Silent Upon Impact

When Vada King was 12 years old, she and her mother wrapped their Toyota Supra around a lamppost.

Vada was caught in a particularly awful screaming match with her mother. As Vada aged, the cause of the fight morphed and twisted until she couldn’t remember it in the slightest.

This argument caused Vada’s mother to throw her hands up in an action of anger and lose control of the Supra. However, it wasn’t necessarily just this lack of hands on the wheel that caused the car to spin out of control.

Vada never admitted this to anyone, but she shoved her mother. She used both her hands, and all of her anger, and shoved her mother’s right shoulder hard into the door.

Hard enough that her mother’s feet slid around the car floor, desperately trying to find traction. Instead, they found the gas pedal.

Vada still remembers that cold, icy panic and dread that slid down her whole body when she felt the car accelerate. She and her mother both howled as the Supra spun out of control. It only stopped once the right side of the car smashed into a nearby lamppost, the force of the impact so great that the rest of the car had no choice but to curl itself around the pole. Vada’s mother was propelled to the right, her left arm bending painfully over her head. Her hips were stretched over the middle console of the car, and when her legs collided with it, both of her femurs snapped from the force.

She shrieked in agony, a high-pitched and un-human sound. She then blacked out from the height of the pain and fell to the right like a wet noodle. Her hands fell into Vada’s lap, her hair splayed out to the side.

Vada, over in the passenger seat, had smacked her head so forcefully against the window that she went clean through it. She hung half out of the window, her neck bent downwards at an uncomfortable angle. Blood from the wound on her head dripped down onto the concrete.

As quickly and as loudly as it all happened, it was over. Silent.

Thankfully, they had crashed across the street from an ice cream shop. It was late enough at night and cold enough in weather that there was no legitimate reason for anyone to be in or near an ice cream shop, but leave it to teenagers.

Paramedics were called, and Vada and her mother were painfully untangled from the wreckage of their dear Supra.

For a moment, it looked like everything would somehow turn out to be okay. They both would heal from their injuries. Maybe go to therapy if Vada turned out to have nightmares. They’d click their tongues and swallow bile when they drove past the spot in their new car, probably another Supra.

Then Vada’s mother’s heart stopped in the ambulance.

They pronounced her dead due to cardiac arrest. The physical and emotional stress was simply too much.

Vada spent most of her teenage life wishing she had died alongside her mother. She strongly believed something had gone wrong and her mother had been chosen by mistake.

Her mother was the type of woman who knew everybody. She waved to strangers, she gave money to homeless people in medians, she’d crouch to greet passing dogs on the street. She was a beautiful, happy ray of sunshine.

As Vada grew older, she tried to put the accident behind her. She had a couple constant reminders: The staples in her scalp and an elbow that never worked quite right.

She struggled with conflicting feelings about the accident. They kept her up at night. A girl in high school once spat the word, “murderer” in her face. It stayed stuck in her mind, festering.

Sometimes she was angry at her mother for taking her hands off the wheel. She truly would always hate a little bit of herself for choosing to shove her mother in that moment when she didn’t have the security of something to hold onto.

Vada wanted to erase the trauma from her mind. She wished to pretend like she lost her mother in a completely normal and non-traumatic way.

When she told her therapist this fantasy, he pursed his lips and said, “Is there actually any type of death out there that’s not traumatic?”

Vada never stopped thinking about that.

When she went to college, it was a different level of escape. No one from high school went with her, and if they did, she never saw them. There was no one that knew of the sad, sad way Vada King lost her mother, and at such a young age too. No one pitied her with tilted heads and pouting lips. Unless she told them about it. Which she didn’t.

There was constantly something occupying her mind. She didn’t have time to think about her mother’s laugh, or how their twisted Supra looked in pictures.

She was an excellent student and fairly social as well. She had a goal in life, and was determined to achieve it.

Despite this determination, her senior year was rough. Doubt regarding her plans in life began to creep in. She started to not know what she wanted to do with her future. The space in her life where her mother fit in felt emptier than ever.

Then, she met Toby. He was a soccer player and a biology major. He had a persistent cowlick at the back of his blonde head, and a seemingly permanent sunburn across his nose. Vada didn’t like to admit how much she liked Toby just from the beginning, but Toby kept seeking her out by himself. He’d invite her to parties and when he learned that Vada despised parties, he set up picnic dates, and walked along campus.

Soon, they were dating steadily and Vada was comfortable and happy. Toby asked about Vada’s parents and she could hear the alarm bells ringing inside of her head. They screamed, “You’ve pushed this down for a reason, Vada! Don’t tell him, Vada! He’ll use it against you!”

But as Vada looked at Toby’s softening eyes and kind, kind face, she knew he was the right person to finally be letting this out to.

So they sat for about 2 hours while Vada told Toby the story of her mother. The good, the bad, and finally, the end. She cried and laughed, and Toby cried and laughed.

That night, Vada told Toby she loved him.

Vada graduated college with a degree in psychology, just as she dreamed. She and Toby dated for a year and a half before getting married.

Vada could never bring herself to leave the state her mother was buried in. It felt like severing a limb. Toby gratefully understood, and bought them a house in a charming neighborhood that was 25 minutes away from the cemetery.

They lived like that for 3 years. Happy, in love, young. Toby did good work as a biologist and Vada was content with her job at a successful clinic, maintaining a respectable role.

Vada became pregnant 3 and a half years after she married Toby. She found out in her master bathroom on a Saturday morning. Toby was watching a soccer game in the living room when Vada crept downstairs and wordlessly sat next to him on the couch.

She waited until a commercial break before slowly placing the positive pregnancy test in Toby’s lap.

