Susan- a short story

Unsure of which would be more deafening, the 15-minute lecture she was about to get from her mother as she tore from room to room to finish her packing, or the silence that would follow after she and Dad left for the theater-- Susan opted to be proactive. She went to her record collection to find something to listen to while she worked on her homework. After some thoughtful consideration, Elton John won her heart, as he often did with his upbeat tempos and whimsical tunes. 

She’d finally saved up enough babysitting money to get his latest record and she was looking forward to listening to the entire thing from start to finish. That would need to wait though. Susan knew if she started with side A, she would get the extended lecture from Mom about men who referred to themselves as bitches. So Susan decided to flip it over and start with something slightly less offensive to her mother’s delicate ears. Settling into her work quickly, Susan neatly scrawled her name and the date, October 4, 1974, across the top of her biology notes. It didn’t take long for her to become engrossed in “Don’t let the sun go down on me” and the anatomy of the frog she would be dissecting on Monday. She didn’t even hear her parents when they came into her bedroom to say good-bye. 

“There are supposed to be some bad storms tonight. I left a flashlight and some candles and matches on the kitchen table for you,” Dad explained. “Just hunker down for the night and you will be fine. Love you, my little chickadee,” he kissed the top of her head.

“I left the phone number for the place we’ll be staying in the city,” Mom continued, “But you may lose the phone. The last storm we had knocked out everything pretty good for a night. But there is plenty of food in the cupboard and we will be back in the late morning. Do not have anyone over, do you understand, young lady?”

“Yes Mom, I understand,” Susan smiled drily at her mother. “Now please go! You don’t want to miss the 8:00 curtain and traffic will be a nightmare if it starts raining. I will be fine. I promise.” She hugged them both and then sent them on their way.

As if on cue, the rain started to fall as soon as the brown Dodge Monaco pulled out of the driveway. Susan shook her head and chuckled to herself as her mother’s warnings rang in her ears. Hoping to get all of her homework done tonight so she could go to a movie with Cindy and Laura tomorrow night, she turned her focus back to her schoolwork.

“Hmm, I really need to start this essay on Crime and Punishment,” she muttered to herself after another 45 minutes of studying science. She leaned over the side of her desk chair to pull the tattered school copy of the book from her bag. Her long brown hair fell across her face. As she pulled it back with her hand, her long nails accidentally scratched her forehead. “Oh, I am such a disaster, Maxie!” she giggled to her little terrier. He cocked his tiny head and looked at her lovingly, the way a dog always manages to do with his human. Susan gave him a quick head pat and chin scratch as she scampered by him on her way to the bathroom to check her face. 

When she realized she actually drew a little blood, she pouted at her own reflection.  She already considered herself too plain with her boring brown eyes and her flat brown hair. She crinkled her freckled nose in disgust at the thought of possibly having a little scar over her right eyebrow. Sighing, she opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bandage and placed it carefully over her scratch. 

Susan’s stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. The quarterback of the football team, Chip Andersen, had made a comment about girls who eat too much are more likely to graduate high school a virgin than pretty girls were. Of course he was being an ass, but she just couldn’t bring herself to eat in front of anyone at school since he shared his infinite wisdom. 

“C’mon, Max,” she stood in her bedroom doorway and patted her thigh to get his attention, “Time for some dinner.”  Max jumped up excitedly from his spot on the end of her bed and landed with a soft thud on the fluffy yellow shag carpet. He shuffled to her side and followed her faithfully down the stairs to the kitchen. Though he was pushing 10 years old, he was as spry as a puppy when it came to meal times. Susan giggled at him as he jumped around excitedly at her ankles as she put his dinner together for him. However,  the giggles quickly turned into a sigh when he let out a little tinkle. “Oh Max.”

Susan walked him to the back door and let him outside so he could finish his business while she wiped up the mess on the floor. After washing her hands, she finished getting his dinner together and put it in his place in the far corner of the kitchen. She looked out the window and was surprised Max wasn’t sitting patiently, waiting to be let back in. He always loved a good stick so she wasn’t too concerned, though the idea of a wet dog to clean up was becoming less appealing with every rain drop that hit the window.

