GuidoWorld

Chapter 5

Desmond woke to the sound of the telephone ringing on the nightstand next to the bed. He quickly gathered himself together to answer the phone. Rachel lay quietly and did not even stir being fairly accustomed to Desmond’s receiving late night calls. Usually, these calls meant some parishioner was sick or there was some kind of emergency. Desmond had been called late at night for everything from domestic arguments to suicide attempts and had trained his body and his mind to become instantly alert. Picking up the phone Desmond listened to the pitter-pat of rain. It was a little before midnight on Monday evening and had been raining since sundown on Sunday. The entire town had been resting and celebrating the last twenty four hours to prepare for the work to do as soon as the rains ceased.

“Hello,” Desmond said firmly sounding anything but sleepy.

“Rev. Prouty,” a man’s voice said above some very loud background noise.

“Yes,” Desmond said becoming instantly anxious.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour,” the voice went on cautiously as if to be stalling for time. “but, your daughter has been in an accident.”

“Is she all right?” Desmond almost shouted out as his heart began pounding in terror.

“Well, it’s hard to say just yet,” the voice said in a tone of confession Desmond was very familiar with, “I think you better get down here right a way.”

Rachel sensing that something was quite wrong, rolled over and stared at Desmond hunched over the phone. She too, felt her heart speed up and her head getting light.

“Sure, I’ll be there right away,” Desmond said with a voice full of fear. “Was she with her husband?”

“No, only her and her baby were in the car,” the voice said as calmly as possible. “We’ve talked to him and he’s already on his way over here to Mission hospital. Mr. Langston is the person who asked us to give you a call.”

“Thank you very much for calling,” Desmond sputtered, “I’ll be right there.”

Desmond hung up the phone and turned towards Rachel who was now sitting up. Rachel’s eyes were filled with tears when she asked, “Oh my God! What’s happened to Rebecca?”

“She’s been in a car accident,” Desmond said a moment before his throat constricted.

“Oh my God!” Rachel cried out. “Is she all right?”

“They wouldn’t say much over the phone,” Desmond said fighting the impulse to break down and cry. “Mark is on his way there right now,” Desmond paused and added with an air of defeat, “she was with the baby.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say Andrew’s name. The very thought of that innocent child being in any pain was impossible for Desmond to even imagine.

Rachel’s lips quivered as she raised herself up to put on her robe. Quietly she took a few steps before slowly turning back to Desmond to ask, “Did they say anything about Andrew?”

“No,” Desmond said hoarsely, “they just said to get down there right away.”

Rachel felt her body go limp, as she fell into Desmond sobbing. Desmond held her tightly, but could think of nothing to say. After, what seemed like ten minutes, Desmond whispered, “We’ve got to get down there.”

Desmond wiped away her tears and offered, “He didn’t say it was a bad accident. We shouldn’t be expecting the worse.”

Rachel nodded, but knew they wouldn’t be so vague if things were okay. Desmond too, realized that the man on the phone did nothing to reassure him that there was no great emergency. His voice had that brittle rehearsed calm of a man who has had to make many of these phone calls. The kind of phone calls no one ever wants to receive.

Quickly and quietly Desmond and Rachel got dressed. As soon as Desmond was dressed he went outside. He started up the car, drove it to the front of the house and waited for Rachel. She ran down the front steps and almost fell into the car as she opened the door.

“Oh dear God,” Rachel implored, “let them be all right.”

Desmond made no reply to Rachel’s prayer and began their trip in total silence. Though his mind was racing, Desmond could not bring himself to anticipate what was about to happen. Rachel, on the other hand, could do little else but speculate what horror they were about to encounter.

Desmond tried to stay calm by keeping quiet. He felt there was nothing to say, and only wanted to focus on getting to the hospital as quickly as possible. Rachel found the quiet unbearable and broke the silence every few seconds to mutter some wishful prayer, or to ask Desmond a question regarding his short telephone conversation with the man from the hospital.

Rachel, unable to stay quiet, periodically asked Desmond questions regarding what he knew about the accident. She inquired about the status of Rebecca, the baby and the car. She asked Desmond why they were driving so late at night, and why Mark was not with them. She even asked Desmond if the man on the phone was a doctor, an intern, a nurse or just an orderly.

Desmond irritated by Rachel’s questions struggled hard to keep from yelling at her. On two or three occasions Desmond’s voice strained when he repeated that the only thing he knew was that there was an accident, but he never blew up at Rachel. He knew that Rachel’s questions were her coping mechanism, and getting angry at her would only make the situation worse.

