Running Wide Open

  “I don’t need a damned ambulance!”

  An uneasy feeling crept over me. It was totally unlike my uncle to give the paramedics such a hard time.

  “Race, you’re showing classic signs of head trauma. If I don’t—”

  Race clutched suddenly at the door of the ambulance, and Alex steadied him as he started to sway. “Oh, shit. . . . I feel really—” He slumped forward into the paramedic’s arms.

  Fear squeezed my chest, forcing out the air. What the hell was happening? He’d been fine just a second ago! Kasey’s grip tightened around my shoulders, and it was that, more than the damp breeze sweeping in from the surrounding wetlands, that chilled me.

  “He’s going to be all right,” she said, her voice soft in my ear. It seemed like she was trying to reassure herself as much as me.

  As Steve pulled a stretcher out of the back of the Cadillac, and Alex tended to Race, Ted went into drill sergeant mode, barking at the people who still crowded the edge of the track. “Get back! Anyone not helping with these cars, clear out!”

  All those times I’d watched shows like Cops and 911 I’d never thought about what must be going through the minds of the people involved. It seemed sick, now, that they could put that stuff on TV. That was my uncle Alex and Steve were working on, and I didn’t want anybody watching. Finally, I understood why Alex refused to talk about his job.

  A siren wailed far away down West 11th. I shivered, my knees going wobbly. Kasey’s grip was the only thing keeping me upright.

  Amber light from the tow trucks bathed the wrecked cars, the track, and the backs of the paramedics. The yowl of the siren got louder. I began to shake as the real ambulance pulled onto the track, its flashing red beams bleeding together with the yellow ones.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Kasey repeated, but the trembling in her voice made a lie of her words.

  The new paramedics took charge. Seeing us pressed against the front of the crowd, Alex slipped over to join us, his eyes solemn.

  “What happened?” I demanded. “He was just talking to you! What’s going on?”

  “Sometimes with head injuries it’s like—”

  “You told me no one ever gets hurt out here! You said!”

  “Cody—” Alex reached out, but I shoved his hand away.

  “You lied to me!”

  “Kasey?” Denny was suddenly there. “Give me the keys to the van. I’ll make sure all Race’s stuff gets back to the shop.”

  “They’re in the toolbox.”

  I tore away from Kasey’s grasp. “Who gives a shit about his stuff? What about Race? What’s gonna happen to him?”

  Kasey swung me around to face her, drawing me close with a little shake that cut through my panic. “He’s going to be fine, Cody,” she said, looking me right in the eye.

  But what if he wasn’t? What if . . .

  Ted touched Kasey’s shoulder. “The ambulance is ready to leave. You two should go. I’ll help Denny get things sorted out.” He looked across the track at the crumpled Dart and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Kasey.”

  It was the only time I’d heard him say anything in a civil tone.

  * * *

  The emergency room at Sacred Heart was glaring bright compared to the darkness outside. I shifted restlessly behind Kasey as she tried to give the lady at the admittance desk the information she needed.

  “And your relationship to the patient?” the woman asked. Something in her tone made me nervous. Didn’t they only let family see you when you got hurt bad?

  “They’re engaged,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Kasey agreed. I’d never heard her lie before.

  “So you can provide contact information for his parents?”

  “Just their names, but they live here in town.”

  How did Kasey know their names? Race hardly ever talked about his mom and dad.

  “Don’t call them,” I told the lady. “They won’t come, anyway.”

  “Cody, they have to be notified,” Kasey said. “They’re his parents.”

  “And that’s supposed to mean something?” My voice rose to an agitated squeak. Why did we have to go through all this crap? Why couldn’t someone just tell us what was wrong with Race?

  The lady at the desk asked about a hundred more questions that neither of us knew how to answer, then she told us to sit down and wait.

  “When are they gonna tell us something?” I asked, pacing in front of Kasey’s chair. I really needed a smoke, but I was afraid to leave the ER.

  “They’re doing the best they can. Just sit down, all right?”