Deciding it would be best to wrestle him away from the stick before he was chilled all the way to the bone in the October rain, Susan grabbed her rain slicker from the hall closet and the flashlight Dad had left out on the kitchen table. She went out back and called Max’s name. When he didn’t come right over, she sighed again and turned on the flashlight. 

The rain was coming down hard and the wind had definitely picked up. Wet leaves were falling from the huge trees in her family’s backyard. They lived on a back road in the New Hampshire mountains where there were lots of large granite deposits and rocks in the soil. Susan searched every inch of the backyard, behind each rock and around every tree, but she couldn’t find Max anywhere.  She then saw the side gate of the fence was open. Cold, wet, and thoroughly annoyed at absolutely everyone and everything, Susan stormed over to the gate to see if Max was playing out front. 

“Max!” Susan called, though she doubted she was any louder than the wind. “Max, here boy!” 

The light beam from the flashlight hit the raindrops, which made it difficult to see anything really well. As she canvased the front yard, sending the light from the fence over by the creek back to the treeline on the far end of the property, it was really impossible for her to make out much of anything. Then, she saw Max at the base of one of the oak trees. His collar looked like it may have been stuck on something. 

Glad he wasn’t lost or hurt, Susan rushed over to him. Just as she got to the tree, Chip Andersen’s red Firebird came whipping around the corner. His car wasn’t built for taking that sharp of a turn that fast on such a wet road, and the tires screeched as the lights blinded Susan. She reached out for Max, grabbed him and jumped back as the red car slammed into the cluster of trees. 

When Susan jumped back, she felt like everything was happening in slow motion. She slipped on the mud and lost her balance. On her way down, she heard the sound of the metal of the car wrapping around the thick tree trunks. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before; it was ear-splitting. Glass from the shattered windshield rained down on her, nicking her skin, making her face and hands sting as she kept falling backwards. Instinctively, she wrapped Max in the crook of her arm to cradle him and protect him from the inevitable fall. Her head slammed against a rock when they hit the wet ground and then she felt nothing. 

It was still raining pretty heavily when Susan finally opened her eyes. She must have done a good job of protecting Max because he had already wandered off again. Hoping he was okay, Susan turned her immediate attention to the people in the car. The red car was mangled beyond recognition. There was some kind of fluid spilling from the bottom of it onto the road.  Sirens could be heard in the distance, but it would probably be another few minutes before they arrived. 

Susan figured her adrenaline must really be pumping because she felt great, all things considered. She had read an article once about some woman who ran up a five-floor walk-up in the city and pulled her baby from a fire even though she herself had third degree burns. This must be what that feels like, Susan thought to herself. Remembering Chip and whoever else was in the car with him, she bolted over to what was left of the car and threw open the driver side door. 

His face was completely unrecognizable; it must have bounced off the windshield on impact. The nose was definitely broken and there were deep gashes with blood flowing heavily from them. His blond hair was his signature though, and that was the same-- just past his ears and silky soft to her touch when she tried to brush it out of the way while she struggled to find a pulse. After leaning him back on the car seat and unbuckling him, she placed her two fingers on the side of his neck, but she still couldn’t find a pulse. 

Looking over at the girl in the passenger seat, Susan realized she had no idea who she was. She most likely had a broken arm and she was bleeding heavily from her right leg, but her face only had some bruising. Still, Susan could not place it. Unable to get any further into the car, Susan reached over to shake the girl awake. She grabbed her left arm since it did not look too damaged, and shook it firmly. 

“Hey!” Susan yelled. “You need to wake up! Please wake up!” She kept shaking the girl’s arm and pleading with her unconscious body. “Please wake up!”

Trying to help both of them at the same time, Susan desperately tried to remember what she was supposed to do when she couldn’t find a pulse. She closed her eyes and thought back to her baby-sitting class. Susan envisioned old Mrs. Martin telling her exactly how to place her hands to perform chest compressions without breaking their ribs. At this point, a broken rib was the least of Chip’s worries, but Susan was determined to try. The sirens still sounded so far away and she was afraid they were both going to die before real help arrived.

Between compressions, Susan yelled over to the girl, begging her to awaken. Suddenly, the girl’s blond curls bobbed slightly and she whimpered breathily. “Oh, thank God!” Susan gasped.

“What happened? Who are you?” the girl looked around frantically. Her eyes widened when she recognized that there was blood pouring from her right leg. Her breathing became more rapid and she started to hyperventilate. 

