(aka Bike) Part 2053 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
“Well that was a waste of time,” said Phoebe as we got into the car.
“Perhaps, he’s still very shocked.”
“But he’s got a baby to care for–enough of him, what about her?”
“That’s sometimes the difference between men and women...”
“Yeah, we’re left holding the baby.” I nearly laughed out loud at what she said, but she was completely right on this occasion. “Why can’t he see it the same as us?”
“He was upset before this happened if you recall–and he was upset with her and she with him.”
“Yeah but why did she have to do that? I mean I’m, like upset with him, but I’m not gonna kill myself–I’m more likely to kill him.”
“Yes I noticed the left hook to his kisser.”
She smirked, “Yeah, I enjoyed that.”
This trend of violence amongst young women was worrying, especially when they claim to enjoy it.
“Have you ever hit anyone?” she asked me.
“A few times.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did it feel like?”
“I didn’t enjoy it–well maybe once or twice–but then they asked for it.”
“Oh like when you rescued that woman who’d been trafficked for sex?”
“Possibly.”
“Is it true you once hit Daddy?”
“Um–probably–why?”
“Julie mentioned something about you laying him out.”
“Did she now?” I’ll have to have words with elder daughter.
“Yeah, she said you were arguing and you hit him or something.”
“I showed him a flying kick–he didn’t believe it was as good as I’d said it was. Unfortunately I meant to pull it but he stepped forwards and I knocked him out.” It was total fiction. We were squabbling and I dearly regretted it now. Simon might at times be a total ass, but I loved him, long ears an’ all.
“What do we do about the baby?” Phoebe was flitting from subject and back like a butterfly.
“Continue to care for her until someone in authority tells us to stop.”
“Or my bro.”
“Yes, exactly–but he’s in no position to do that for the moment.”
“The moment?” she gasped, “At the rate he’s going she’ll be a granny herself before he knows his arse from his elbow.”
How I didn’t hit the car behind as I reversed out of the space, I’ll never know–possibly the warning thing beeping away helped. Phoebe has this penchant for saying things I don’t expect–this rather blunt summation of her brother being one of them.
“Do I need to stop my course?”
“No,” I said firmly though on reflection it might have come over as me snapping at her. “You need to get on with your own life, I’ll organise something provided Neal is happy with it.”
“He barely knows which way is up.”
“But he will in a few weeks.”
“So, are they going to keep the body in the freezer until he gets his act together?”
“I don’t know. There’ll have to be a post mortem and the coroner will decide when the body can be released for disposal.”
“You make it sound like an industrial process.”
“Pheebs, it is, or it would be if our friendly neighbourhood undertaker wasn’t there to soften the edges. Let’s face it, there are far too many of us on this small planet and as we haven’t yet discovered the secret elixir of life, so we still die in quite significant numbers. The bodies have to be got rid of, and that means burial or burning, or we’d be knee deep in corpses.”
“Luv-ly,” she sighed. “It sounds like it’s the same as chucking out a bag of rubbish.”
“It is in some respects.”
“Respect–aren’t we supposed to respect the dead?”
“I think we do, or some of us do, at any rate.”
“Yeah, but not everybody does or they wouldn’t paint stupid things on war memorials.”
“The mentality of some of those people doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“My other mum always said we should respect the dead, especially those who were generous enough to die to protect us.”
“Absolutely.”
“So people who deface those memorials need locking up.”
“I agree entirely. Usually they seem to be people who were out of their heads on drugs or booze and I suspect have been put up to the act by someone with much more sinister motives.”
“Like the mad muslims?”
“They could just as easily be neo-Nazis trying to stir things up between communities.”
“Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Neither do the tabloids. For them, someone spray painting the WW2 Bomber Command memorial, is a heaven sent chance to stir up all sorts of things.”
“Yeah, makes me sick–bloody tabloids.”
I’ve been on the receiving end of them–it isn’t very nice.”
“Why would they be after you?”
“I suppose I’m one of those people things happen to or near, and I’m forced to act.” As if on cue, two cars drove straight into each other scattering debris all over. Somehow, I managed to retain control of my car and got through the accident. “See?”
“Yes I do, Mummy. What do we do?”
“Lock our bags in the car, take our mobiles and be ready to call the police and ambulance. C’mon, let’s see if we can help.”
I locked the car as we dumped our bags in the footwells and rushed over to the worse damaged car. It didn’t look very good–no airbag, possibly wasn’t wearing a seat belt and I suspect was the guilty party, as the car seemed to cross the carriageway into the path of the other one. Phoebe made for that one.