  “I can’t.” I felt like I’d swallowed a dozen NoDoz. Besides, I knew that if I tried to chill, I’d disintegrate into a blubbering idiot. My thoughts strayed toward the edge of a dark path and I yanked them back before they could explore it any further.

  “Cody?”

  I swung around, startled to find Grandma behind me, even though I knew she couldn’t live more than ten minutes from the hospital. She’d cancelled her visit the previous summer, so it had been almost two years since I’d seen her. The one thing about her that had always stood out in my mind was how perfectly put-together she seemed. She didn’t look that way now.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, glancing between her and my grandfather.

  “Cody.” Kasey took my hand, giving it a warning squeeze.

  “No! They don’t have any right. They don’t even care about Race!”

  “They’re his parents,” Kasey said firmly. She got up and introduced herself, explaining how she knew their son. Grandma’s jaw twitched as she listened to what had happened, but she reacted to the news with her typical stoicism. Grandpa stood rigid, glaring at me like the whole thing was my fault.

  I slumped into a chair and glowered as my grandmother pestered Kasey for details we didn’t know. Why couldn’t she sit down and shut up? Kasey didn’t need the stress of having to comfort her. Especially now, when I knew damned well she was as scared as I was.

  It seemed like a year before a doctor called for my grandparents. If I hadn’t been so freaked out, I would’ve been pissed he assumed they had some claim on my uncle. I wedged myself between him and everyone else. “Is Race gonna be okay?”

  The doctor looked past me toward Grandpa with a seriousness that made the bottom drop out of my stomach. “He’s all right, isn’t he?” I demanded. “Can I see him?”

  “I’m afraid not, son.” The doctor glanced at me and then away. “You’re the parents?” He directed the question at my grandfather.

  “I want to see him!”

  “That’s not possible—” Before the doctor could finish, panic kicked in, jacking up my heartbeat till I could practically hear it. If Race was all right, why were they trying to keep me away?

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  “Then why can’t I see him? You’ve gotta let me see him!”

  Hands clamped around my upper arms. I jerked my head around to see my grandfather’s face inches from mine.

  “That’s enough!” he said.

  “Leave me alone!” I yanked free, whipping around to face him. When he raised his hand I swung on instinct. Two months earlier, I probably would’ve hit the stupid son of a bitch, but somehow I caught myself in time, slamming my fist into the wall instead. Pain seared through my hand.

  “Don’t touch him,” Kasey told my grandfather, her arms going around me. My eyes welled with tears, but I refused to let them fall. “Can’t you see that he’s upset?” Kasey’s voice was fierce. She pulled my head against her shoulder and stroked my hair, like I was some scared animal she was trying to comfort. “Cody,” she said softly. “You’re going to have to calm down or they’ll make you leave. Okay?”

  I took a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah.” I pushed away from her, stifling a whimper as I bumped my sore hand.

  The doctor seemed to be waiting for the family drama to end. I knew he was gonna tell us something we did
n’t want to hear.

  “What’s wrong with my son?” Grandma asked.

  The doctor’s eyes met hers and he cut to the point. “The CT scan shows bleeding, and it’s causing pressure to build up within his skull. We can relieve that pressure surgically, but I need your consent.”

  “What will happen if you don’t operate?” Grandma asked.

  “The intracranial pressure will continue to rise, resulting in extensive brain damage and, ultimately, death.”

  Grandma paled. “But with surgery he’ll be okay?”

  “It’s not quite that simple. Certainly, it will improve his chances, but the mortality rate for this type of injury is upwards of 60 percent. Even if your son survives, I can’t guarantee there won’t be permanent brain damage.”

  It was all happening so fast, I couldn’t process one idea before the next one hit. Surgery? Intracranial pressure? Brain damage? And then that big one: a mortality rate upwards of 60 percent. I didn’t think I could handle fear this huge. I was sure it would knock me out. But it didn’t. In spite of it, I was still standing there with my hand throbbing and Kasey’s fingers digging into my arm.

  “What do I need to sign?” Grandma asked.

  The doctor held his clipboard out to her, indicating multiple places on the form. Grandma scribbled her signature.

  “What now?”

