Nora didn’t know what to do. She knew she shouldn’t drive; she was forbidden to at least for the next few years, but their cocker spaniel, Stella, stood lethargically in their garage, red bile all around her. Nora didn’t know if Stella could wait four hours before her dad got home. She couldn’t call her parents, her mom had to perform surgery this morning and her dad, well, there was a reason why her mom was her emergency contact.
Nora tapped the linoleum table in front of her, eyeing the car keys.
The animal hospital was not that far down the road from her dad’s work, only a couple of miles. If she could just make it to his work, he could take Stella the rest of the way to the hospital, and she could wait in his office.
Nora snatched the keys.
She grabbed old, bleach-stained towels from the linen closet and laid them across the backseat of the car, to protect it from any potential upchuck. Nora carefully picked up Stella, trying to avoid putting pressure on her stomach, and placed her on the floorboard among the towels.
“It’ll be okay,” Nora said, petting her head. Stella whimpered in response.
Nora got into the car, faced the rearview mirror towards Stella, and started the engine. Already she could feel her nerves begin to prickle and her heart begin to race. No, I must remain calm. Nora took a deep breath in and out. In. Out.
Nora backed out of the garage and started in the direction of the car dealership where her dad worked.
Tony knew where he was headed; it was a place only a couple towns over, but not somewhere they visited often, only in passing. He drove down the highway with Pat Benatar playing “Love is a Battlefield” on the radio and the pink sticky note stuck on the dash of his car. Every few seconds, He would look at the writing on the note and his heart would leap, defying gravity and pushing against the constraints of his body.
Tony took the exit to his right and only a few seconds later, pulled into the car dealership on the edge of town.
The car dealership was, more specifically, a Ford dealership. In fact, there was a Ford plant not far away from where they lived where most of everyone worked. Terry and Tony only drove Chevys.
Tony pulled his car around and backed into a parking spot, facing towards the dealership. Through the tall glass windows, he could see a hulking red truck, the Ford F-150, and a Bronco. He could also see a couple of salespersons, male, in their dress clothes milling about. One could be him.
Tony breathed in. Tony breathed out. In. Out. In. Out.
Tony’s heart was sprinting a marathon. It was heaving, expanding as it pumped more blood through itself to keep it going. It was so close to the finish line. Pump. Pump. Pump. The heart was wheezing, its metaphorical legs burning with exertion. Finally, as the heart was on the precipice of crossing the finish line, Tony opened the door to his car and stepped out.
The air outside was dense with moisture and warm, uncomfortably warm. On days like this, when his mom would step outside, she would say, “it’s like stepping into a blow dryer.” The heat was so poignant.
Tony reached the glass doors, his palms slick with their own moisture. He wiped his hands on his pants and opened the door to the dealership.
Cool air blasted him, almost like a yeti just screamed in his face. Tony looked around, scanning the place for employees. His eyes caught on one man in particular, mid-thirties with slicked back hair.
He had walked in from a side door of the dealership with a couple, talking and expressively waving his hands like those inflatable things outside dealerships like this one.
Tony didn’t take his eyes off the man, transfixed by him. Something locked on his shoulder, and he felt a gust of air hit his neck.
“Hey there. What can I do for you today?”
Tony turned, shrugging the hand off his shoulder and faced the man. He looked to be more mid-sixties and close to kicking the bucket over a Big Mac. The man pulled from his pocket a container of multicolored tums, popping a handful in his mouth.
“I, uh, was just lookin’ around.” The man smiled a toothy grin and gave a low chuckle like, yeah kid I used to dream of these cars too. He probably still does.
“Was there anything in particular you were lookin’ at?” Tony shifted his eyes back toward the direction of the salesman and the couple, but they were gone.
“No, no. Just wastin’ time.”
“I get it, I get it. Well, if you want someone to talk to cars about, I recommend you talk to Jimmy over there.’ The salesman turned waved to the guy with the couple Tony had been staring at earlier. They were on the other side of the building, talking by the Bronco. “He’s the best there is when it comes to knowin’ cars.” The man tilted his head. “Actually, son, I think I could get you to talk to him right now. Would you like that?”
“Well, uh-”
“Perfect,” the man cut him off, “I’ll just take you over there and you can talk to him while I take that nice couple.” The man guided Tony over to Jimmy, his hand fastened to his shoulder.
Jimmy looked over and saw the man guiding Tony over and hurriedly looked back over at the couple.
“Hey Jimmy,” the man called. Jimmy acted like he didn’t hear him, but the couple glanced his way.
“Jimmy.” the man said. This time Jimmy sighed and came over, the couple in tow.
“Yes, Dad.” Dad?! Tony looked up at the man once again, this time searching for any similarities. He could see it a little in the jaw, but mostly it was the eyes. Those warm amber eyes meet him in the gaze of Jimmy and in the mirror.
