The Distant Echo

Pain Ending the Effort

EARTH — SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA — NOVEMBER, 23YEARS AGO

It was a dark and stormy night, which did not make for a promising beginning. Paul Green wanted to go home, to stop his anxious mind from screaming about time wasted on trivial things. He had work to do, important, meaningful work. A widely publicized criminal trial was starting on Monday, one in which he had been tapped as lead prosecutor, and he needed the entire weekend to revise his opening deposition. One senior district attorney position remained; he was determined to get it, and the outcome of this trial would decide his fate.

Sheets of rain fell, soaking Paul before he climbed inside his Jaguar XJ40 sedan. He cursed the rain, cursed when he started the car, and the defroster fogged the windows, and cursed again when the tires got loose as he pulled around to the front of the restaurant.

Paul waited for his wife and son to come out, this time grumbling under his breath. Izzy was not happy to be leaving the dinner party — her cousin Gio's fortieth birthday — but preparing for this trial, earning his promotion, that was a little more important than some dumb cousin's celebration.

Windshield wipers moved back and forth, water flying inside the car when Izzy opened the door. Irritated, Paul said, "Come on let's go. Hurry up. My leather seats are getting soaked." Turning to the back passenger side, Paul said, "Get in, Alex, stop fooling around."

Two unhappy door closures later, and Paul pulled the Jag out into the storm.

Alex snapped his seat belt together. "Dad, we missed dessert. Can we stop for ice cream?"

Paul didn't answer. He didn't get much of a chance to.

"We could have at least stayed for dessert, Paul. It was rude to leave when we did," Izzy said.

"I'm sorry, but I have work to get done." Paul's tone was condescending and he knew it. "I suggested you ask your parents for a ride."

"No Paul. That means they'd have to backtrack across town just to take us home."

Alex leaned forward. "Dad, could we stop for ice cream? I was good all night."

Rain dumped on the car, and the wind gusted. Paul glanced toward the back and raised his voice, "Alex, sit back and be quiet."

The car exploded in a violent, glass-shattering tremor, the shriek of twisting metal drowning their screams. Spinning out of control, the car hurtled into oncoming traffic and was struck again. A madness of lights flashing all around — yellow sulfur streetlights blurred with reds and greens. Car horns and screeching tires morphed into a horrible, blaring noise before the car struck a light pole, ripping the cab open.

And then, everything went dark.

It was the bizarre odor that brought Paul back — a sick mixture of burned rubber, antifreeze, and water vapor. His head throbbed, and he felt blood running through his hair. His stomach ached, and he vomited, the vile stuff tasting like acidic copper. Numb, painful heat flared in his arm and abdomen, and traveled the length of his leg.

He heard sirens, far at first, and then close. Footsteps and frantic voices, moved around the car, and there was something about jaws and life. The car vibrated and the tremors made the pain worse, the sound of tearing metal like an ice pick driven deep into his ear.

The passenger door was torn away. Light poured in, and he saw his wife, his Izzy, covered in blood, maybe her head split open, her neck not right. He wanted to cry out to her, and he tried, but consciousness slipped away.

***

Tubes, and wires, and rhythmic beeps. For several minutes he stared at the equipment surrounding him and entangling him, fading out between each beep that brought him back. People were moving in the background, somewhere close perhaps, whispering and messing with the tube-wire-web that trapped him.

All but one person moved away, and Paul decided that he could smell disinfectant.

Paul said, "Where am I?"

A voice answered: "Mr. Green. You are at Sutter Memorial Hospital."

"What happened?"

The doctor looked at Paul's chart. "You were involved in a car accident. You sustained a concussion and your right eardrum burst. For that, you'll consult with a specialist upon release from ICU. You have a number of broken bones: three ribs, the radius in your left arm, your right leg fibula. Surgery to repair that is scheduled for tomorrow morning."

Paul tried to swallow. Couldn't. "My wife Izzy? My son?"

The doctor pursed his lips. "Izzy? That's your wife's name?

"Her name is Isabella. Everyone calls her Izzy."

"I see," the doctor said. "Mr. Green, your son Alex is also here and being treated. He has several lacerations that needed stitches. Fortunately, he didn't sustain any broken bones, nor did he have any internal bleeding or organ damage."

The doctor put the clipboard down, took a step back. "However, Alex sustained head trauma. There was significant swelling in his brain — we operated to relieve the pressure. Right now, he's in a medically induced coma. His brain was damaged due to impact trauma. I can't say if the damage is permanent, but I don't expect him to walk without extensive neuro-physical therapy."

Paul tried to move, pain ending the effort. A tear fell down the side of his cheek. "What about my wife?"

Years of emergency room practice moved the doctor tocold. "I'm afraid her injuries were catastrophic. Your wife died at thescene. I'm sorry."