“I’m Susan, I live up there,” she pointed to her house. “You need to calm down. I know it’s scary but try to match your breathing with my hands. In-and-out, In-and-out,” Susan tried to soothe the stranger while she kept pushing on Chip’s chest, hoping desperately that he would be alive when help arrived. 

Once her breathing was under control, Susan gave her more directions, “I can’t get over there-- see? The tree has your door pinned and I can’t get through that mess,” she pointed to where the car caved into itself above the center seat which looked like a tangled heap of metal and plastic. “Take your belt off and wrap it around your thigh to help stop the bleeding in your leg.”

Trying to keep them both calm with some small talk, Susan commented, “Does your belt have bottle caps on it? That is really funky, I love it!”

“Thanks,” the girl smiled as she clumsily tried to get the belt around her leg, “I’m Chelsea by the way. And thank you for helping Charlie.”

Charlie? He must be reinventing himself for the rival high school girls, Susan mused. Once Chelsea had the belt around her gashed thigh, Susan was able to help her tighten it by pulling it with one hand, while continuing Chip’s chest compressions with the other. Just then, red flashing lights shone through the trees; help was finally close.

“I’m going to go flag them down, I will be right back,” Susan explained to Chelsea. “You’ll be okay now!” She hoisted herself out of the car and ran around the bend in the road to get the ambulance’s attention.

Chelsea reached over and grabbed Charlie’s hand, praying that he would be okay. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her breathing steady like Susan told her. It wasn’t long before the EMTs and firefighters came around the corner, their sirens cutting through the air. It hurt to move her head to try to see them, so Chelsea just sat there, waiting for them to come to the front of the car.

Two of the paramedics came over to the car and opened the driver side front door. They were thrilled to see Chelsea was alert and that she had enough first aid training to turn her belt into a tourniquet. 

The female introduced herself to Chelsea, “I’m Holly! We are going to get you guys out of here. It is going to take a little bit of time though, and I can’t get over to you so for right now, I am going to ask you some questions while my partner takes care of your friend.”

“Friends!” Chelsea corrected Holly. “You need to help Susan too; she was bleeding from her stomach,” she suddenly remembered how the blood was soaking through Susan’s yellow rain jacket.

“Okay, where is Susan?” Holly asked as she looked around the car. The partners from the other rig started to remove Charlie from the car so they could get him on a stretcher and up to the ambulance. 

“Susan wasn’t in the car. She lives up at the house up there,” Chelsea pointed to the ivy-covered, crumbling house on the property. “She went up to the road to flag you down, didn’t you see her?” 

“We didn’t see anyone but I will send someone right away,” Holly assured her. She stepped away from the car and made a motion with her hand to get the attention of her partner, Lou. He walked over to Holly while the firefighters worked out how to move what was left of the tiny two-seater so they could get the girl out of the wreck. 

After Holly explained to him about how there was a third possible patient from the house, he made a face.

“What is that look for?” she asked Lou.

“No one lives in that house; no one has lived there for years.” he gruffly told Holly. “The Carslisles moved out after their daughter and dog were killed by some teenage driver 30-something years ago.”

“That may be true but either way she said there is a girl on foot up in those trees with a serious abdominal injury. Can you go check while I stay with her?” Holly asked.

Lou shook his head and muttered something incoherent under his breath as he walked up toward the far treeline Holly had pointed out to him. Holly turned her attention back to Chelsea and the car. Still waiting for the fire department to get her out of the car, Holly wanted to keep her talking for so many reasons. She leaned over and stuck her head back into the car.

“Can you please tell me your full name?” Holly asked.

“Chelsea Marie Campbell,” the girl responded quickly and clearly. Holly was grateful that she was so alert. She noticed that Chelsea’s color looked fantastic considering how much blood she had lost.

“Can you tell me who was driving this car and who it belongs to?” Holly asked.

“Charlie Andersen is the driver. It is his dad Chip’s car,” she responded. Holly nodded in support. In the distance, Lou caught her attention with a waving gesture. Holly looked over and saw him shrug his shoulders. There was no one up there that needed help. 

Hoping to keep Chelsea awake and responsive, Holly asked another question.  “What is today’s date?”

Without missing a beat, Chelsea confirmed the date, “October 4, 2008.”