Promises
“Good morning, love.” he greets me, as his eyes dart quickly between me and the road. “Hmmm… What time is it ?”, I mumble, as its still too dark outside for my liking. “Around 2 AM, we are still a good seven hours from Seattle.” he says, smothering a yawn that was threatening to break out. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart, I’ll wake you when we get there.” “You sure ? I don’t want to end up in a ditch because you were too tired to drive.” I retort, a hint of teasing, a hint of worry in my voice. He smiles, the kind of smile that always turns me to mush, and replies, “I’ll make sure you get to Seattle. Its the promise of a lifetime.” I beam back at him, and close my eyes as I wait for sleep to reclaim me.
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I am startled awake by a sudden swerve, my head snapping sideways. I hear Victor curse out loud even before I open my eyes and see his worried face. I try to make sense of what is happening, but the car is swerving, going sideways, which I had always believed to be a movie gimmick. I can see Victor trying to regain control of the car, sweat dripping from his face. Now I know what they meant when they said time slows down when there is a rush of adrenaline. I am frightened beyond wit, waking up suddenly to such a scene. Victor, who somehow sensed me awake (I still don’t know how he does that), turns to me and says, “Trust in me. I‘ll keep you safe.“. I do, with all my life.
This all happens within the span of a few seconds, as we tumble off the road. The car starts spinning as it hits the slope on the side of the road, and I muse inwardly if this is how clothes in a washer feel like. I brace myself as best as I can, curling into as small a ball as I can, but my gut tells me it won’t be enough. A few tears leak out of the corners of my eyes, as I close my eyes and start praying, the inevitability of the conclusion setting in. All of a sudden, we crash against something real hard and come to a halt, the roof of the car caving in and the windows shattering. Mercifully, my head hits hard against something and dark abyss that is unconciousness welcomes me gleefully.
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‘Where am I ? What happened ?’. These are my first thoughts as I drift into consciousness, before getting replaced by completely and utterly overpowering pain. I let out a strangled moan, before glancing down at my stomach. Bile rises through my throat as I see a rod piercing through what used to be my stomach. I feel numb, as I start going into shock. The analytical part of my brain is running a mile a minute, trying to prove to my heart that I am dying, while my heart refuses to listen and remains optimistic that I will somehow make it out of this. A rustling sound at the fringes of my vision makes me slowly turn towards the source of the noise. I see Victor hammering against the passenger door, trying to get to me. Finally succeeding, he pulls out the entire caved-in door with a grunt, falling to the ground along with it. I open my mouth to call out to him, before closing it as pain strikes parts of me I never knew existed. He crawls up to me, trying to unbuckle the seatbelt which holds me to the seat, and the rod through my stomach. “Vic..”, I gasp out, as he turns his worried eyes to me. “Honey, its going to be all right. I’ve called 911, and they are on their way right now. I would pull the rod out, but its the only thing stopping you from bleeding to death. Just stay strong for me, sweetheart.”, Victor assures me, running his fingers over my forehead lovingly. He pulls out a towel and wraps that tightly around my hand, which had been bleeding heavily. I hadn’t even noticed.
“You…”, I get out, hoping that the question is evident my garbled tone. “I’m fine, I got thrown clean out, just a few grazes and bruises. I’m worried about you.” he replies, brushing off my worry. I try to glance down at his body, to make sure he’s not lying, but the effort it takes is too much. My head starts swimming, and I drift back out of consciousness even as I hear Victor’s voice in the distance, my heart optimistic that Victor would take care of everything.
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My eyes open with a start and I let out a gasp, hungrily drinking in the air. I see a bright light above me, and I see unfriendly, generic faces all around me. My fingers tingle as electricity courses through me, even as I make out some words about someone being back. I try to make out where I am, and how I got here, but my memory is extremely fuzzy. I remember my marriage, and some car, but I my heart tells me I am forgetting something important. The faces above me seem to be talking to me, but everything sounds warbled. I can’t figure out whats going on. I see them turn back and shout at someone, and I try to peer, but my body hurts, and I lie back on the table. Words finally start making sense at this point.
