DRIVER, part 3 of 3

Her voluminous hair turned over and she smiled for a cellular second then went back to my blood pressure and quietly muttered without looking into my eyes, “Rosemary. That was quite a scene out there. What exactly…”

I had to interrupt her. “I like that name. I have an Aunt named Roseanne and I always said if I ever have a girl, heaven help me and my wife, but if I did I’d give her some sort of Rose combination. Maybe it would help with my karma giving her such a nice name. So Rosemary, how’s everything looking?”

She adjusted a stethoscope and had turned her pen flash light on and looked back at my face. “We’ll let you know in a minute, can you extend your arms?”

I obliged her request. My right side was a little sore and there were still airbag particles deposited in my face, but overall the pain hadn’t been much and unnoticed like my last cigarette running down the drain.

“Do you have any pain, any headache or feeling internally like you’ve struck something hard? I mean that whole scene out there looked so…”

Besides my sinking heart and soul and desire to be in this world of men…“No, not really. Just more shook up than anything. They really make those airbags efficient.”

“Good. Now just follow this light with your eye. Sure. Good. Alright, yeah, everything seems fine. I mean physically it seems fine, but are you sure you’re okay after seeing all of that?”

Maybe I looked guiltier than I felt, or the reverse. Maybe they already had me read. Maybe there was nothing to read. Maybe she was trying to lend out her heart for a second to a total stranger who had just ended the life of another individual. Maybe I just wanted to get as far away from this scene as hastily as possible.

“Well, the pen light has been a pleasure and all. Thank you for your help Rosemary. And don’t you worry about me, nothing out there is worse than anything going on inside here.” I pointed to my head and chuckled at her without making any eye contact and jumped from the elevated examination table onto the floor of the ambulance.

I nodded and that was all the consent she needed. Pocket pen light returned to her breast compartment and she brought out a pad of legal jargon with an X and a dotted line and informed me what it was to be signing out on my own free will. I might have been in the ambulance for a minute and a half before my John Hancock had splattered her 100% GUARANTEED government sealed documents.

The air in the medical minivan became saturated with unsettling spells of doom and death and I was feeling like an ostracized enemy of the state and the increasing density was making me more uneasy and I was unsure that another cigarette would be a good idea. She probably didn’t understand what I had meant by the hand gesture and the laugh, because I sure as hell didn’t. I might drown.

I walked out with my eyes stretched upwards.

Even the worst criminals are allotted a phone call. I left the ambulance and walked between the lock jawed civil servants over to soccer mom, still jabbering away on the sidelines at hubby like a crack addled assistant coach. My stare caught her for not more than three seconds and she handed the phone back without saying another word, at least that I would ever hear again.

The buttons beeped and the polyurethane felt like my third grade flip up desk with pre arranged color pencil and marker sections, stacked above color coded folders and hand me down parochial grammar school textbooks that taught us about life and death. I had entered my ancestral youth for a moment and smiled infinitesimally just before the voice on the other end.

“Jack. Jack yea it’s Raleigh. Yeah man, no not really, I know I owe you forty bucks for the last Sunday of the season still, yea I know you asshole but things are kind of fucked up right now, like actually fucked up like you need to shut the fuck up and listen fucked up.”

The opposite end of the phone hummed and provided a comfortable static texture for me to set my speech up for my brother. “What do you mean?”

“I mean fucked up.”

“Well fucking talk then. Are you all good, physically and shit? What happened?”

“I’m not so much concerned for my own good health as I am for the fucking headless corpse my car just ran into and the fucking buffet of class A through C substances stuck to my lipid layers and keratin highways and everything else. But what’s making me really not good is the rail of blow I sent down my sinus this morning and the several hits of piff that I ripped away about twenty minutes before Jesus knows who decided to fling themselves off the hood of the Chevy. Fucking flew across Laverne’s windshield and dead on the spot and I ran into a tree at the same time.”

Not to mention 500 or 700 or maybe 1000 mgs of vicodin was wearing off and I was irritated by a lack of TV dinner cardboard wrappers and cold, domestic light beers and burnt out roaches on my kitchen table.

“Alright man, that’s pretty heavy shit, but its just shit and you need to chill out if you can. Did the guy just commit suicide on your fucking car? I don’t get it dude.”

“I don’t know if it was a guy or a girl or what but they ended somewhere off the side of my windshield, yeah. I was turning though and I was fucking distracted and I feel like I might have just shifted and popped the curb and honestly I’m so fucking strung out. It’s Friday and I have no opiates left in my brain and I’ve been working 65 hour weeks and I’m just fucked up dude. Nothing about this should be happening. I need to just book it.”

“No Raleigh, you’re not running anywhere. I’m headed for the door right now. I’ll call in for work tonight. Don’t get too sideways man, I’ll be at breakneck fucking speed.”

“ I just don’t want to have to start answering questions. Didn’t Neil Davis have to get a good ass attorney when he got picked up with that quarter pound? That rich fucking jew bastard. He’s still roaming the streets.” I noticed one of the police officers had inched his county issued uniform within an earshot, behind me, and was suddenly privy to a variety of information that I had not wanted the state to be in tune to.

“It will all be alright. I’ll be there soon and take care of everything. Just stay put and act stupid and hurt and fucking let them do the talking. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

I turned over and knew there was only one way out. “Hey John, I love you brother. Thank you. Wait. Alright this officer wants to talk to you.” I said officer because it would make it seem like the cop was already near the phone.

“Anything man. Alright brother put him on. I’ll be moving and talking. We’ll get through this.”

I handed the police officer the phone and explained my father wanted to talk with him before I gave any kind of statement and I asked for my keys back. He took the flip up and didn’t think twice and I walked forty or fifty paces away from him and towards my car and put the keys in the ignition and destroyed my way off into eternity, like the ones before me.


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