In an Instant(13)

As soon as she is free, she crawls past him to the cab. Kyle follows.

When she sees me, she cries out and falls backward. Kyle catches her and turns her away, pulling her face to his chest as he tries to lead her back into the trailer. But she refuses. Pushing from his grip, she crawls forward again and takes my hand. Her lips move quietly, talking to me as tears run down her cheeks, and already I miss her so much it’s as if my heart is being torn in two, and I cry with her, wishing desperately for this not to be happening.

Chloe’s eyes are open now, and she has taken the scarf from Vance and now holds it to the wound herself as she stares, dazed, at the scene around her. She looks at my dad beside her, then glances toward the cab, and tears fill her eyes. Her jaw trembles, and I watch as she slides it forward to stop its quiver.

Bingo yips, and Chloe looks up at him. “Vance, help Bingo,” she manages.

Vance wrestles the dog from Oz’s grip, causing Oz to scream even louder, his face ham red from his tantrum and from hanging upside down.

Kyle stares at Oz, and I feel how much he wants to release him, his jaw clenching and his muscles coiled with his desire to help.

“What do you think?” my mom says to Uncle Bob, who squats beside my dad examining his wounds.

Uncle Bob’s eyes flick back and forth, and it’s obvious he has no idea how to deal with the injuries in front of him. He is a dentist, not a doctor, a specialist in cosmetic repairs, and what he’s looking at has nothing to do with teeth whitening or veneers. But after a telling momentary pause, he says, almost convincingly, “We need to set the leg and stop the bleeding.”

I can’t be certain if it’s ego or strength that causes his bluff: whether he’s too arrogant to admit he doesn’t have a clue or whether he’s protecting the women from worry. Either way, I am grateful for the latter, his confidence calming, and even Oz stops screaming and now merely hangs and whimpers.

Behind them, Natalie and Aunt Karen huddle tighter, both having begun to shiver. Mo shivers as well, and I want to tell her to move to the back, where it is warmer, but she continues to sit beside me, holding my hand and crying.

Nothing that I want to be happening is happening, and all I can do is watch. It’s the most frustrating, awful thing in the world. Please, I beg, help them. But if there is a God in this new world, he is as invisible as when I was mortal, and there is no answer whatsoever to my plea. Mo, move to the back.

Mo remains oblivious, but Kyle reacts. I’m not certain if it’s because he hears me or if it’s only that he realizes he can do something useful. Whatever the reason, mercifully, he crawls forward and gently leads Mo away from my body and the swirling, freezing wind.

My dad screams as Uncle Bob pulls on his mangled leg to straighten it, causing Uncle Bob to release it, his false bluster dissolved instantly into panic. “Maybe it’s better if we leave it,” he stammers, the truth plain for all of them to see. He makes his living making people’s smiles pretty and is no better equipped to deal with this than any of the rest of them.





7

When the initial shock wears off, reality sets in. They are stranded in a blizzard miles from help. I am dead. My dad is in bad shape. Uncle Bob has an injured left ankle, and Chloe needs stitches. These are the wounds that can be seen.

More frightening than the injuries are the cold and wind blasting through the windshield. Kyle and Oz are dressed best for the weather, both in full outdoor gear with snow boots and gloves. Mo is dressed the worst, her thin wool jacket, torn jeans, and designer boots useless against the cold. She shivers in the back beside Aunt Karen and Natalie. Mother and daughter hold each other tight, Natalie whimpering, Aunt Karen shushing her and telling her it’s going to be all right.

“What’s the plan?” Vance says. “Who’s going for help?”

Everyone looks at my mom, but it’s my dad who speaks through clenched teeth. “No one. We need to stay put until morning.”

Panic shudders through each person in turn. It’s not even seven, morning at least twelve hours away.

“No fucking way,” Vance says.

Aunt Karen speaks up. “I don’t think we can wait that long. It’s freezing.”

“We have to,” my dad says, shivering more from pain than cold. “It’s pitch black and blizzarding. Walk out in that, and you won’t know which way is up.”

“Up is the opposite of down,” Vance says. “And there’s no fucking way I’m staying out here all night.”

“Vance, Jack is right,” my mom says. “We need to wait until it’s light.”

“I’m hungry,” Oz says, still hanging from his seat.

“Oz, you need to wait,” my mom answers absently.

“You promised pancakes.”

This time she simply ignores him.

“Pancakes!”

Ignoring Oz doesn’t work.

Vance pulls on his hat. “You want to stay here, that’s your business. I’m going for help. Chloe, you coming?”

Chloe’s face is striped with blood, and she still holds my mom’s scarf to her wound. Her eyes dart from Vance to the others and back again.

“No, Chloe’s staying here,” my mom says. “And Vance, so are you. Jack’s right. We need to wait until morning.”

“Chloe?” Vance challenges, his nose flaring and his eyes squinted in defiance.