  “Someone will show you to the proper waiting area. We’ll let you know when he’s out of surgery.”

  When the doctor left, Grandpa said he was going for a cup of coffee. He didn’t ask Grandma or Kasey if they wanted one. I eased myself into a chair, cradling my hand against my stomach. It hurt like hell.

  “Let me see,” Kasey said. She tried to be gentle, but I yelped.

  “This is really swollen, Cody. I think you might have broken something.”

  “Good thing we’re at the hospital.” Laughter came over me suddenly, and I couldn’t make it stop. Race would’ve appreciated the joke.

  “Shhh.” Kasey pulled me close. “It’s okay.”

  The doctor’s words snuck back into my head. A mortality rate upwards of 60 percent. What did that mean? Sixty-one percent? Sixty-nine? What if Race died? What if—I couldn’t let myself think that. He was gonna be okay. He had to be.

  “I’m scared, Kasey.” The words came out in a quaver.

  “I know. Me too.” She held me until I stopped shaking. “Now let’s go get your hand taken care of.”

  It wasn’t broken, just bruised. A doctor bandaged it and gave me a shot for the pain that really messed with my head. As I leaned against Kasey in the surgery waiting area, time slowed to a trickle, but my thoughts raced along at a hundred miles an hour. They always came back to that same terrifying idea. Whenever it crept into my head, I swatted it away, not allowing myself to consider what exactly it might mean.

  “Kasey?”

  I looked up. Denny, still clad in his grungy firesuit, filled the doorway with his bulk. He covered the distance between us in three long strides.

  “They wouldn’t tell me anything at the front desk—said I’d have to speak to the family.” He sized up Grandpa with a scowl and nodded at Grandma with sympathetic respect. Whoa. Denny knew my grandparents?

  Kasey stood up, fixing on Denny like a stranded hiker catching her first glimpse of Search and Rescue. When he stepped forward, she allowed herself to be drawn into his mammoth embrace.

  “How bad?” he asked.

  Kasey pulled her head away from Denny’s chest, shaking it slightly. “Not here.” She led him out into the hall, away from the hostility that shimmered off Grandpa like heat from asphalt.

  A few minutes later they returned. Denny sank down beside me. “Don’t you worry, Cody,” he whispered, leaning close. “Race knows how much you and Kasey need him. If he has any say in this, there’s no way he’s gonna leave the two of you.” He patted my leg, and I realized he hadn’t even stopped long enough to wash up. Grease embedded the creases of his hands, and the scent of it clung to his firesuit.

  Time inched by. I sagged against Kasey. Absently, she rubbed my back, soothing me with a sort of comfort my mother hadn’t offered in years. I tried to force my mind to be still, but it kept rattling on like it was following lines of code from the basic programming class at my old school. If Race died then . . . I cut off the thought. Race wasn’t gonna die. He couldn’t.

  It was almost two when the surgeon finally came out to talk to us. “The surgery was successful,” he said. “We were able to evacuate the hemorrhage using a minimally invasive procedure. He’s in recovery now, but they’ll be taking him up to ICU shortly.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Grandma asked. Like she hadn’t heard the other doctor. Like she was hoping he was wrong.

  “It’s too early to make a prediction,” the surgeon told her, his compassionate tone not taking the sting out of his words. “The thing you have to understand is that in cases like this there are two types of injury. The first occurs with the initial impact and the second results from swelling. It’s this secondary damage that we’re worried about now. We’ll attempt to minimize it with drugs and by keeping your son sedated and on a ventilator, but the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”

  “When can we see him?”

  “It may be some time yet. You can go up to the ICU waiting room if you’d like, but I’d advise you to go home and get some sleep. It’s late.”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Grandpa, glancing at the clock.

  “William—” Grandma protested.

  “I know this is difficult,” the doctor said. “It’s only natural that you want to be with your son. But you won’t do him any good by wearing yourselves out.”

  Grandma nodded and unfolded herself from her chair. “Let’s go, Cody.”

  “What?” Her words cut right through my drug-induced stupor.