“I have the boy here, who wanted to know about cars” Tony opened his mouth to object but the man continued “so I told him he can talk to you and I can help out this fine couple here.” Jimmy set his mouth in a hard line but he turned to the couple.
“I’m going to turn you guys over to my dad, Frank; you will be in much better hands. Frank has been here twenty-seven years.” Frank. Such a simple name for a simple guy, Tony thought.
“You are too kind, Jimmy.” Frank strutted over to the couple and led them away, his voice booming in the large room. He started his relationship with the couple by telling them about how he haggled to get a car so well that the dealership offered him a job.
Tony looked back over to Jimmy and found him staring at him.
“So you wanted to know about cars, kid?” Tony opened his mouth to reply, to say that he was actually here for something else, but again he was interrupted. Going a steady ninety-seven miles per hour, an unassuming Subaru Forrester in cosmic blue pearl impacted the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, shattering it across the showroom floor. The force of hitting the glass did not stop the car. Neither did its collision with the rotund Frank. What did stop it was the hulking race red F-150 (although the truck was not left unscathed).
Tony’s mouth dropped at the scene before him: the broken glass, the two wrecked cars, Frank lying on his back, unmoving. It all looked unreal, but Tony knew what he was seeing was real. He could tell by the hot, dense air slowly drifting into the building from the outside. He knew that the heat would suffocate him, filling his lungs like water and choking him till he lost consciousness.
Jimmy moved first, rushing over to Frank. Tony swayed, blinking a few times at the scene before he followed Jimmy. The couple Frank was helping had pulled back away from his body, the woman crying into the husband’s back, her arms around him, as he was on the phone. Presumably with 911.
Frank laid there on the ground; brown eyes unfocused above him. Jimmy threw himself on the ground next to the man, his hands hovering above the body as his creased face took in the sight.
“Dad . . .” he whispered, looking at Frank’s face, ignoring the right half of his body, flattened and indented with tire tracks.
Tony stood behind him, staring at the man that was his grandfather. He didn’t know the man personally, having just met him, but his blood did. His blood wailed for Franks’ blood, like a lone baby whale calling out in the ocean for an answer it won’t receive.
Tony watched as Jimmy put his hand to Frank’s head, stroking his thinning hair before moving down and holding his weathered cheek.
A screech sounded from their left along with crunching glass. Tony looked up, spotting a teenage girl with green-streaked hair. Blood pooled around her hairline, almost as dark as her hair. One arm she held against her; the other was rubbing her neck. Her face was crunched in pain, but when she saw Frank she stopped in her tracks, her electric blue eyes widening at the scene before her. It wasn’t but two seconds before she turned and vomited on the concrete floor behind her. It was only then that Jimmy looked up at the girl responsible for his father’s death.
Nora was about halfway there, driving on the highway through the town, building upon buildings surrounding her. She clutched the wheel, trying to keep count of her breaths; holding them in for three seconds, releasing for three seconds. Nora kept the radio off, listening to Stella. When Stella’s breathing began to shallow and sharply quicken, Nora noticed. She flicked her eyes to the rearview mirror and saw the exaggerated rise and fall of her body, hearing the whistling wheezing from her nose.
Nora began to feel that all-to-familiar metallic taste in her mouth. It was like sucking on a penny, she told her doctor one time.
She lost track of her breathing, her breaths beginning to mimic Stella’s, shallow and quicken. All at once, she was away.
It was like a dream. You are in some sort of body, but control of actions is out the window. You just let your dream-body take you wherever it wants to. She saw her hands slacken on the wheel, the right dragging the wheel slightly down more on the right. She saw the speedometer increase. 70. 74. 79. 83. 86. 90. 91. 95. 97. She saw the dealership. She saw it getting closer. And closer. But she didn’t feel the impact. She didn’t recognize the man she hit. She didn’t feel him under the tires. She didn’t feel anything. When the red truck successfully stopped the car, her head hitting the wheel before whipping back, she saw darkness.
“Funny Girl? Jimmy said, staring into the girl’s eyes, stunned. The girl, Funny Girl, wiped her mouth and swallowed.
“Dad.” Her voice cracked. Jimmy ran towards her, taking her into his arms.
“Dad?!” Tony said, looking between the two of them. Man, I’ve heard that a lot today. Jimmy ignored him, pulling back a little to examine the girl’s hairline.
Tony just stood there, watching this moment between father and daughter, realizing how much he missed out on. He missed out on a dad, a sister, and a grandpa that he will never know. Now he is in a room with all of them, a whole cache of family he never got to have, and he is still missing out.
A heaviness settled in Tony’s heart; tears prickled his eyes. He looked back at the corpse of his biological grandfather, Frank, and knelt down beside him. Tony mimicked Jimmy’s actions, stroking his head before cupping his cheek. His hair was just as soft as it looked, like soft billowy clouds. And his cheek, his cheek held a pathway of ridges, each carrying a memory that was carved into his skin of a life lived and passed.
