It Runs In The Blood

Just something to make you wonder.

                Sometimes you just gotta go for it.  The simple thing would be to stand by passively.  The simple thing would be to sit by, saying, “This is not my time.”  The simple thing would be to pass it off until tomorrow.  The simple thing would be to continue, as if nothing extraordinary has happened and neither does it need to happen.  The simple thing would be a number of things that require no effort on your part.  But if the whole world stuck to doing the simple things, we would have died off a long time ago.

                Besides, I was raised to avoid the simple things and pursue the not-so-simple.  The not-so-clear.

                So when I heard the screech of tires and turned to see a Jeep Wrangler spinning out of control at seventy miles-per-hour, I didn’t hesitate a moment to start sprinting towards the vehicle in order to aid in any way I could.  And when the driver lost all control entirely, and the vehicle flipped and rolled down into the canyon, I didn’t hesitate to pull out my phone, call 911, all the while still running as fast as my body allowed.

                And it was this decision to act instead of hesitate that changed my life forever.

                The Jeep had rolled off the highway and into the canyon only a hundred meters away from where I had been, so it was only fifteen seconds or so before I was making my way down the semi-steep terrain to the wreckage below.  There was no fire, and I took that as a good sign.  I wasn’t even sure if I should expect fire, but Hollywood had taught me that nine times out of time, a vehicle in a terrible accident will catch on fire.  On the other hand, I couldn’t hear any shouting of any sort coming from the Jeep.  I decided to count on the victim or victims to have been in a daze or shock, rather than dwell on other possibilities.  I recalled a car accident I had been in about a year earlier.  It had been minor enough that I didn’t even suffer whiplash, yet I had been dazed for several minutes from the initial impact and the subsequent airbag explosion.  Point is, I had every reason to hope for the best.  But even if I hadn’t, I still would have found some reason to view the situation optimistically.  That’s the best way to do things.  That’s what I’ve been taught.

                The canyon side wasn’t too steep here and leveled out for a distance after only about a twenty meter decent.  It was here that the wrecked Jeep had settled upside-down.  The person or persons had been traveling without the top on the jeep on, which certainly had worsened the situation.  As I neared the vehicle, pieces of wreckage and glass became semi-frequent.  Scanning the area though didn’t immediately present anyone to me which kept me hopeful that no one had been thrown.

                The Jeep itself was terribly battered.  No side or angle appeared untouched.  The windshield seemed to be missing entirely and the steel support beam for the missing topper had completely caved in.  One glance at the driver vanquished any illusions I’d had that this would all turn out okay.  There was blood.  Lots of it.  There was no doubt that he, I think he was a he, was dead.  His head was split open and something stuck out of his chest.  I didn’t take longer than a couple seconds to take him in.  He was beyond my help and quite, frankly, the sight was making me want to hurl.  And cry.  That too.

                There was a woman in the passenger’s seat.  My heart skipped a beat, as I couldn’t immediately tell if she was dead or not.  There was still a chance.

                I was aware that if she had suffered injury to her back or neck, that moving her could do more damage if I didn’t know what I was doing, which I didn’t.  But she was bleeding heavily from a head wound, and seeing as she was upside-down, I thought she needed to be out.  Besides, the Jeep was leaking gasoline and as previously mentioned, Hollywood had taught me many things about what that could lead to.

                There was very little room to maneuver in the squashed cab, but I managed to get my hand on the buckle to the hopefully not-dead woman’s seatbelt and release it.  Supporting her, I carefully lowered her down and out of the vehicle, laying her on her back.  Kneeling next to her, I put an ear to her mouth and listened for a sign of life.

                There! Soft as it was, she was breathing.  Quickly, I pulled off my shirt and applied it to the wound on her head.

                I could hear sirens.  Good.  When I had called 911, I had quickly explained what I knew of the situation and where I was.  I had been planning to keep them on the line, but cell signal in the area had already been sketchy at best, and I lost signal entirely almost as soon as I had started my decent into the canyon.

                A fire truck pulled to the side of the highway.  I yelled to the first person I could see, informing them that there was a woman alive but in bad condition.  Returning my attention to the woman in front of me, I tried my best to keep the bleeding at bay.  Suddenly, her eyes flashed open.  They were a deep hazel, nearly golden.  She stared straight into my eyes intently and I found myself unable to tear away.  And then she spoke, “Yes.  You will have to do.  I need you to carry a burden.  I’m sorry, but you have no choice in the matter.  Ready yourself.”

                “Ready myself for wh--?”

                Before I could finish, a wisp, like a small cloud or a bit of mist, left her lips and entered in my mind.  It was warm, despite its appearance, and seemed to slither down my throat and into my lungs, proceeding to spread throughout my entire body from there.

                She sighed with relief.  “Good.  It’s all gonna be okay.”  She closed her eyes.

                Alarmed, I shook her, and then pulled back, remembering the whole thing about not moving a person with a potential neck or back injury.  “Yes!”  I yelled at her.  “It is all going to be okay.  You gotta stay with me!  Stay awake!”  The paramedic firefighter showed up then and told me they would handle it from there.  I had no choice but to trust them.

                Several hours later I sat by her bedside.  She had gone into surgery and survived.  She was stable now; asleep and slowly recovering.  They had failed to identify her or her deceased companion, but maybe something would turn up later.  For now, I was all she had, and to be honest, I didn’t mind.  I would watch out for her.  I knew I should and I knew I could.  It may not be the simple thing, but doing the hard thing runs in my blood.

                Especially now.  Now that I carry It.

                Oh, and the Jeep never did catch on fire.