, through my veins. I close my eyes. ”The light, could someone please turn off the light? Can I have some water?”

”The light? Sure buddy”

Darkness. Only sound. Sound from the machine. Beeping sound. No light no shadow. 

”Where am I?” 

”The hospital, you had twelve hours of surgery three days back, you have been drifting in and out buddy, how do you feel?”

”What happened?”

”I don’t know the details son, but an accident.”

”Is she OK?”

”I don’t know the details son, the doctor will be over soon.”

”Is she OK?”

Darkness. 

Know no light for all light ends. All light fades. Darkness prevails so know darkness. Let light in at times just to know and understand darkness, touch it’s fabric. Love works like that too, it goes towards the dark where it evaporates into the benevolent, into the waiting void, the wanting heart, the aching heart. Light is a gift from darkness. A venture into it, a venture back from it. I close my eyes and the dark turns darker, turns black. 

”So, son. You had some questions but first let me ask you a few…”, the man in white pauses, looks concerned but hides it well in his stern face, a young face, younger than yours perhaps, older than hers. ”What do you remember?”

”I remember falling asleep in the car”, I clear my throat to continue.

”Right, right.”

”Is she OK?”

”Who?”

”Laura, is she OK? She was driving.”

”We don’t know of anyone else in the car, just you.”

”What?”

”So there was someone else, a driver?”

”Yes, Laura was driving.”

”Right”, the doctor pauses, looks at the papers he holds in his hand and scratches his head. ”There was no one else, son.”

Darkness. Then light. Traffic light. Cars passing by, honking horns. The radio is playing, something new. Laura is laughing; ”haven’t you heard of them? Seriously? You are so old fashioned, bet you don’t know any of them if they aint singing the blues”, I hear her last words — singing the blues — echoing in my mind. I close my eyes again to the welcoming black. I feel that I am floating. The undercurrent waves bring me back and forth and I am caught where the light starts to fade into the darker part of the water. My hair, my hair is floating above me sprinkled out, taking in the weak light. My body is heavy but it won’t sink, not yet. 

Singing the blues. I hear them rebels calling. I hear them flowers grow true. I see those roses dying. I take care of them too. Silence, again. I can move my arm. I can’t move my leg. My memory is as able as my body. Only the car, only the memory of Laura in the car. Where were we before that? Her place? Her parents? I should tell the doctor about her parents. Maybe they know. Maybe she survived and in sheer panic went back. What did she go back to. 

”Where am I?”

”You are in Lansing Michigan”, not the doctor but a nurse is talking. 

”Can I speak to the doctor?”

”Not today, he will come by tomorrow, is it urgent, are you in pain?”

”No, I mean no, not like that, I can move my hand.”

”Can you move the legs?”

I try, but I can’t: ”No.”

”It might take some time.”

”Can I have something for the pain?”

”Just press that red button next to you.”

I press the button, I press it again, and again. 

Laura stops the car. She lights a cigarette and steps out. I should go after her. But why? Why don’t I? She starts walking down the road and then she turns back. 

”Listen”, she says. ”Listen buddy, this is weird, how much did we get from that liquor store?”

I tell her half the figure, no not even that, less than half the figure. 

”God damn it! And if we split that, I mean that won’t take us far. I have the money I took from my folks, and you got yours, we might get to Detroit and then south but come on, we need a plan”. 

I start to approach her. When she turns again and walks towards me I grab her head and throw her off the road. It is dark outside and there are no cars in sight.

”What the hell are you doing?” she screams. 

I kick her hard in the stomach and then I grab her hair and start dragging her into the woods while she is kicking and screaming, kicking and screaming. 

Darkness. Silence. Those two; how I long for them. How I need them. The light of the day outside the window with the gray clouds. A day, what day? Perhaps it is better if I don’t know. Perhaps it is better. The doctor is approaching. 

Doctor pauses by the bed and runs his index finger over his forehead. ”I have some officers here who would like to speak to you, can you do that? That would be good.”

”What about?”

”Let them deal with it, I’ll leave you to it.”

Justice is a moon. Blood is everywhere and the law, what is the law? The law is but a joke. The law is but a monstrous joke. The moon knows no law written in language. The officers arrive. I can see it in their eyes, they know something. I press the button a few times and prepare. 

”So, son. They got the tests back and well as you have been informed you were out of it, you must have been. We found a number of chemicals and you had been drinking. Were you driving?”

”No.”

”If you weren’t then where is the driver?”

”She must be there, what happened? Did we hit another car?”

”No, a tree fortunately.”

”Where?” 

”Two miles south of Landing.”