wait!” he shouted. “I’m right here! I’m fine! Bec, where are you going?”
Rebecca and her escorts got into the elevator and Andy followed, though it was becoming clear that nobody could see or hear him. Things were beginning to fall into place. As impossible as it all was, everything was starting to make sense and Andy was terrified.
“How is he, doctor?” Rebecca asked as the elevator crept upwards.
The doctor and the policeman exchanged glances. The doctor cleared his throat and reluctantly reported:
“He’s in critical condition, Mrs. Simon. He was impaled through the chest by a piece of metal from the other vehicle. He has lost a lot of blood and he has a concussion from where his head hit the windshield. If he hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt, he would have been thrown through the windshield and we would be having a different conversation right now.”
Andy put a hand to his chest, where the pain was getting increasingly worse, and then to his head, where his hand once again came away covered with blood. The doctor was still talking, but Andy could barely understand him. He couldn’t have been in an accident. He didn’t remember any accident, and he was there, wide awake, healthy, and…
“Oh, God, that hurts!” He fell to the elevator floor on his knees. Clutching his chest, he stared up at the face of his weeping wife.
“Tell me honestly, doctor,” she said, “what are his chances?”
The doctor hesitated, but as the elevator doors slid open he quietly said, “Not good. I’m very sorry.”
Andy somehow made it to his feet and was able to follow the three of them down the hallway. They passed a pair of swinging doors with the words “Intensive Care Unit. Authorized Personnel Only” printed on them with bold red letter. They paused outside the door to one of the rooms. Rebecca took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
“Mrs. Simon,” the police officer said, “are you sure that you want to go in there? You don’t have to.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion, “I do.”
For a moment, Andy was sure that Rebecca would tell the cop that a mistake had been made and the man lying on the bed in the room was not her husband. But he followed her in and saw for himself. There, lying in the hospital bed and attached to half a dozen machines, lay Andy Simon. His exposed chest was bandaged, as was his head, but the face was unmistakable. Andy had been shaving that face for fifteen years.
“Andy!” Rebecca wailed. “Oh my God!”
She ran to his side and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. The lifeless body gave no response. She was sobbing uncontrollably and the doctors, nurses, and the police officer all stood back respectfully, allowing her this moment.
Andy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Standing back a ways, he was able to hear the two nurses’ hushed whispers.
“It’s a real shame,” one said. “He was five minutes from work and now…”
“And his poor wife,” added the other. “It’s a tragedy, that’s for damned sure.”
“No!” Andy yelled. “No! That’s not me! That’s not me! I’m right here! Can’t you people see me? Damn it, I’m standing right here! Bec…”
One of the machines that Andy was hooked to started to beep frantically and the medical personnel moved in.
“Something’s wrong,” a doctor said.
“What? What’s going on?” Rebecca asked.
“Stand back please, Mrs. Simon,” the doctor said gently, but firmly.
She moved back a step and watched the doctors and nurses surround her husband. Andy moved to her and put a hand over her shoulder. He didn’t know if she could feel him, but he could feel her, and even her trembling sobs seemed to bring him comfort. But even so, he kept yelling.
“I’m here! I’m here! I’m here, DAMN YOU!!!”
“He’s going into cardiac arrest,” a doctor said.
“Oh no,” Rebecca cried. “No, Andy, no!”
Andy could feel pain coursing through his body, but he held tightly to his wife’s shoulder as he kept trying to get the attention of those in the room. The more he yelled, the more he hurt, the louder the machines beeped, and the more frantic the doctors became. Finally, he could hold onto his wife no longer and he fell to the cold floor, staring in agony at the feet of the people around the body.
“I’m right here,” he whimpered. “I’m right here.”
“He’s flat lining!” he heard a nurse say. A few seconds later he heard someone yell, “Clear!” His body was jolted with a tingling heat and both the Andy on the floor and the Andy on the bed jerked violently. “Again. Clear!” The pain rocked him again.
“Don’t die on me, Andy,” Rebecca sobbed. “Please don’t do this to me! I need you! Our baby needs you!”
But it was no use. With every ounce of strength in what Andy was now sure wasn’t his body at all, he reached up and grasped his wife’s hand. The hand of the body on the bed closed as if gripping something. Then both hands released their grip and Andy Simon died.
Rebecca Simon nearly lost her baby and had to be rushed to a hospital room of her own where both she and the baby were stabilized. She stayed there for a few days to recover. In fact, the first time she left the hospital was for Andy’s funeral. Andy’s brother Terry handled the arrangements and he was the one who brought by a dress for her to wear and took her to the church.
The only thing that had kept her going through those days was the strange sense of peace that had come over her as she watched her husband die. It was as if he was there, holding her hand and comforting her as the life drained from his body.
Terry took her back home to the Fairview Estates after the funeral. She hadn’t been there since leaving a week ago for the hospital. The townhouse seemed so empty, as did she. Terry told her to change and shower and then sit down to rest while he went to the kitchen to cook her a good meal. She agreed and went to her bedroom while he went to the kitchen. It was her bedroom now, not hers and Andy’s.
She noticed that the answering machine on the phone in the bedroom was blinking with numerous messages. Andy had insisted that the machine be placed in the bedroom so that they could screen any calls without having to get out of bed. She saw that there were twenty-seven messages, which meant that the machine’s memory was most likely filled. Most were probably calls of condolences from family and friends, which she didn’t feel like listening to at the moment, but for some reason she placed the play button anyway.
Andy’s voice suddenly filled the room.
“Bec, you there? Pick up if you’re there. Hello? Anyway, I’m not going to work today.”
Rebecca stared in silent awe as the message played, not believing her ears. When Andy ended the message with, “I love you. Bye,” the machine informed her that message had been left at 9:15 a.m., Friday the seventeenth, twenty minutes after the accident. What that message had been left Andy was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital and she…
…and she was on the phone talking to a police officer.
Author’s note: I wrote this story a few years back and found it in a drawer. I always loved this little piece of strange fiction. It’s not exactly horror, but parts of it gave me goose bumps even as I was writing it. The Fairview Estates exists in my mind as a place where strange and sometimes terrifying things often happen to its residence. Andy Simon isn’t the first one either. Although I don’t mention the gated community in the story, Little Janie and her mother Angela in “Mommy, there’s something under my bed.” also live in the same community. I hope to revisit Fairview soon. Hope you will too.
Have fun reading, and if you get scared by some of my stories, then I’ve done my job.
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