Amy's Popsicle

Amy’s Popsicle was melting and reddish watery syrup ran through her fingers, but she did not want to pay attention to it, she was concentrating on the race, sitting on the official seats of the grandstand of the motor car racing course.

Marc’s car had moved to the front of the pack and was now in a leading position. There was intense excitement in the crowd and sounds of surprise and of admiration were about her. She decided to move down the aisle to have a closer look, took a handkerchief from her pocket and managed to wipe some of the sticky substance running through her hand as she listened to the crowd’s comments. ‘Who is the driver of number 28’?  ‘What colour is that car? ‘Blue’? ‘I have never heard of him before’ ‘He must be a newcomer,’ ‘I know him, he is Marc Sunders, he was supposed to gain some experience, but no one anticipated he could win’

Amy was excited, at first she disliked the idea of Marc racing, she thought it was dangerous and crazy, but he had insisted so much and seemed to be so important for him that eventually she caved in and said, yes. Now, in this excitement, she understood the lure of the sport and thrill of winning.  All the same, she was apprehensive.

She kept moving down the aisle and rushed against a pretty girl that was trying to pose for a photographer; she was part of a group of girls amongst which she recognised models and celebrities. They were obviously wandering about looking for exposure and maybe a hot date. Amy had not until today realised the attraction that racing drivers generated amongst young girls

Marc was now on a straight course and maintaining the lead. She stopped worrying about the Popsicle and concentrated on the action. The crowd continued to be excited and cheering, there were only three more laps to go and Marc was still in front.

A wandering fly landed on the Popsicle syrup and zoomed about her disrupting her concentration. Subconsciously, she moved towards a rubbish bin to throw the leftovers of the Popsicle away and wipe her hand.

As she looked down to drop the Popsicle’s stick in the bin, a flash caught the side of her eyes. The crowd screamed, and panic took over her body.  

Marc’s car was airborne; it landed slightly on its side with a big thump and then it turned on itself and rolled several times. 

Oh, good brief! Is he all right! How terrible! These were now the comments around Amy.  Other cars continued racing but the crowd has lost interest and all that cheering had given place to a sober silence.

An incredible action materialised in seconds around Marc’s car, firemen and other assistants were all moving about the car and trying to get Marc out of his car.  She screamed, and tried to reach the driving circuit, she wanted to go across the tarmac and run to his help, she was trying to climb over the barriers separating the crowds from the circuit.

Someone, she never knew who, grab her from behind and held her back.

‘Stop, Stop’!! This person said, ‘Do you want to be killed on the tarmac’?

She fell down on the floor, and in her confusion saw the ambulance arriving and Marc’s father approaching the site of the car. She was on her knees; she was crying and coughing, praying and nearly dying. He heart stopped she could not see clearly, smoke came from the area where the car was and some white foaming substance surrounded the car. Marc was on a stretcher and the ambulance siren went on as it moved away.

The two lanky fellows that had taken her to the preference seat came down and asked her if would like them to take to her to the Hospital.  She nodded and shook and cried all the way.   

When they arrived at St Peter's Hospital, she was asked into a small sitting room and a social worker came in. She needed to provide some personal details.

‘Why’? Asked Amy.

‘Because it was a policy of the hospital only to disclose personal information of patients to next of kin or certain family members’. Was the response

She remembers being very angry, ‘Yes, she was his girlfriend,’’ Yes, they were living together’,’ Yes, for the last six months’.

 Was she sure? ‘Yes because the lease was due on the last day of the month’. I have a copy of the lease if you want to see it and took out her phone and presented it.

It would seem that the lease was enough proof for the social worker.

Amy then asked how Marc was. Te social worker answer was ‘We will not know how he is until the doctors have finished attending to him’. 

‘How long would they take’? She asked, but she got an unsatisfactory response again,

‘No, they did not know’. 

She was told she could wait to find out how Marc was either in the common lounge or in that room.

Peter one of Mark’s mechanic came into the room. 

How are you? He asked. ‘I am not sure; what do you know about Marc’? Was her reply

‘Nothing – ‘no one seems to know’. 

Her telephone rang, it was her mother. ‘Mum’ she cried ‘I am at St Peters Hospital awaiting news..., yes... no one would help me or let me know anything’. Mum was coming over.

