The Accident

Page One

The rain poured down, over the roads with drivers pulling off to the side of rural streets to make way for an anxious ambulance. It was about dusk on a wet and chilly Thursday. Merging into this lane and that, avoiding stopped cars at intersections, the yellow and white ambulance raced down a quickly darkening street to the scene of a bad accident. The siren whaled and slowed to a stop as the vechile stopped amidst a row of cop cars, and two EMTs rushed out of the back, to assess the damages. It was a tight squeeze to be called to a scene on a winding mountain road, nothing but trees and a slim one lane each road.

"What happened?" A short man in a dark navy medical jacket stood beside one of the officers, viewing the scene, asked beneath the glow and blinking of yellow and red and blue lights. He watched as the other two medics that had been riding with him,checked both drivers, and rushed over to a young one. His scruffy voice and keen senses were more than reputable. Logan was a man who was good at his profession and would not back down for less that perfect. Blue eyes surveyed the scene of a two-car collision, wincing at the sight of one driver pulled halfway out of his red mercedes, while the other sat limp and bleeding in the driver's seat of his grey Ford.

The detective that Logan stood by, turned and nodded to the man who looked back at him. Shaking his head and downcasting his eyes, the late 30s, divorced, badge breathed deep and pulled his raincoat tighter around him. "Coming around the turn, neither one could get out of the way. Doubt the sports car even had control, Jerry clocked him doin' 60 half a mile back. Waitin' on a coroner for the mercedes, looks like your boys are pulling the kid out, now." The detective took special interest in the young driver of the grey car, and stepped closer with Logan, for more details. "Is he alive?" he shouted over the distance.

One of the EMTs to arrive with Logan looked over and nodded, as they lay the bleeding driver down on the board. "Pulse is faint but, it's there! Think we need to get him to Cedars, STAT!"

"No! Community General can have him. And, we just might make it there to save him! Let's go!" Logan shouted back to the two medics who now carried the driver over to the ambulance. Patting the detective's arm in leaving, Logan hurried back into the back of the truck and rushed the others on their way. "I got the back, you get ta drivin!" Slamming the doors shut, Logan turned back to look over the young man while he slipped an oxygen mask over the pale face. He checked the pulse in the cold, wet wrist, and found it's beat sporatic. Checking the pulse in the jugular, Logan waited a second as the pulse stopped completely. "Shit! Cam! Get the paddles, beat flatlined."

The medic in the passengar seat turned around and slipped into the back to sit and the young man's head. Handing the jellied paddles to Logan, Cam set the charge and waited as Logan initiated the machine. "Nothing." Cam, a younger man of 24, had been the rookie on the job. Having only a few accidents under his belt, and watching Logan and Zeke, a 40 something ebony driver, Cam had to pay attention and learn fast at procedures.

"Again!"

"Ready."

"Clear!" Logan pressed the paddles down, onto the body's chest, and jumped for the second time that the boy jumped. "Anything?"

Cam grabbed a black stethascope and listened for the young man's heartbeat. "I'm getting a pulse, it's faint but it's there." Cam listened to the chest again, "It's getting stronger."

"He's alive, kid. They do that." Logan logged in what was done and the times, on a clipboard that had been tucked into a tight pocket, behind Cam's seat.

Cam stared at the pale chest, stethascope still in his ears. "No, I mean, it's getting stronger like.... he might just jump off the table." Pulling the instrument loose, Cam handed it over to Logan and exchanged it for the paddles.

Logan listened to the heartbeat before turning back to Cam. "Sounds normal to me." Glancing down at the young man's face, Logan noticed black slits in the eyes, telling him that the driver was staring at him. "Don't worry, kid, you'll be just fine. We're takin' you to Community General. You just hang in there, okay?"

The young man let out a calm breath and closed his eyes. He lay there peacefully, and listened to the medics conversations.

"Can't be much older than you, rookie. Black business suit, nice watch, shame about drivers not watchin' where they're goin', huh?" Logan glanced the details of the young man, and noted the brown wallet that stuck out from the kid's left pants pocket. With a bump in the road, Logan caught the thick wallet as it fell from the pocket. His eyes lifted to the slender young face. He noted the details of pale skin, flawless features despite the bleeding injury on the left side of his forehead, and a softness to the way the man lay there, motionless. Flipping it open, Logan checked through it for any ID. Pulling one card from a slot, he read it aloud, "Remy LeBeau, Louisiana liscence, auburn hair, brown eyes, about 26 years old."

"He's a long way from home, I'd say." Cam glanced over the boy's clothes and wondered to himself about who Remy LeBeau really was.

The ambulance stopped and the back doors opened with waiting hospital staff, ready to rush the patient inside to the ER. Logan and Cam hurried with them, Logan telling one nurse the details of the accident and the ride to the Emergency doors. Handing the wallet to the nurse, Logan stopped running with the staff, and halted Cam from going with them through the swinging doors. "Better get us some coffee, kiddo. It's gonna be a long night." Patting Cam's back once, Logan led the way back to the ambulance.

