The flash

“You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Henderson.” They all told me that. Every doctor, nurse, and specialist that came into my hospital room. God, I remember that much. And they weren’t wrong; I had flew right out of the windshield of my buddy Dave’s car. I hardly remember the night or the accident, but I know we had been drinking and he was driving. We crashed into another driver at an intersection. No one else survived. I remember waking up the next morning to the beeping of a heart monitor. I remember the look on my wife Rachel’s face, her eyes swollen and red from crying, and her telling me over and over again how she thought she was going to lose me. She wasn’t in the car with us, and I was thankful for that because that’s the day she told me she was pregnant with our first. I truly was lucky to be alive, and I swore up and down to her that day that I was going to be the husband she deserved. We had hardly been married a year at that point and I had already messed up so much, but that day I changed. 

I made it my life goal for Rachel to always know how much I loved and appreciated her. I went out on less guy’s nights and let her go out for more girl’s nights. I helped clean the house and cooked dinner on days she worked late. When our second child was born, I took time off work to be with her and help her. When a promotion for her meant more hours, I quit my job to stay home with the kids while she built her career. And I loved every minute of it. Watching the kids grow up into people gave me so much joy. I knew how lucky I was but when Rachel would come home after a long day to a hot meal waiting on the table for her and hearing her say “How did I get so lucky, Shawn?” nothing beats that. My family meant the world to me, and anything I could do to make their lives better made me happy.

When the kids, Leah and Robbie, got a bit older and both were in elementary school, I decided it was time for me to go back to work. I took a job in construction, building things with my hands, work I could be proud of. It paid off, too, because over the years I was able to renovate our own home. It was a slow process, doing it myself, one room at a time. At one point, I was sure Rachel was going to divorce me when the back patio project took a bit longer than I had anticipated and left us without a back door for a couple weeks, but she sure has enjoyed the backyard since then. Their smiles were all I needed to keep going with these projects. Leah got her own en-suite bathroom, for Robbie, a gaming den in the basement, and Rachel had her dream kitchen. Ten years after we bought the house, it looked completely different. I was proud of the life, the family, and the home I had built.

I truly was the luckiest man alive. Or so I thought, until the headaches started.

The first one happened one evening when I was making dinner. It was just Robbie and I home; Rachel was working late and Leah was at rehearsals for her high school’s play. I was making my famous Coq au Vin, a dish that took a while to prepare, since I had the extra time. Robbie was sitting at the island doing his homework so he had to witness the whole thing. I had turned on the oven light so I could take a peek inside, which I guess triggered it. I remember thinking the light was so bright, brighter than usual. And then, nothing. I blacked out. It was only for a couple minutes, but it was enough to spook poor Robbie. I could hear him shouting “Dad! Dad!” I got up off the floor, and reassured him that I was okay. Later, during dinner, when we were discussing what had happened, I could see that Rachel was concerned. She wanted me to go see the doctor, but I insisted I was fine. She made the kids and I promise that if this ever happened again, we’d call an ambulance or at least make a doctor’s appointment.

The second time it happened, it was maybe about six weeks later. I was at a job site and a co-worker turned on a flood light. I could see it getting brighter and this time, I heard a blaring noise, but couldn’t make out where it was coming from. Everything went black and I could hear him shouting my name. He told me I was out for only around five or ten minutes. Again, I insisted I was fine but my boss gave the rest of the day off anyway and told me to take the following day, too if I needed it. Not wanting to worry Rachel, I chose not to tell her about it and like an idiot, I didn’t make a doctor’s appointment. I went to work the next day and felt great. 

It was a few months before it happened again, and this time I couldn’t hide it from Rachel because she was there when it happened. It was late, the kids were in bed, and Rachel and I were in the living room. We had just finished watching a movie and she got up to turn on the lamp. I could hear her talking about the movie, but I was fixated by the light. It got brighter and I was trying to figure out if it had just moved or if it was my imagination when the noise started. “What is that noise?” I tried to ask her, but I don’t know if all the words came out before it all went black again. When I came back to, Rachel was already on the phone with an ambulance dispatcher. I managed to calm her down enough to agree that the ambulance wasn’t necessary, on the condition that I would call our doctor the next morning to make an appointment. Luckily the dispatcher was on my side, or else I don’t think she would have went for it. As promised, I called to make an appointment first thing the next morning. It was scheduled for less than a week away, but I didn’t make it until then before it happened for the last time. 

All I remember is waking up in the middle of the road and not being able to see anything except bright headlights from a car. My ears were ringing and the sound of the car horn was fading in and out. I think I heard an ambulance siren and someone calling my name before blacking out again, but it was hard to be sure. 

When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed. There was a woman sitting in a chair who looked angry, or maybe annoyed, and it wasn’t until she spoke that I even realised it was Rachel. She looked different, her hair was darker, and shorter. I thought I must have been in a coma for a while and she let her roots grow in. “Welcome back.” she told me, but her welcome didn’t sound warm. I asked her if I had been in a coma and she laughed a little before quickly suppressing it. “No, Shawn, you were not in a coma.”

“Ah, Mr. Henderson, there you are!” a nurse bustled into the room. “I hope you’ll stay with us this time.”

“What?” I looked at Rachel, who just stared at me, emotionless.

“You’ve been in and out – mostly out – of consciousness for a few hours now,” the nurse explained. “Your wife is a lucky lady to still have you here!”

“The luckiest girl alive.” Rachel responded, dead-panned.