  “You’re coming home with us, of course. I’ll call your father in the morning. Even if—well, let’s just say it will be a long time before Race is able to take care of you again.”

  Bam. There it was. The thought I hadn’t allowed myself. The conclusion to that If-Then statement. I stared at Grandma, stunned.

  “I’ll take care of him,” Kasey said. Her arms closed around me with a firmness that told me going home with Grandma was the last thing I needed to worry about.

  “I hardly think that’s appropriate.”

  “And I hardly think it’s appropriate to add to Race’s trauma by taking away someone he cares so much about.” Kasey’s voice cut like a torch searing through steel. “Don’t you think he’s already lost enough tonight?”

  Grandma eyed her with astonishment. Clearly, she wasn’t used to people talking to her like that. “You may be right,” she said softly. “I’ll be back in the morning. We can discuss it further then.”

  “What about you?” asked Denny as my grandparents filed through the doorway.

  “I have to see him,” Kasey said.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Denny, no. It’s after two. You need to go home to your family. They won’t let you into ICU anyway.”

  “And they’ll let you?”

  A sad smile twisted Kasey’s lips. “They think I’m his fiancée.”

  Denny shook his head, a hint of amusement temporarily eclipsing the haunted look in his eyes. “If you need me to stay . . .”

  “We’ll be all right.”

  He told us he’d be back first thing in the morning and gave both of us a hug. When he was gone Kasey took me upstairs, where she picked up the phone on the wall and spoke to one of the nurses in ICU.

  “Just a few more minutes,” she said, leading me to one of the couches in the waiting area. “Will you be all right out here by yourself?”

  “I want to see him, too.”

  Kasey shook her head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Cody.”

  “But—”

  “Just wait here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

&n
bsp; The ten minutes Kasey was gone seemed like an hour. When she returned, pale and trembling, I knew she’d been right not to let me go. Whatever it was that had shaken her up that bad, I didn’t want to see.

  “I don’t want to leave,” I said.

  “Me either. I’d just lie awake all night listening for the phone.” Kasey sat down and pulled me close. “We’ll stay here, okay?”

  Exhausted, I huddled in her arms, the pain in my hand cutting right through the stuff they’d given me. All night long, Kasey had been trying to reassure me, telling me everything was going to be all right, even though I knew she didn’t believe it herself. Now she cried, barely making a sound as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

  Seeing that scared me more than anything else.

  Chapter 18

  The underside of the car—the part that’s never supposed to see daylight—rolled momentarily into view, then the Dart crashed down on all four wheels. Jim’s Camaro hurtled toward the yellow number 8 on the door.

  “No!”

  “Cody, it’s just a dream. Cody!”

  My eyes jolted open to the harsh light of the ICU waiting room. Kasey’s arm curled around my shoulders and my head rested in her lap.

  “Race. . . ?” I said, blinking up at her. The skin around her red-rimmed eyes was swollen. It looked like she hadn’t slept at all.

  “He’s still holding his own.”

  Relief washed over me, but it was only temporary. Twenty-four hours, the doctor had said. It had been only—what—maybe four? The clock on the wall read a quarter to six.

  The residue of the stuff they’d given me for my hand still clouded my head, but the pain had come back full-force. I felt groggy and at the same time like I hadn’t slept in a year. A weird sort of numbness clawed at my stomach. Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears.

  “Big boys don’t cry,” I whispered as Mom’s old mantra popped into my head.

  “What?”

  “Mom used to say it. ‘Big boys don’t cry.’”

  “That’s horrible,” Kasey said, stroking my hair. “What a cruel thing to tell a child.”

  “But it’s true.” I was shaking now, fighting hard to hold back the tears. Quick as they always were to spring to the surface, I hadn’t let myself give in to them since I was a little kid.

  “Oh, Cody. No wonder you’re so angry. It’s not a crime to have feelings.”

  “My mom thinks it is.”

  “Well, she’s wrong.”

  I shuddered in Kasey’s arms. One whimper escaped, then sobs wracked my body. Once they started, I couldn’t make them stop. What if I never got to see Race again? What if he died?