An old man was slumped over the steering wheel and there was blood all up the windscreen. An old lady was sitting in the passenger seat looking completely dazed. I reached in and switched off the engine. There was no pulse for the man–but I knew that before I opened the door. I checked her. She was still alive, but very badly shocked and possibly had a neck injury. I dialled triple nine and called for help.
I left her as someone came to help and went to assist Phoebe who was in tears, a young woman was slumped back in her seat with blood on her face and a baby was screaming somewhere from the back seat. The mother was alive but unconscious. She had an airway so I left her to look for the baby. The engine had stalled but a radio was playing awful music so I switched it off.
We located the baby–she was jammed under the driver’s seat–having presumably been thrown out of the seat on the back of the car. Her crying meant she was still alive, but it would take experts to rescue her.
A police car arrived and two officers came running up to the scene. As we were telling them what happened, the first ambulance arrived. I showed the paramedics the baby stuck in the car and they said they’d have to wait for the fire tender with cutting equipment to make sure they didn’t do any further damage. They then concentrated on looking at the mother and then the old couple in the other car.
Before we were sent from the scene, we saw the dazed young woman being extracted from her car into an ambulance before some burly fireman ripped her seat out of the car and gently lifted out a baby who was handed quickly to the paramedic. I threw blue light at all the victims, including the deceased old man. He’d died from a heart attack a split second before he lost control of the car–it could happen to anyone.
“Can we go, Mummy?” asked Phoebe, “I’ve had enough death for one day.”
“Yes, of course, sweetheart.” I put my arm round her and escorted her back to the car. “You did really well, helping look after that young mother and baby.”
“Will they be alright?”
“I think so.”
“Was the old bloke–you know–a goner?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Your blue light couldn’t revive him then?”
“Not if it was his time to go, no.”
“Is that decided then–and by who?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know, but I know it won’t help those who appear in that position.”
“How d’you know?”
“Nothing happens.”
“That’s it, nothing happens?”
“Exactly–now let’s get home before Simon sends out a search party.”
“That was kind of exciting but horrible.”
“Yeah, life is messy.”
Comments
yeah, life is messy
It's hard to find truer words. excellent episode.
never know
what will come next, just have to take it as it comes and love those around you with all you have.
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
Life is messy alright
and with all the deaths and an attempted suicide suddenly in Cathy's life, is it going to get even messier? Will the baby in the car will wind up being cared for by someone in the Cameron household? What will happen next to Neal? Stay tuned for the exciting continuation of this tale! (or maybe that should that be 'tail' or even 'tails', as I suspect a couple of felines are playing around with the story line again.)
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
life is messy
yup, Cathy's got it
Seems as if the Shekinah
Glory is placing people who neeed Cathy's help in her way.
May Your Light Forever Shine
Saying the Darndest...
There are times it'd be safer for folks to not talk at all while driving... You think Phoebe was bad up there...
The receptionist at the company I used to work for had picked her son up from school, and was driving them home. The son asked if he could talk to his grandma, so our receptionist (the boy's mom) hit her mom's speed dial on her phone and handed it to him. After a minute, the grandma apparently asked what he'd learned in school that day. His response, nearly caused an accident. "Grandma, did you know that Uranus has poisonous gas?" (If you don't get it, try it out loud... If you still don't get it find the alternate pronunciation for the planet.)
Simon would really have had a cow had Cathy and Phoebe had reason to take yet another baby home... Oy... Seeing an accident like that happen is not fun at all... It helps, some, if you're older.
Thanks,
Annette
Phoebe has certainly
been exposed to life in all its rawness these last few days, Thankfully she has Cathy with her , Whilst Cathy may not be that much older than Phoebe she has certainly used the few years difference between them to good effect...
In life (as Phoebe will no doubt find out) experience is the key, Learn from it and your life can be enhanced, Ignore it and ...well you don't need me to tell you that nothing is more frustrating than having your own personal Groundhog Day...
Sad to see that the old man in a car did not make it, But as Cathy so rightly points out when its your time to go there is not a great deal you can do about it, Hopefully the old man had a full and enjoyable life because as far as we know you do not get a second try... Unless of course all the the eastern religions have got it right .... Reincarnation... Now there's an interesting thought!!
Kirri
Excellent chapter.
It's a bitch when death comes suddenly and unexpectedly. I hate it when girls are killed, (gasps of astonishment, revulsion even but I make no apologies), I count girls more valuable than boys, more full of promise and potential. The givers of life as it were.
That's why I'm glad the mother and the baby were not killed.
Thanks for this chapter Ang.
Still lovin' it.
Bevs.