The nurse didn’t seem to notice Rachel’s lack of enthusiasm and went on to tell me that there were no broken bones or anything major beyond some bruising and I could likely go home the following morning. 

Going home is when things really started to not make sense. For one, none of the renovations were done. It was like it was when we first bought it, which prompted me to ask Rachel if I had a job. “You’re joking, right?” she laughed but didn’t answer the question. 

I was starting to wonder if I had somehow traveled back in time, but my hypothesis was debunked when Robbie came in the front door. He looked about the same as I remembered, except that there was about another twenty pounds of him. He asked Rachel if she could drive him to hockey practice. “You play hockey?” I asked him. 

“Uh… yeah. Mom told me about your accident but said you were okay. You don’t have amnesia or anything, do you?”

“No, no, not to worry, Robbie. I’m doing fine. Just a little fuzzy.” 

“Cool,” he nodded. “It’s just ‘Rob’ now, though. Mom, are you ready to go? I’m going to be late!”

“Where is your sister?” I asked, but quickly remembered she probably had rehearsals.

“Who knows?” Rachel sighed. “Probably off with that scumbag boyfriend of hers again. I hate that kid’s face! He’s such a loser, I don’t know what she even sees in him. Let’s go, Rob.”

“Boyfriend… boyfriend?” I mumbled to myself as the door closed behind them, leaving me behind in a house that didn’t feel like my own. What kind of alternate reality am I in? Am I dreaming? Is this a prank? When no one came out from behind a fake wall with cameras, I decided that it was not, in fact, a prank and that I needed to look to information, clues, something to tell me just what in the heck was going on here.

It was getting dark, and I hadn’t found anything except our legitimate birth certificates, tucked away in an old photo album. Some memories I had, and others I didn’t. I decided to cook up a quick pasta for everyone, but Rachel and Robbie, or Rob, stopped for burgers on their way home and Leah didn’t get in until hours later. When I asked her where she’d been she just gave me a look and went upstairs.

“Why didn’t you back me up?” I asked Rachel.

“It’s not worth the energy to argue with her.” She responded, without looking up from her phone.

I went for a walk to try to clear my head, which didn’t work, and when I came back, Rachel was already in bed. I don’t know if she was sleeping or just pretending to not notice when I slid under the blanket beside her and said goodnight.

In the morning, I got up before everyone else, and made breakfast. A feeble attempt to make things normal. Robbie, or Rob was the only one who seemed to appreciate it. “Oh, sweet!” he said, loading a plate with enough bacon, eggs and pancakes to feed an orphanage. Leah nibbled on a piece of toast, and Rachel just sipped her coffee, looking unimpressed.

“Okay, off to school. I can’t drive you today; I have a meeting.”

“Ugh, again, mom?” Leah whined. “I hate public transit! People who take the bus are disgusting!”

“If you want me to take you, then we have to leave now.”

“I can take you,” I offered, feeling semi confident in my ability to drive during my current confused state.

“Uh, how are you going to drive if mom has the car?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

I hadn’t given any thought about whether I still had my truck. Trying to ignore her attitude, I changed the subject. “So when is your play? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

“What play?”

“The one you’re in at school. What is it again? Annie? Or was that last year? It’s Matilda this year, right?”

“Ew, you mean the school’s stupid play? I know you, like, hit your head or whatever, but you seriously thought I’m one of those theatre nerd kids?” She tossed her half eaten toast on the table and walked away. “I’ll be in the car.”

“Good one, dad!” Rob[bie] said, shovelling the rest of what was on his plate into his mouth with a fork. 

“You get in the car, too.” Rachel told him, pouring her coffee into a travel mug.

Rob[bie] grabbed his backpack and headed out. “Wait,” I called after Rachel before she left the room. “What is happening here? Everything is different but no one else seems to think so, and… and… you don’t even seem upset that I was just in an accident!”

She rolled her eyes. “Upset? I was upset the first time, Shawn. But I’m onto you now. If you want to leave this family, then do it, but don’t tell me that I’m the one who’s different, and for God’s sake, don’t be such a coward!”

“What are you talking about?” Now I was really confused. “What do you mean ‘the first time?’ When I was in the accident with Dave, before the kids?”

“You weren’t in an accident before the kids were born. Oh my god, I can’t do this again, right now, I’m going to be late.” She turned to leave, but I grabbed her arm. 

“Tell me!” I demanded.

“You really don’t really don’t remember?” she scoffed. I loosened my grip and she jerked away from me. “A couple months ago you started talking about “going back” and drove our car into a tree. Seemed like an accident at the time, but now I can see you were really trying to off yourself. Pretty sure that’s what this is all about now, too.”

I just blinked at her. I didn’t know what to say, or think.

She straightened her jacket and lifted her purse over her shoulder. “Look, Shawn, I don’t know what’s going on with you and frankly, I just don’t have the energy anymore. You need to get help. You think you aren’t where you’re supposed to be, and I get that, I do. But you have to accept that this is your life, and it’s what you make it." She sighed heavily, and I could feel her exasperation. "I don’t want you here anymore," she continued. "Please pack your things up; I have a really long day today, and I don’t want to see you here when I get home. I don’t care where you go, I don’t care if you kill yourself, I just want you gone.” And that was it, just like that she walked out the door, I heard the car start and drive away.

I stood there. I don’t know for how long, trying to process what little information I had from that brief interaction. I couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it, but I knew one thing for certain; I had to get back to Rachel, my Rachel, and my family.