PAST THE TIME

Jenan Field-Ridley

1115 words

PROMPT: There’s Been an Accident - What happens next?

PAST THE TIME

Edward woke from sleep. Was it time? It was getting late. It might even be past the time he should be picking up Terry from Kindergarten.

Through the windows, he could see a group of schoolchildren approaching. Perhaps they would know where Terry was. There was even one with a curly mop just like Terry’s. Edward got up from bed and went to the window.

“Hi!” he called. “Kids!” But to his surprise, the children drew back. Some started to giggle. Some even assumed the big-eyed look of fear. They went running up the road.

Edward was annoyed. Children these days were becoming silly. Though not his Terry. Were not his Kindergarten teachers always telling him how smart Terry was? How engaging.? A chip off the old block. No less!

But it was getting dark. He would have to hurry. Little Terry would be getting anxious. He should have gone for him a long time ago. He would have to give up these friends. Too much drinking! They had been a welcome distraction when he had lost his young wife. But they had seemed to just stay on. And the liquor drinking had become too much. Now he had totally messed up and forgotten to pick up Terry. And there was still ketchup from the French fries on his hands. Lots of it. Too much. Too much of the red sticky stuff.

Edward hurried along the sidewalk. He kept to the grass. But that car behind him was keeping pace. What was the matter with the driver? Edward ran unto the grass, but another pair of lights was coming towards him, flashing its high beam at him. They were working in pairs! Road hogs! They shouldn’t be allowed on the roads. Probably drunk too. They were a menace. But Edward continued to run. He must pick up his Terry. His Terry would not be safe on roads like these. With drivers like these.

The cars were honking at him now. He thought he heard a siren. Their lights were blinding him. He couldn’t see. And they were yelling something at him. He could not hear. But suddenly, through his windscreen, he could see the little figure coming towards him. He was suddenly on it, brakes screaming. Too late. Too late. He was going to hit… A thud? A crunch? He could no longer see the figure. No. No. No. Where were those screams coming from? They seemed to be coming from him.  Screams echoed and re-echoed in his head. Why didn’t they stop?

“It’s okay now. It’s okay now.” The kindly nurse patted and smoothed the pillow as she adjusted the sleeve of her patient. “That should give you a good sleep. Rest now.” As she pulled the screen around the bed, she shook her head, grieved for him.

Edward did not hear her say to the white-coated doctor who had approached, “It’s Mr. Wilson, Doctor. He ran off again. Some school kids saw him wandering about. Not a stitch of clothes on.” The young doctor was fresh out of psychiatry school and still showed his heart. “Some day he will have to face the fact that he killed his own son while driving drunk.” The nurse nodded in sad agreement.

The LAST of the sun was hitting the bench on which he sat.  He could still feel its quiet warmth. There was even a little breeze that ruffled the faded paper petals of the little grave to his right. Pink petals. Pink headstone. He guessed that a little girl must be lying there. He was so glad that Terry was resting alongside little ones like himself. For a brief minute, he allowed himself to wonder what had interrupted their little lives.

He caught himself and shook off those thoughts. His Terry would not want him nursing sad thoughts on his birthday. Especially when chocolate cake was involved. Just at the right moment came the lilting voice of his little Mehgan. “Dad, Dad! Come on! Mom’s got Terry’s cake. It’s chocolate and strawberries. His favorite, right? Let’s go”

Edward had to steady himself to field the hurling little ball of energy that came at him. The little girl had lunged at him as he was attempting to stand. She was all smiles -excited at the thought of the celebration awaiting them. Not far behind came her little brother, “Bro” as she called him. His little legs were carrying him as fast as they could over the uneven ground of the cemetery.

“I got you. I got you.” Terry reassured him when his long legs had covered the ground between them. He was able to pick up and carry both his little bundles of blessings toward the parking area, glancing back with a slight smile toward Terry’s resting place. He felt that Terry was at peace. And so was he.

“Where’s mom?” he asked.

“There she is!” And both kids giggled as they pointed to the lady who stood by the blue sedan, face smiling and welcoming.

“I got the cake.” She said, her eyes searching her husband’s face, silently trying to read his state of mind. “The cake looks great” she was saying. “That shop always does a fantastic job.” “Yes, I know. The children will love it”, he said with a little laugh. “Heck, I will love it”.  He tried to reassure her with his eyes that he was alright. And she breathed a silent “Thank you, Jesus”

God had certainly brought her erstwhile patient a long way since she had met him, a broken widower who had run over his only child while in a drunken state. She had been part of his psychiatric nursing team, empathizing with him and determined to give him the best nursing she was capable of.

Perhaps it was not surprising that having committed to following up his progress, they had spent time together, being drawn closer, eventually joining their lives together in the little chapel, pastored by her own lifelong spiritual teacher and mentor.

Later, their cup ran over with the addition of first a little girl, then a boy. The two kids brought such joy to them both, with Edward slowly becoming a new man, finally achieving some peace over the terrible thing that had happened.

Today had been Terry’s birth anniversary and they had continued the practice of celebrating it with their two little ones. The two kids enjoyed the event as if it were their own anniversary, treating the death of the brother they had never met, as a temporary absence. And that was how Edward saw it too. Grievous but temporary.