The theories Desmond did have regarding the accident he kept to himself. He knew that exposing Rachel to his thoughts would do little to calm her down and, out of fear, she would probably dispute all of his conclusions.

The way Desmond had it figured out Rebecca had taken Andrew out in the car for a late night drive. She had often done this when Andrew had difficulty getting to sleep. The rain and slick roads, he presumed, were the cause of the accident. The biggest question that remained, was whether or not another car was involved. If a combination of the rain and wet roads caused Rebecca’s car to slide off the road then there was a good chance that the injuries were relatively slight. If another car was involved the chances of severe injuries greatly increased.

In this rainy evening it was easy for Desmond to imagine Rebecca sliding off the road. On these dark country roads the least bit of rain made it almost impossible to see even twenty feet ahead. At times this evening the rain had been torrential. In a hard rain in the dark one could drive off even the most familiar of roads.

Desmond’s patience with Rachel had worn thin by the time they arrived at the hospital. Rachel’s anxiety had risen to the point where she had asked the same unanswerable questions three or four times each. Getting out of the car Rachel paused for a moment, paralyzed by the fear of what she was about to see and hear. Feeling feint she took a deep breath while taking one last look at the rainy night outside the hospital.

The rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers stayed with Desmond long after he entered the hospital. Arriving at the reception desk in the emergency room Desmond and Rachel were greeted by a young nurse who immediately escorted them to an office. She asked them to have a seat and told them that Dr. Tolliver would be with them in a moment.

Rachel’s attempt to ask a question was quickly silenced by the nurse as she repeated that Dr. Tolliver would arrive soon to answer all their questions. Desmond moved next to Rachel and hugged her. Rachel at first stiffened and than relaxed in his arms. He whispered calmly to her and tried his best to reassure her that everything would be all right.

Burying her head into Desmond’s chest Rachel once again gave into her tears. Desmond stroked her hair and let her cry out all her fears. After she was emotionally spent, Desmond got Rachel to take a few deep breaths. Desmond walked Rachel over to a chair and convinced her to have a seat. Rachel sat down and leaned against Desmond who stood next to her chair.

Neither talked for the next few minutes as Desmond stood vigilantly by Rachel’s side. Rachel clung tightly onto Desmond’s hip when she heard foot steps approaching. Desmond looked down and gave Rachel one last reassuring look before returning his eyes to the door to the room.

A tall middle aged man in a white lab coat entered the room and silently walked over to Desmond and Rachel.

“My name is Dr. Tolliver,” he said softly while placing one hand on Rachel’s shoulder and extending his other hand to Desmond. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Just a few minutes,” Desmond said sounding hoarse and tired. Though he could not recall ever meeting Dr. Tolliver before, his voice sounded very familiar. His deep steady voice had a reassuring quality, much different than the nasal voice that had summoned him to the hospital.

“I’m sorry for the delay, but I just left Mark and Rebecca this moment.”

“So she’s okay!” Rachel cried out hopefully.

“Well,” Dr. Tolliver replied solemnly, “she’s got some pretty serious bumps and bruises, but she should be okay after a few days of rest.”

“Oh thank God my baby’s all right!” Rachel said gently rocking in her seat.

“Is Andrew with them?” Desmond asked feeling very uncomfortable that Dr. Tolliver had not been mentioned him yet.

Dr. Tolliver froze for a brief moment and while looking Desmond dead in the eyes said, “Your daughter and grandson were in a very serious accident tonight.”

Rachel, still basking in the good news regarding Rebecca, did not immediately pick up on the doctor’s avoidance of Desmond’s direct question. Desmond felt all the blood drain out of his face as he prepared himself for what the doctor was about to tell him next. Gripping Rachel’s shoulder tightly he hoped she would not fall apart before the doctor was able to finish his story.

Dr. Tolliver began reciting the events immediately leading up to and following the car accident. Rebecca and Andrew were out for a late night drive when a speeding car hit them broadside as they went through an intersection. The driver of the other car, actually a pick-up truck, sustained no injuries and phoned for medical assistance.

The force of the impact tossed Rebecca’s head against the car door window. She sustained some minor cuts and abrasions and was knocked unconscious. Dr. Tolliver stated that she has a minor to severe concussion and would remain in the hospital overnight for observation.

Desmond noticed that Dr. Tolliver’s body stiffened ever so slightly before he reported, “Your grandchild was thrown clear of his child seat and knocked immediately unconscious upon impact of what we presume was the windshield.”

“Dear God,” mumbled a horrified Rachel.