Tony retrieved his hand and leaned over the body of his grandfather, snaking his arms around his shoulders and chest, careful not to touch his compressed half.
“In Heaven, Grandpa. In Heaven.” Tony whispered.
“What are you doing? Get away from him, kid.” Tony looked up to see Jimmy walking towards him, Funny girl trailing. Tony pulled back his arms but didn’t get up, looking back down into his eyes. This is what mine will look like in death, he thought.
Funny Girl stared into the hard, amber eyes of her father. Those eyes always seemed warm to her, full of love; a contrast to her mom’s and her own calculating, cold blue eyes. Now, they stared at her, hard and dead. Instead of berating her, much like his eyes might suggest, much like she figured, he grabbed her in a hug. He squeezed her hard, her right arm throbbing under the pressure from being caught in the middle.
After a moment, her dad pulled back, examining her head and then the rest of her body for injuries. He sighed, realizing she couldn’t have anything life threatening if she was still standing there. His amber eyes snapped back up to meet hers.
“What were you doing, Nora Jean. Why were you driving?” Each sharp word cut through Nora’s head, making it pound louder and louder. Ever since she woke up, her head had been pulsating. Nora knew that if she focused, she could count the beats like she would sheet music for her clarinet.
“Stella!” She said, running back to the car. Nora opened the door to the backseat, it was surprisingly undamaged, and she peered down at the lump of soft brown curly fur on the floorboards. There was no movement, no erratic breathing like when Nora was driving. The cocker spaniel laid there peacefully still, looking as if she was almost sound asleep.
Nora covered her mouth with her hand and choked back a sound, turning to her dad. He had looked over her should and seen the dog lying there. He took her into his arms again.
“You shouldn’t have been driving. You shouldn’t have risked it.” Nora cried into his shirt, wiping her runny nose on the sleek fabric of his dress shirt.
“I know, I know. Stella’s dead and now Grandpa’s dead and it’s all my fault. I killed them. I killed them.” her voice cracked, and her sobs came out louder.
Nora felt her dad shift and suddenly pull away. Then she heard him say, “What are you doing? Get away from there, kid.”
“I said, get away, kid.” Jimmy said, tugging Tony’s shoulder. This time Tony stood, staring into his eyes.
“I was just saying goodbye to my grandfather.” Tony said, voice firm, eyes unwavering. He was not going to let the last, and only second, moment he’d ever have with his grandfather be taken away or tainted.
By now, sirens could be heard blaring through the open windows. In a few moments blue and red lights would flash, pulling up to the dealership, shining on them through the windows.
“Grandfather?” Jimmy said, scanning Tony’s face. He heard a gasp and looked towards Funny Girl. She stood there, eyes red and cheeks streaked with fresh tears, looking back and forth between Tony and Jimmy.
“How?” Tony looked cold into Jimmy’s eyes.
“Teresa Marie Clark.” Jimmy’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open a little.
“I need to sit down.” Jimmy said, already lowering himself onto the ground, ignoring the crunching particles of glass.
By now, paramedics and officers have flooded the building. The paramedics split up their focus on Frank, Funny Girl, and the vehicle while the officers focused on everyone else. The couple complied with them, allowing the officers to guide them out of the building to give statements.
Another couple of officers jogged over to them. The shorter one was pretty young, only a few years older than Tony. The taller one, although calling him tall was being generous, seemed more Jimmy’s age.
“Does anyone here need emergency assistance? We have another ambulance on its way.” Jimmy still sat on the ground, face slack and eyes staring off into some unseen place. Funny Girl kept looking between her father and her supposed half-brother, and Tony, jaw clenched, stared at Jimmy for a moment longer before addressing the officer.
Tony pointed to himself and Jimmy saying, “We weren’t physically affected,” he moved aside to reveal Funny Girl, “but she was the one in the car.” Funny Girl’s head whipped to him and narrowed her eyes in accusation. She would’ve escaped notice except for him. Brothers; she’s only had one for a few seconds and he was already getting on her nerves.
“Miss, why don’t you come with me? We’ll have the paramedics address your injuries.” the younger officer said, walking over to her and guiding her out of the building with his hand on her back, slightly pushing.
The other officer stooped down and tried looking into Jimmy’s eyes, but they were glazed and unfocused.
“Sir, I’m going to take you and your son outside for questioning.” Jimmy’s eyes snapped up.
“Why do you think this is my son?” he asked, voice wavering. The officer blubbered, his eyes wide and eyebrows lifted, realizing his mistake.
“Is this not your son? I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you two looked alike. My mistake. I’ll take you guys one at a time for questioning.” Jimmy looked up at Tony, roaming his face with his eyes, before waving his hand.