He did a double take and slowly all of the color drained out of his face. Vada’s smile dropped as she began to fear his reaction. His eyes and mouth made 3 perfect circles as he picked up the test and stared at the two pink lines. He held it unreasonably close to his eyes, and at first Vada thought he must be being funny. She let out a dry chuckle but his face remained pale.

“Is this real?” He asked, his voice cautious. He reached for the remote and shut off the TV. A little bit of anger flared deep within Vada. Why wasn’t he jumping up and down with unconditional joy?

“Yes, Toby. This is real.”

Toby set down the test and ran both hands through his hair then down his face. Vada felt a small pang of love when his cowlick snapped right back up after his hands left his hair.

“I just- I-”

Vada peered at him, starting to get more annoyed. “Toby? I mean, are you happy?”

Finally some blush appeared on his cheeks, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Vada. Are you kidding me?” Toby stood up, pulling her up with him. “I’m sorry. I-I just got speechless for a second. You see, I never thought I’d get to do this. I honestly didn’t know it was something I really wanted. Until… right now. I want this. With you.” He was talking fast and stopped to take a breath. Vada met his eyes and found love, love, and nothing more. Her anger was snuffed out.

As if it finally hit him, Toby pumped his fists in the air and tackled Vada in a hug. She felt overwhelming happiness and comfort. She found security in the hug they were tangled in, while Toby mumbled things about babyproofing their home.

While she was in his arms, spinning circles and doing loop-de-loops but stationary at the same time, she couldn’t help but think that this was the happiest she’d ever been.

Vada’s pregnancy was an average one. She was immensely grateful for this. Her mom friend, Chelsea, who lived 4 doors down, complained of how horrid her first pregnancy was. This made Vada extremely anxious which made Toby a certified hater of Chelsea.

Vada gave birth to her daughter at 4:06a.m. in the middle of June. As the nurses cleaned and swaddled her, Vada’s fingers itched to hold her tiny body.

When Vada finally hugged her close to her chest, tears poured down her face. Some immensely happy, and some devastated. She had a daughter, yet Vada’s own mother would never get to meet her.

Toby and Vada took their daughter home 2 days later and once home, Toby carried the baby around the whole house, narrating every part of the tour.

She grew up a happy child. She was curious and unbothered. Animals fascinated her and she was repulsed by carrots. Vada and Toby’s marriage stayed strong and fresh. Vada thought it was because their daughter only brought out more admiration between them.

When Vada’s daughter was 6 years old, Toby got a job offer across the country.

Their mortgage was steadily increasing and their child was steadily growing. Recently, there were more bills on the dining room table than paychecks, and the guarantee of better money was less of a choice and more of a lifeline.

Soon, the house was packed into boxes and the family spent their last week sleeping in sleeping bags and eating takeout on the floor.

Moving day came, and as men who smelled faintly of weed loaded boxes into a moving truck, Vada got hit with a realization. She grabbed her daughter's hand, pulling her from her watching post, to outside where Toby stood.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Toby asked, after seeing the alarm on Vada’s face. He rested a hand on his daughter’s blonde head as Vada stood on her tiptoes to whisper a question into Toby’s ear.

He simply said, “Yes.”

The family piled into their SUV and sped away. Their daughter didn’t speak the whole ride to the cemetery, as if she knew that now was a better time than any to be solemn. Toby parked and they got out slowly.

It felt as if a cold and heavy hand had closed its fist around Vada’s heart as she spotted her mother’s headstone under the willow tree near the back row.

The three of them made their way back there, taking slow and careful steps. It always turned Vada’s stomach to think that the mounds they were stepping over were freshly buried bodies. Not even skeletons.

As they came upon her mother’s grave, Vada wiped away a tear. She didn’t want to let her daughter see. This wasn’t her moment, it was her daughter’s.

“Honey,” Vada took her child’s hands, pulling her towards her. For a moment, Vada couldn’t speak. She could feel Toby crouched beside her, staring at her mother’s headstone. She’s only taken him here once before. “This is where my mother is buried. Do you remember how I told you she passed away?” Vada said, willing her voice not to crack.

Her daughter nodded, her shiny blonde hair bobbing with the movement.

“Good, good.” Vada took a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. “Now, can you read me the words on the stone?”

Vada’s daughter turned to the headstone, hugging the stuffed dog she’d brought along a little tighter.

Her sweet, high voice broke the heavy silence that hung around in the air of the sunny day.

“Holly Lauren King,” she read. “Beloved mother, daughter, and granddaughter.”

Tears now flowed freely down Vada’s face. She waited for her daughter to turn.

She did. A wide smile on her face. Dimples and baby teeth. A bit of chocolate from lunch on the corner of her mouth. Vada fought a sob as she saw a glimpse of her mother in that smile.

“Your mommy’s name was Holly?” She asked.

Vada couldn’t move. Toby wrapped an arm around her. “Yes baby, it was.” He said.

“And my name is Holly! My name is Holly Lauren!” Vada’s daughter, Holly, looked happy enough to start jumping up and down. It felt like a remedy to the deep sadness embedded in Vada.

“Yes it is, baby. Yes it is.” Toby laughed. Vada laughed with him, just to try out the sound.

“Now, my girls. Let’s go. We’ve got a flight to catch.” He said.

Vada scooped her child up into her arms, hugging her tight enough to stop her airflow, but Holly didn’t complain.

As they drove out of the cemetery, Vada said a silent goodbye to her mother, hoping that this distance she was creating between them didn’t stop her from always feeling close to her.

Toby pulled their SUV onto the highway, and suddenly Vada felt the same thing she did all those years ago: a sudden, unstoppable acceleration. Only this time, she wasn’t afraid.