Temporary

Chapter 17

   I know we should be calling the police, but Jimmy and I need our time to rejuvenate from what has gone on. The trauma. The craziness. The uncontrollable. The miracle. I saved him. It's been about ten minutes since I hit my father, and about ten minutes ago, Jimmy could have been dead if I hadn't. A tear rolls down my face as I glance over at Jimmy, who is looking at the ground in disbelief that I just nearly killed my father in order to save him, my teacher. I don't care. Jimmy saved me, and I saved him. My father never saved me.

   ''Jimmy,'' I say as I shake him out of his shocked state. He stands there, having his mouth slightly open while his body is unmoving as the color is draining from his face, he is staring wide-eyed at my father. I guess they just freeze up to a point where you can hardly see them breathing, but when shock begins to melt away, everything returns slowly. He finally looks over at me again. ''R-Rose...g-get the phone...'' That was why I was shaking him, to let him know I needed to get the phone. ''Jimmy that's what I was going to do. You don't need to go through this, and shouldn't have to...If I hadn't accidentally given you that---,'' and that's where I was cut off. He cut me off by placing his hand over my mouth gently. ''I'm the older one, and I am the more mature one. This is where I come into place and do something. I'm sure damn glad you gave me that note. I saved you remember?'' He said it in such a quiet and peaceful tone. It made me forget about everything, for just a second.

   As I take my cellphone out of my back pocket, my stomach drops and I swallow hard when I remember my house was locked and the mysterious whereabouts of my mother. Jimmy pulls out one of the kitchen table chairs and sits down in it, then plants his face in his hands, elbows on knees. ''Jimmy, I'm calling, okay?'' He removes his hands from his face and looks at me. I then pull out a chair and sit right beside him. ''Honey let me see the phone,'' he says while sticking his hand out, to retrieve the phone from me.

   He dials 9-1-1. I bit the sides of my fingers, beside my fingernails, to ease my anxiety as we wait for a dispatcher. The phone isn't on speaker either. I hear a woman's voice, the dispatcher, just not what she says. ''T-there's a man here, and he's unconscious, and we're unsure if he's still alive. G-get here quick,'' Jimmy tells the dispatcher. ''No, ma'am, there's only one other person here, and she and I are not injured.'' He then tells her the address and addt'l information required for her to collect.

   I remember his dog. ''Jimmy, where is Gary?'' Jimmy looks up, as if he'd forgotten. It's just stress. ''Up at my niece's house for the week,'' he says. ''Their dog just recently died and my dog always made my niece smile.'' I nod, and as I try to reply, I'm interrupted by a long-wailing scream that spell out the authorities' arrival. We both race to the door and wait. The first to pull up are the two fire trucks and ambulance, whom are followed by three police cars.

   I stare out the window as I take note of the fire and EMT's staying stationed in their vehicles while the police rush to the door. They knock on the door and Jimmy allows them in. Jimmy tells the police where my father lays and points to it. One officer goes along with Jimmy's instructions and another stays with me. He is young, I'd say mid-twenties. He puts his hand on my shoulder and looks at me seriously, but becomingly. ''I'm Officer Westbrooks. After you tell me your name, can you tell me what went on this evening?'' I try to respond, but my vision is becoming disoriented. I can feel my skin becoming clammy and I see black dots and what appears to look like stars, fill the room. Then everything turns black, like outer space.

   I wake up in a vehicle that's parked in front of my house. I know where I'm sitting is in a police cruiser before I really look around because the seats are stone cold hard plastic. ''Officer Westbrooks?'' I look around and see no one. Then I panic. I begin banging on the glass window, while my hands collect sweat and my heart beats fast. I'm very much claustrophobic, and I'm alone in a police cruiser. I take note on the police searching the perimeter of my house. I watch as one man kicks the door down from the view of the car window. It suddenly occurred to me that they had to kick the door down because they didn't obtain a response from my mother. Her car was home. Where was she? I look away, as negative thoughts and possibilities fill my head. I decide to turn around to see what else is going on. From my view outside the rear windshield, I see another police cruiser and someone in the backseat that I assume is Jimmy. I just turn back around. I wait. I don't even look out of the window again. I wait. I wait for what seems like hours but is only fifteen to twenty minutes until Officer Westbrooks approaches.

 

 

   I know that Jimmy will support me through no matter the circumstance. But let's hope for the best.