“You had it right the first time, officer; this is my son. I just think he looks more like his mother. We’ll go together.” Jimmy got up off the ground.
“O-okay. Sounds good. This way.” The officer started off towards the parking lot of the dealership, the two men behind him. They took the doors outside, something Tony thought was absolutely hilarious. There was a big gaping hole where the car ran through the store, and they chose to take the doors to get outside.
It started as a chuckle. Then a deep laugh. The final manifestation was a full belly, may-never-stop-laughing, laugh.
What has this day come to? Tony tried to find his father, which he did. As a bonus, he meets his grandfather, Frank. Then all of a sudden, his younger sister, who he didn’t know he had, drives through the dealership and kills his grandfather. Bing, bang, boom.
How long ago was mass? Tony looked down at his watch, around an hour ago. Tony bursts out laughing again. An hour. All of this occurred in one hour. What could happen if I spent a whole day with these people, he wondered.
When he finally got the laughing under control, although now he kept a smirk on his face, he looked up to see both his father and the officer watching him.
“Are you okay, son?” the officer asked. This almost sent him over the edge again considering the officer could have been his father before this day. But Tony held most of it in, just not the smirk.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m ready for questioning.” The officer nodded and pulled out a writing pad and pen. The click of the pen sounded off, too abrupt and sharp.
“Ok I am going to question you two separately. Sir, you can wait over there by the cop car.”
“I think I’ll go over to the paramedics; my daughter is being looked at.” The officer nodded looking at Tony, ready for questioning
The officer questioned Tony for a long time, checking and rechecking his story to see if there was anything Tony was willing to change about it. Then, Tony and Jimmy switched and the same happened to him. After Jimmy finished with the officer, he walked over to where Tony was leaning against the cop car. Tony nodded to Jimmy as he came to stand beside him.
Silence settled between them, but a lot of noise surrounded them. A set of paramedics were talking to Funny Girl while another set was finally wheeling out a body bag from the building. Tony could see Jimmy’s Adam’s apple bob in his periphery. A tow truck was pulling in, prepared to pull out the wrecked Subaru.
When the body was put in the ambulance, Jimmy peeled his eyes away from it and spoke to Tony.
“You know, I didn’t catch what your name was.” It wasn’t a question.
“Tony. My full name is Anthony James Clark.” Jimmy pursed his lips and nodded. Tony knew it was because of his middle name. Even though his mom didn’t tell Jimmy about Tony, she still named him after his dad.
“That’s a good name.” Their conversation died for a few minutes, neither knowing where to take it. What do you ask your father the first time you meet him? It sounded like some sort of twisted riddle.
“So you have a daughter.” It wasn’t a question. Jimmy snorted, looking over at Funny Girl.
“Yeah, she’s my baby. Nora Jean. She’s my only one.” he hurriedly added, “besides you, of course.” He tried to chuckle, but it was forced. Tony smiled.
“She wasn’t supposed to be driving, she has these stress seizures and we’ve all told her she can’t drive. But our dog was sick . . .” he trailed off. “Would you like to have dinner with us tonight? We’ll probably just go to Burger King or something.” Tony raised his eyebrows, surprised. This man just went through the hardest day he will ever have a work and he is asking one of the instigators of it to dinner.
“But if you want to come, I’d gladly pay.” He injected, startling Tony. Tony hesitated. “It’s okay if you don’t, I realize you have had a big day,” he snorted, “we all have. But I just feel like so much has happened, so much of every emotion, that why not continue it with a little dinner with your new dad and sister?” Jimmy paused. “If you want,” he added. Tony nodded.
Tony didn’t know about dinner. After everything that has happened, would it be wise for him to go and have dinner with this man? His daughter just killed his father and Tony’s mom might wonder why he isn’t home yet. Not to mention, he just watched a man, his grandfather, get run over by a car. Traumatizing does not even begin to describe his experience.
Yet despite these objections, Tony felt like he should say yes. It was all in those warm amber eyes the man possessed. There was hope and longing and love and exhaustion and sadness in them. This dinner wasn’t just about connecting to a son he didn’t know he had, it was also about escaping the unexpected pain of losing his father, of losing his dog, of almost losing his daughter. Of processing his new and sudden reality, one without his dad and with a new son, one step at a time. He needed something to distract him and bring hope, like dinner with a newfound son.
“I’ll go to dinner.” Jimmy’s head whipped around, and he was about to open his mouth to speak but Tony beat him to it. “On one condition, we go to Dairy Queen. I could really use a hot fudge sundae.” Jimmy smiled and nodded.
Megan Lewis
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About the Author
Megan Lewis is currently a sophomore studying English on the Writing Track and Theology and Religious Studies at Rockhurst University. She loves to write, especially short stories and prose poems, and normally incorporates themes of loss into her pieces; however, most of her work is still under construction.
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