Closing his eyes Desmond winced at the haunting image of his grandchild being hurdled into the windshield.

“We tried everything we could,” Desmond heard the doctor announce through the growing fog in his head, “but, we never could get him to regain consciousness…I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry.”

“Dear God”, mumbled Rachel once again holding onto Desmond’s waist limply but firmly. Her mind raced between the thought of losing a grandchild and the pain Rebecca must feel at losing her son.

“I must see her,” Rachel heard herself say. Looking up at Dr. Tolliver she forcefully pleaded, “Can I go see my daughter? Is she able to see me?”

“Yes, you can go see her.”

Desmond helped Rachel up and supported her arm with his. Rachel leaned into Desmond for a brief second, and then stood up straight and proud. “Our daughter needs us,” she proclaimed.

“Rache,” Desmond began, looking deep into her eyes, “do you mind walking to the room by yourself? I have a couple of things I need to talk to the doctor about.”

“Sure,” Rachel responded somewhat dryly, “I would like to spend a few minutes alone with her anyway.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Desmond asked tenderly.

“My daughter needs me,” said Rachel with strong determination.

“You go ahead then,” Desmond said slowly letting go of her arm.

“She’s in room 223,” Dr. Tolliver intoned, “Her husband was still with her when I left.”

Rachel nodded and turned to exit the room. As soon as she was out of voice range Desmond asked, “Did the seat belt break?”

“No,” Dr. Tolliver said slightly above a whisper, “the seat belt did not appear to have been fastened.”

Desmond scanned Dr. Tolliver’s eyes not sure what to ask next. Dr. Tolliver sensing Desmond’s confusion offered, “Your daughter is still in a state of shock. We probably won’t know for a couple of days what she’ll remember about the accident. These things happen so quickly and with a concussion one cannot be sure she’ll even remember the accident let alone the fact that she may have forgotten to fasten her son’s seat belt.”

“Thank you Doctor,” Desmond said still in a daze. “I guess I’ll go see her now.”

Leaving the room Desmond felt somewhat nauseous as he once again pictured Andrew flying through the air. He wondered if Andrew ever understood that he was in danger. Maybe, thought Desmond, Andrew felt no pain. Maybe it happened all so suddenly and he was knocked unconscious before he could sense there was something wrong. Desmond stopped in the hall and prayed that Andrew had indeed died a quick and painless death. He pictured Andrew’s smiling and innocent eyes and could not bear the thought of him experiencing any pain.

Still feeling queasy Desmond decided to walk up the stairs and not take the elevator. Listening to his own footsteps hollowly ringing out in the empty stairwell Desmond could not help but wonder why Rebecca had not fastened Andrew’s seat belt.

As he climbed slowly up the stairs Desmond pictured Rebecca buckling Andrew up. He had seen her perform this ritual numerous times, but could not recall her ever leaving him sit unrestrained, even for a short ride down the block. Desmond knew that there must have been a special circumstance causing Rebecca to let Andrew sit free.

By the time he reached the door at the top of the stairs, Desmond had come up with the following theory. The only reason Rebecca would have taken Andrew out for a late ride in the rain evening would be to help him get to sleep. The only reason she would have left the seat belt off was if having it on made him crabby and restless and the prospect of sleep more doubtful. This, Desmond concluded, could be the only explanation of why the seat belt wasn’t fastened, if indeed if wasn’t.

Desmond’s thoughts were interrupted by the pained cries of the two women he loved most in the world. All the way down the hall he could distinguish the muffled voices and cries of Rachel and Rebecca as they talked and cried during endless embrace. No one noticed Desmond as he entered the room. He stood motionless at the doorway watching and listening to Rachel and Rebecca clutching on to each other and crying amidst emotional verbal exchanges.

After a few moments of being transfixed by this intense scene of love and pain, Desmond’s eyes shifted over to Mark seated quietly next to the bed. Mark was leaning forward in his chair with his head and shoulders slumped over.

Desmond walked over to Mark and ever so gently placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder. Mark’s blood shot eyes looked up at Desmond, but he said nothing. Desmond, too, found nothing to say to Mark. After a brief moment, Mark’s head slumped back down. Desmond gave Mark’s shoulder one last squeeze and passed his attention back over to Rebecca.

As a minister, he had seen this scene and heard these words of pain so many times. While attending to other’s tragedies he had often wondered how he would feel if such a thing were to happen to him. He always empathized with the pain of others, and tried his hardest to put himself in their shoes. His words of consolation and support were always sincere and well thought out. Yet, for the first time in his life, he did not know of a single thing to say.