Peter went out and came back with a glass of water, she drank it first slowly and then when she became aware of how thirsty she was finished quickly. As she was putting the glass away her hand stuck to the glass, it was the Popsicle’s juices still on her hand. It had left a red mark on the glass and thought of blood came to her head.

She burst into tears again, and asked Peter

Was Marc bleeding? Will he live?  

Oh God help us!! She cried

‘Now, now’, said Peter, ‘please try to stay strong, please, please, try.

She sat and tried to relax and switch on the television, there was the crash again

She looked away. Took a magazine and pretend to read it, she fell very tired and weak. She appeared to want to doze away, but then started to cry again.

Peter stood there not knowing what to do, feeling uncomfortable and inadequate; he sat down and looked at a newspaper.

A moment later someone entered the room and asked if she was Amy

‘Yes’, she said ‘I am Amy’ in the hope that someone was bringing her some news.

‘Your Mum is here’ she heard in her confused and anxious state

Mum, embrace her and ask what happened, she has seen the news in the way from shopping, she was at a traffic light and saw the crash on a big television screen in a shop window.

‘Well’, said her Mum, ‘We are going to see someone immediately’

‘I see you later’ said Peter, he really did not know how to cope with Amy any longer and was glad her mother was there.

They walked through the corridors to the reception but in the way, they met Marc’s father. 

Amy, how are you? He said and

‘Hi, Lorna’ addressing Mum,

How is Marc? Asked Amy, it was the only thing it mattered now

How is he? She insisted

I must see him! She pressed on.

Mr Sanders seemed to have been gravely affected by the accident, he looked very old, was pale and out of breath and shivering.    

‘Could I see him please’? Asked Amy once more

He motioned them towards the intensive care unit.

Mum, understood the stage in which Marc’s father was and took control of the situation.

Does your family know of the accident? She asked him.

Yes, they are at the holiday house on the coast but are coming back tomorrow.

Marc was in the intensive care unit and numerous pieces of medical equipment, pipes and wires were attached to him. 

Amy went to him and held his hand. Then hoping he may hear her, said ‘Marc, please get better. Please. ‘I love you so much’ and kept on holding his hands. The sticky juice of the Popsicle rubbed against the bandages on his hands. She realised that the nurses may think of germs and infection when they see the soiled bandages and tried to wipe off. As she was doing this she realised that he was holding her hand tight, but a moment later she could not feel it again. 

His father sat nearby in completed desolation, Mum was in control. She always managed to be in control. She realised the seriousness of Marc’s injuries and the pain of his father. She went to talk to the nurse in charge and came back saying that there was nothing to be done for the moment, should any adverse development take place during the night they will ring us immediately. 

‘Please, come with me home, have something to eat and a rest and we could come back at five o’clock tomorrow’. Amy’s mother begged.

Next morning at five-thirty, they were all at the Hospital, he had a good night and was still sleep. The doctors will be seen him later that day.

They could sit outside until he was attended by the nurse and maybe wait for the doctors.

All of a sudden, Marc moved, and cough.  

A moment later two doctors run into the ward, nurses were rushing about and Amy feared the worst.

Is it Marc? She asked

‘No, no’ said Mum ‘I think it is the other person in the ward’.

They waited outside the ward and eventually a nurse came out and told them that for the time being no one was allowed in the intensive care unit and suggested they may want to go down to the cafeteria and have a drink.

Amy was unable to relax.

After some tea and muffin, they went back to the intensive care unit.

As they entered the room it was obvious that Marc was not there any longer someone else was on the site of his bed.  Amy heart sunk. Her Mother went pale

‘Where is Marc’? Asked Amy in a bewildered tone

Before the nurse had time to answered Amy's eyes saw a bed in the corridor, only the lower part of this bed was visible. Without saying anything she walked towards it, she could see the bandage hands and recognised the reddish now semi cleaned marks of the Popsicle juices on them.

The nurse run after her, screaming ‘Excuse me’! ‘ Excuse me, please’! You cannot go there! You are not allowed ...’

Amy did not hear and keep on walking towards the bed

There was Marc ... His face had been covered and all equipment had been disconnected from his body. She took his hand,  but it was cold and lumpy, she bent over the bed holding his hand and cry for a long, long time...