Don’t, Sue!

Don’t, Sue!

At 11:49 a.m., Sue plowed into the back of a bus.

WHUMP!

And just like that, lunch was delayed for the entire office.  

A witness called 9-1-1. 

Voices… sound urgent… Something going on?… doesn’t matter… Sirens?… accident?... Let them deal with it… Drift away… and back… 

Sue opened one eye, just a slit. The other one didn’t want to cooperate.

“There you are, back with us!”

Fuzzy woman… blonde hair… no, blonde woman… fuzzy hair… but she IS fuzzy… face blurry… focus, brain…

Cool hands brushed lightly around Sue’s face and neck.

“Does this hurt?” 

“C-c-c—” 

Why can’t I get words out?

“Cold?”

“Y-y-y—”

What’s wrong with me?

“Ssh, it’s OK. Aleki, grab a blanket.”

Big, gentle hands tucked something fleecy around her.

Ahh… warm… cocoon… floaty…

Sue peeked again. Through her eyelashes, she saw the blonde woman’s indistinct features hovering like a bobbing pink balloon—then slowly moving into sharp focus. Hyper-sharp.

Balloons… don’t have… hair… Do they?

Up close, she could see that the woman had fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Some of the hair at her temples was gray. As Sue gazed, the fine lines deepened and widened into crevasses. Curly tendrils stiffened and stood out from the woman’s misshapen face, like heavy-duty springs. The balloon had become a living gargoyle. Grotesque. Surreal. An Easter Island monolith, perhaps?

Strange… like prescription lenses that are too strong… or an image made for viewing with 3D glasses… red overlaid with a bluish… oh! Head hurts…

The monolith’s sharp edges began to crumble away and turn hazy. The woman was disintegrating, receding… 

Like the Cheshire Cat… but without the grin… Where am I? … Is this Wonderland? … Who am I?… Doesn’t matter… just float…

Sue moved her head. And then regretted it.

“Oooh! M’ head…” she mumbled. Her tongue felt thick. Talking was an effort, but she had an urgent message to give. “Gotta… ge’…lunsh…”

The blonde woman exchanged glances with a burly, dark-skinned man. The owner of the large, warm hands? They were both in uniforms about the same shade of blue as Sue’s SUV, but not as wrinkly.

“You’re not going anywhere right now, darlin’, except the hospital,” the man said. 

Sue had a moment of piercing awareness. Hospital? But she hadn’t picked up lunch yet! She needed to get to Spyro’s Gyros! Everyone at the office was waiting. They’d be getting hungry, and Charlie would be agitated about his blood sugar. She knew what he was like when he got hypoglycemic, and it wasn’t pretty. The order of gyros would be sitting at the pickup counter getting cold, the pita bread soggy and unpalatable. But how would she get to Spyro’s?

“Uhh…Car?”

“Sorry. Your car is, um, functionally challenged.”

“Wha’ happen’?”

“You ran into the back of a bus.”

“Ahhh…” Sue’s one open eye glazed. She watched an impromptu light show of sparkling colors; a private one, just for her. Chartreuse and magenta inflorescences, popping and fading into inky indigo.

“…taKINg yOU to THe hOSPitaL,” the woman said in an oddly modulated voice. And then the black velvet curtain came down.

~~~~~

Sue didn’t come back.

“Traffic must be bad!” Shelly supposed, at quarter past twelve. “Ugh! Crosstown traffic snarls are getting horrendous, especially at lunchtime.”

“Could be a long line at Spyro’s,” Dan speculated. 

“But we pre-ordered. It’s just a pickup!”

“I gotta keep my blood sugar stable,” Charlie grumbled. “Shouldn’t be eating gyros anyway. Don’t know why I ordered one. Waste of carbs.”

At twelve thirty, Shelly called Spyro’s Gyros. The conversation was brief. 

“You guys!” she gasped, thwacking her phone on the desk. “Sue never got there!”

Charlie grunted and popped a glucose tablet into his mouth.

~~~~~

“Bus was empty. My shift ends at noon, so I was goin’ back to the yahd. Sittin’ at the light, and BAM! Somethin’ slams into me. Lady, was it? Sure hope she’s—” George grimaced, indicating the crumpled blue SUV. Officer Corcoran paused her notetaking. 

“She’s pretty banged up, but she was able to speak. We’ll be heading to the hospital later, to see if we can determine what happened.” 

George sighed and shifted his feet. “Got a perfect record. Thirty years drivin’ bus. Plannin’ to retire next year.”

“It doesn’t look like you’ll be held liable. Clearly, you were not at fault whatsoever.”

~~~~~

“It’s not Sue. It’s not her!” 

Jim took a step backward, away from that… that… grotesque gargoyle in the hospital bed. 

Sue wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that—

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with him, having that thought? No need to be morbid. That frightful sight was his wife! It must be shock affecting him. He’d been told that Sue was seriously injured, but—to see her like this…    

“I know her condition seems pretty scary right now. She’s just one massive bruise and a few fractures,” the nurse said, patting Jim’s arm. “But Sue’s still there, in that body, and she’ll be OK. We expect her to fully recover in time.”

“I don’t understand how this happened! She’s an obsessively careful driver.”

“We’ve been all through the possibilities. No sign of stroke, heart attack, brain tumor, aneurysm. We’ve taken X-rays, and given her an MRI… She's generally in fine physical condition, aside from her current injuries. It’s just not clear. Hopefully, we can get details from her soon. Right now, she just needs to know you’re here for her. I’ll give you some privacy.” The nurse gave his arm another pat before leaving the room.

Jim took a deep breath and moved to the bedside. He leaned close and whispered, “Hi, sweetie. I just wanted to tell you, that shade of purple doesn’t suit you.”

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch.

~~~~~

Floating… slowly rising… humming sounds… beeps, chirps, buzzes… voices… light… A voice… a familiar voice… Who…?

“Hi, sweetie,” she heard the beloved voice say—and knew it was Jim. And knew she was Sue. “I just wanted to tell you,” he whispered tenderly, “that shade of purple doesn’t suit you.”

Jim… Jim! He’s here… 

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch. It was the best she could do for a smile right now. She opened her one usable eye, and there he was.

“J-Jim!”

~~~~~

Memory came seeping in. Trickling, then pausing. Dribbling, splashing, suddenly rushing—and Sue was reliving That Day.

Light traffic… plenty of time… pleasant day… bright sun… bus up ahead… Advertisement on the back… what’s it say? Sun’s shining right on it… have to squint… OH NO!!

“Personal Injury Accident?” 

The candid, toothy smile on the man’s face invited litigation. “Don’t get thrown under the bus! Call us today!”