I was keeping up with traffic on I-5 on my bicycle and two other bikers passed me going really fast on the right; they must have been going 70. We were approaching an off-ramp and one of them drifted into the exit lane; at the last minute she swerved to get back on the freeway and lost control. Her bicycle somersaulted, and she slid face-down across the pavement for what seemed like a Very Long Time. The Metro bus behind her skidded to a stop just inches from her head.
I ditched my bike and went running towards her; I saw her traveling companion, also running. He had been riding slightly ahead of her when she fell off her bike so he was still fairly far away. He was talking on a cell as he ran. I got there first, yelled over my shoulder, "Did you call 911? She needs an an ambulance." He was still talking on his cell, but nodded, mouthed 'yes'.
I flipped her over. She had a lot of bruises and abrasians. One of her eye socket was broken; her eye rolled around inside like a blue and white marble. The impact had knocked off her helmet but she was conscious. And talking. "I got to get my bike," she said, struggling to sit. "Sorry I'm in your way, I'll be out of here right away."
"You need to stay down for a minute," I told her. "You fell and we're going to have someone look at you and make sure you are OK."
"I'm fine, I just need to stand up," she said.
I picked her up and laid her on the blue velvet couch attached to the front of the bus. "Just stay here for a second and catch your breath, OK?" At first she struggled against me and tried to stand again but she was too weak. A second later, as her friend pulled up, panting and out of breath, she collapsed and started shaking and crying. I pulled her close and gently smoothed her hair. "It's all right," I said. "The shock is wearing off so you're going to be emotional."
"It hurts," she said, sobbing. "My face."
"Close your eyes," I said. "You gave yourself a black eye and that will help it feel better." I didn't really know if that was true but I wanted her to stay calm. The bus had been nearly empty so apart from two old ladies and the bus driver, there was just me and the other biker. "She needs ice." I looked around. The off-ramp led to a small shopping complex but all the stores were shuttered and covered in graffiti.
"I'm going to go see what I can find," I told the woman's friend. I sprinted across seven lanes of traffic, and crawled up a steep embankment. At the top was a decrepit plywood barrier about eight feel tall topped by razor wire. I kicked it till I had made a decent sized hold and crawled through. On the other side, trash-and-broken-glass-strewn streets, dusty straw-colored grass, and old brick apartment high rises, speckled with cracked or shattered windows. No stores anywhere. Children ran screaming across yellow lawns, kicking balls, spilling into the streets indiscriminately. I saw no adults and no cars.
"Hello?" I walked down the sidewalk till I got to the first building. At my knock, the door swung wide. To get to the apartment on the main floor I had to climb a pile of books and squeeze through a small louvered window. But on the other side, the apartment was clean, bright, simply furnished. Sun streamed through a kitchen window. A woman in a short brown dress smiled at me and profferred a glass of orange juice.
"I just need ice, actually. Thanks though. Do you have any?"
The woman held the glass outstretched a little further. "You really should drink this; it's good for you. What are you doing out there all by yourself?" Her tone was like a kindergarten teacher, so convincing and disconcerting that I wanted to look myself up and down, reassure myself that I really was five foot six.
"There was an accident," I said. "On the freeway. A woman hit her head and I need to keep the swelling down till the ambulance arrives."
The woman's brow crinkled momentarily then she smiled and shook her head at me. "You kids have such elaborate games. But that's a little grisly; maybe you should play dress-up or tag instead."
Behind me, three children around 8 came pelting through the door and started talking all at once. "Mama, mama, there's a hole in the fence. And a loud noise. And Sarah went through it and we couldn't stop her. And a cat followed her."
The woman's face turned ashy; she collapsed and lay unmoving on the floor. The kids turned to me. "Can you help us get Sarah back?"
I followed them to the fence and squeezed through the hole I had made. From the top of the hill I could see a little blond girl, maybe six, almost at the bottom, headed right for traffic. "Hey!" I screamed, running downhill. "Stop." She kept moving. I caught up to her just as she had crossed the first painted lane; a car rocketed by and honked in the next lane over as I pulled her back to the shoulder. Bent down, out of breath. Took her face in my hands and said, "Don't. Do. That. Ever."
She stared at me blankly. I heard another siren wailing in the distance. The three other kids stood huddled next to the hole in their fence.
I woke up in a sweat. My phone had four text messages all within the last two minutes. Chirp chirp. Now five.
My head hurts from the ill-advised vodka shot I chased some wine and cocktails with last night. I am feeling very New Year's Resolution Ish - deciding again to quit drinking. Not that I remember doing anything extreme. I just don't know that at 39 I need to wake up feeling this iffy about consciousness.
So, if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a gallon of water and possibly a fried egg.
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