Page 57 - Contrast2009

the back of his hand as he nudged the steering wheel. The

r,adio station cut to commercials, and he' leaned forward to

'turn the dial. The pattern _of the road was etched into his

mind; and as his eyes blotted up he let his app rehe n si on

'bury J.tself in the' bottom of his stomach, beneath the sharp,

satisfactory resignation he'd worked 'to perfection. There

was no shock, no ambition, nothing that could shake him

from his steady purpose, and he drove with one hand; almost;

dim enough to smile. He could see peach trees, Beth and the

su i tcas'es, the goldfish swimming around serenely in his bowl:/

all set against the ba~kdrop 'Of them~sic coming through '

the 'speakers in the. doors; and he leaned his head back and

drew in a'deep breath, one for 'himself, for his parents, for

life,' the last true, good thing he would ev~r feel.

If she hadn't flagged him with' her arm, he might never' 0

have even seen her. There was nowhere to swerve" nowhere

to go except square into oncoming traffic" and his reflexes

picked up before his own apathy could-or else he,might have

taken ,the opportunity.' Momentarily he felt the'hardness of

the impact-surprising-and then her face was right there on

the windshield, so close he saw the look of horror, heard ,

,the scream' leave' her 'open mouth as she 'flipped over the car !
.I
and onto the asphalt behind, twisting and tearing. Cursing,'

he stomped on the brake,ryanked the car to the curb, his

heart th~obbing with dread. She was in the rearview-

stretched. on her stomach in the middle of· the road witli the

bicycle mangled in the other lane. There was a line of cars

stopped ,behind her, but; nobody was getting out. Nobody at

all; though, he thought he saw the driver of t heTir st car,

back talking on a cell. phone.

She wasn't moving. His· body locked up in unabated

terror. He .puiled his 'grip. fr6m the steeij..ngwh~el, and his

hands trembled so v i o'LerrLty they battered against his legs.

If, he hurried he COUld. make it home before the cops found

,out, before anybody could identify the car. He'd be gone by

then, anyway; he wasn't meant to l,ive, not' like this .,I-t was

only then that thebacklog'of his senses kicked in, all at

;once'. Brakes screeching, girl shrleking;'!1'is·gasping voice,

, the j01 t pf the car, .and the cacophony' as the cars' behind

screamed to a stop. He put his head in his hands,' and his

quivering fingers plowed through his hair. He couidn't bear

to look; 'blindly, he, fingered the gear shift and moved into

drive.

·Grow yourself up, Brady Jenkins;

NO~ Dad, no. It wasn't my fault, it's just me. 'That's

all it is. It's just me.

The car had just b~rely'settled baGk into park whe~

he thrashed through ~he door; got out and ran. The girl'

was still. On her back there was a ripped piece of paper