"Maybe we should get a thermos for Zeke. He's gonna be dead at the wheel by 5," Cam laughed to himself as they reached the ambulance and climbed inside.

****

The blur of voices and movements and people around him made his head swim. People were talking to him and about him, and then finally there was silence. The clothes he was wearing were being cut away and replaced with a blue and white polkadotted gown. He closed his eyes from a noisy hallway, and opened them to find himself in a cozy hospital room. The overhead light had been turned off, and the door had been propped open while a short, dark-haired nurse took his vitals for the 3rd time.

A doctor came in a short while later to wake and talk to him about insurance and family alerts. The doctor told him that Remy was in the care of the hospital for at least 3 days, with tests, and that his injuries weren't life-threatening.

As he listened, Remy began to think past the doctor, and remember what the brawny, black-haired medic had mentioned about him. Then, as if plucking notes from a book, Remy spoke, "no family. Father in Paris, mother dead. Renting a room, in town, but will stay for three days."

"Good. Lucky for you, you had your seatbelt on." The name on the tall man's coat said, Spiker. He was a somewhat muscular man with bushy brown hair and a mustache to match. Spiker wrote some notes down on his clipboard and smiled down at Remy as their eyes met. "I'll check in on you in the morning, right now.... I think you need some rest. Good night."

Remy nodded and watched the doctor leave before shutting his eyes for a moment, to gather himself.

The night seemed to pass quickly. He barely remembered falling asleep and dreaming for the little time he had, between checks. The quiet hum of the hospital room was cozy and pleasant. He dozed in and out of consciousness while listening to the steady rhythms of the people who passed outside his door.

When he awoke, fully, a nurse was bringing in a menu for him to choose what breakfast he wanted. Picking fruit and orange juice, Remy handed the menu back to her and asked for the curtains to be opened.

"I'm not sure the sun's up, just yet, but okay." Walking around the other side of the bed, the nurse pulled back the curtains to show him that it was barely turning gray outside. Her teal scrubs were less dark, and she smiled with a warm smile as she turned back to look at him. "I'll be back with your order, in just a bit. Okay?" Her voice was soft and warming as she casually walked over to the door to make the rest of her rounds.

Remy looked about himself and blinked. His head hurt where he had hit the steeringwheel, and his mouth was dry from thirst. He raised a heavy left hand to his forehead and placed the tips of his fingers gingerly on the bandage. "Ow." He had said it with very little pained emotion, and more confusion than anything. Pulling his hand back to examine his fingers, he didn't see any blood or wetness.

"Yes, what a nasty bump on the head you've had, Mister LeBeau." Spiker stood in the doorway and smiled at Remy, who looked over at him. "You're lucky to be alive, actually. I've been looking over your chart, and reading the paramedic's notes. They had to revive you in the ambulance, when it seemed you were clinically dead. It also says you've regained consciousness rather quickly. Quite a lucky young man." He stepped inside and motioned for the officer to follow him in. "This is officer Mendez. He's brought the overnite bag that was in the trunk of your rental car, as well as the rest of your personal belongings. When you are ready to check out, they will be ready for you."

"Merci." A monotonous Cajun accent greeted the officer as Remy watched him place the bags on the small table, to the left of the door.

Dr. Spiker came to stand beside Remy's bed and examine his eyes with a penlike flashlight. "How are you feeling this morning? Any pain, discomfort?" He stood back and observed Remy as he answered.

"Just pain in my arms and a headache. Nothing serious."

Spiker laughed at the comment. "Glad you agree. I will have the nurse bring in some Tylenol for your pain. But first, it looks like your breakfast is here. Eat up, and I will be back later for some tests." Nodding to the officer and moving out of the way of the nurse bringing the tray, Dr. Spiker slipped quietly out of the room.

The nurse set the tray down in front of Remy and lift the lid. "There you go. Would you like some help, or are you alright by yourself?"

"Non, I can manage. Tylenol, please."

She nodded and left to fetch the pain relievers.

Remy was left alone to stare at the tray of food that looked less than appetizing. Picking up a slice of golden brown toast, he raised an eyebrow at the lack of hunger he had for the item. Taking a bite, he chewed the unbuttered slice and stared at the bite mark. "Interesting." Another bite, chew and swallow before the nurse came back to watch him slowly eat the piece of bread.

Soft taps on the bare floor and then a stop by his left shoulder as the nurse came back into the room. "Here you go," she smiled as she handed him a small cup with two white pills inside. Nurse Anthony watched him place the pills in his mouth before handing him the paper cup of juice. "Good. If you need anything else, just push this call button." The small, brunette nurse unhooked the remote from the sidebar of the bed, and lay it by his left hand, for convenience.

"Merci." Again, Remy was left to glance over his unappetizing food and continue to nibble at the other three pieces of unbuttered toast. The throbbing in his head had prevented him from eating his scrambled eggs, and his arms hurt in lifting and holding the utensils. Finally, he pushed the tray away and turned back to watch the sunrise. "Another bleak day," he whispered to himself.

TBC.