He stood painfully watching his wife and daughter not knowing what to say or do. He was completely paralyzed and found any possible response to the moment empty and futile. There was not a single thing he could do right now which would lessen the pain and loss his wife and daughter were experiencing. Though he loved them both dearly, he felt saddled by an inexplicable distance. He watched, waited and wished that he could find a way into the world of emotion they were consumed by. A world so different from the one he was feeling.

Rebecca finally recognizing that Desmond was in the room let go of her mother and reaching out her arms towards Desmond cried out, “Daddy! Oh, Daddy!”

Desmond clutched onto Rebecca with all his might and felt the full force of her chin burrowing into his shoulder.

“Becky, my dearest Becky,” Desmond whispered as her pain flashed through his body. Tears came to his eyes, but no words came to his lips, as he rocked and cradled his precious daughter.

“I’ve lost my baby! I’ve lost my Andrew!” Rebecca wailed. The grief and pain in her voice were replaced by vengeful anger when she said, “He killed my baby! He took my baby away!”

Desmond’s body stiffened at the violence in his daughter’s voice. He held on even tighter hoping his care would melt away the thunder of anger pulsing through her.

“Murderer!” she cried out. “Mr. Bell killed my child!”

The anger and hatred broke through the dam and all the tears came rushing back. Her body just a moment ago rigid and stiff with hatred now went limp. The angry lady of a few moments ago was quickly replaced by the lost little girl who used to come to him when she scraped her knee.

“He just came out of nowhere, Daddy,” Rebecca confessed between sobs. “One moment I was looking down at my little angel and the next this horrible light flashed into the car a split second before we were hit.”

Desmond gingerly placed his finger tips at the edge of the bandages that covered the majority of Rebecca’s head. His impulse was to stroke her hair and gently pat her head, but he thought touching any part of her head might be a bad thing to do. He decided that even those parts of her skull not bandaged or bruised were probably tender or unsafe to touch due to her concussion.

Rebecca’s grip on Desmond stayed firm as she went on to recount her version of the accident. Though she said nothing of the unfastened seat belt, Desmond was sure she remembered. The way she talked on and on about the “murderer” leaping out of the darkness was testimony itself that she wanted all responsibility to be taken away from her.

During her account of the accident, Rebecca flipped back and forth between anger and hurt. She would lash out at Mr. Bell the “murderer” of her child, and then break down into frighten tears of desperation. Desmond felt as if he were on a small boat on the open seas weathering the force of a hurricane. His entire body would stiffen to resist being tossed about by her moments of rage, and then he would have to strain to keep her afloat during her times of desperation.

The strength in Rebecca’s embrace was something he never experienced before. She had clung onto him many times before, but never quite like this. Desmond thought back to some of her most fierce embraces; when she announced her engagement to Mark, after the birth of Andrew, the day Gunther their German Shepherd died, and the time she was frightened by a rattle snake. They all were powerful moments, but this embrace was very different.

Desmond felt as if he were being held captive by Rebecca’s embrace. Her arms refused to let him go, as if she needed to convince him of something. He felt her heart beating fast and hard, he could feel each breath being sucked into her lungs, and could feel the depth of each sob reverberating throughout her body.

Yet, the thing which most occupied Desmond’s attention was a little quiver that shivered through her body when she paused between words. It felt a little bit like the spasmodic breath she used to have when she cried very deeply as a child. This quiver though, was not a spasm of someone gasping for air. It seemed more like a shudder, caused by the very thought of something which repulsed or scared her.

It seemed to Desmond as if she were quivering every time she remembered something especially horrible about the accident. Something she could not help but think about, but never spoke. Something she hoped to erase from her mind by endless talk and accusations. Desmond was almost certain it was a shiver of guilt caused by her vision of an untethered Andrew being flung into the windshield.

Desmond wanted to end her guilt, to help erase that memory from her mind. Yet, how could he if she were not brave enough to admit to herself its existence. Each quiver felt as if she were burying her guilt ever deeper into her heart, ever deeper into the realm of nightmares. Desmond could feel that Rebecca was holding on to gain his forgiveness for something she was too scared to admit doing. She wanted to hold on to him until she convinced herself that the death of her child was not her fault.

Desmond held his suffering daughter as tightly as she held him. He closed his eyes tightly, and not knowing what else to do, began silently praying for her. Oblivious to all but her pain, Desmond tried to make his prayers stronger than the terror which now gripped his daughter. A terror with hands much more powerful than his.