“Sir, if you are not hurt, could you please stay out of our way ? We need all of us to ensure she remains alive. Even the slightest mistake could cost fatal. I know you are worried, but this is for her sake.” the white man tells someone. I wonder who’s in danger, and who they are talking to. “I know, I know. I just…, I wanted to see her just once more.” I hear the man despondent reply, and my heart goes aflutter as it recognizes the voice. Victor. Memories rush in, as I remember the accident. I look to see them operating on me, but I don’t feel any pain. I assume I am under anesthesia. The place seems cramped, as if I am in an ambulance. Victor, my brains tells me to focus again. I hope he’s ok. I wonder why I have a sinking feeling in my gut, as I try to tell the white people that I want to see him. My mouth moves, but I can’t get any words out.
The doctors see my mouth moving, and assume I am in pain. I try to tell them I am not, but they stick a needle in my arm. I try to mouth out Victor, but my eyes shut and I drift back into unconciousness before I even finish.
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I wake up to a steady, rhythmic beeping. I keep my eyes closed, as I take in a deep breath. It smells sterile. Artificial. Nasty. Victor always hated this smell, he preferred the outdoors. I open my eyes and glance around. I seem to be in some sort of hospital, with all kinds of drips and IVs attached to my hands. I see a flurry of activity as a nurse rushes in, realizing that I am awake. I try to ask her where I am, and where Victor is, but my throat is dry and parched. I break out into coughs instead. She helps me up to a sitting position, and places a glass of water in my hands. I greedily gulp it down, the water seeming nectarine to my parched throat. “Where ?”, I finally get out to the nurse who is checking me over. “You are in the University of Washington Medical Center, darling. We thought for a few moments that you wouldn’t make it, but you pulled through against all odds. You are one lucky girl.” The nurse responds, scribbling down something in her chart all the time.
Luck had nothing to do with it. Victor was the one who made the call. He was the one who ensured I would make it till the doctors arrived. I wonder how he is, and why he wasn’t around. Maybe he was hurt worse. Realizing that my thoughts are taking a depressing turn and that it would be easier to just ask and find out, I do so. “Victor ?” I ask the nurse. She just looks at me questioningly, puzzled at the sudden name I get out. She grows silent at that, and just responds that she is going to get the doctor before she leaves, never replying to my question. My heart starts beating faster, wondering why she didn’t respond, my brain thinking up worse and worse situations, from him being injured to losing limbs to being in a coma. The doctor enters before I start hyperventilating.
I look at him beseechingly, but he doesn’t meet my eyes and looks down. “Victor ?” I ask again, wanting to hear a reply, needing it desperately. “I’m sorry.”, he responds desolately. My ears can’t believe it, my heart needing it to be a mistake of some sort. He was fine, wasn’t he ? He said he just had some grazes. What could have happened ? “He was the one who called us, and being in the middle of nowhere, we were only able to get one ambulance out there. We saw your critical condition, and realized that we had to operate on you on the spot in order to stabilize your condition. Your boyfriend..” “Husband” I interrupted him, my ears still not believing what was being said. “Sorry. Your husband said that he was fine and did not need any attention, wanting the paramedics to focus on stabilizing you. We were able to after 30 intensive minutes. We only realized afterwards that he was covering up a serious internal injury so that you would be attended to first and with complete focus. There was nothing we could do at that point. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone for a bit”. With that, the doctor walked away, leaving her to her desolate thoughts.
That fool. That absolute bastard. Anger was the first reaction I had, coursing through my veins like fire. How dare he ? What gave him the right to make that decision. But that anger left as quickly as it came. Sagging, I lie back against the bed, tears finally starting to leak out as I accepted the situation. Memories of our whirlwind marriage, our romance, the joyous times flow through my head, his ever smiling face being present in each one. The car ride to Seattle, oh, why had we ever picked to go there. Why couldn’t we have flown. So many what ifs ? But nothing could ever change. Victor was gone. And for what ? And why ? Why did he have to do that ? And suddenly, a conversation flew through her head. “I’ll make sure you get to Seattle. Its the promise of a lifetime.” She could remember his smiling voice telling her, even as she had blushed back then. She broke down into dry, heaving sobs as she cursed and thanked the bloody smiling fool who she had married, the one who kept his promises even at the cost of his life.
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#1 by Mike on July 16th, 2009
I liked this. I was half-expecting Victor to be a ghost after the crash (thinking that he’d died instantly in the car crash).
The most important piece you captured, in my opinion, was the mix of emotions after “Sweetheart” found out he died–this felt very real to me. Thanks for sharing.
#2 by V on July 21st, 2009
How did you “dream” this one up
?