As we were walking toward Howard's bike, Dixon said, "Expect a call from the insurance. They'll want a complete statement on the occurrence."
The occurrence! What a fucking asshole, I thought.
Howard and I said nothing to each other as we climbed on his motorcycle. As we took off down the street, Norman was giving his statement. Norman had regained his composure and was beginning again to look like the business executive he most assuredly was. Norman's' role was very defined. It could be altered momentarily but it would always reappear. In fact, the brief time after the accident, when Norman was trying to convience everyone that he was not a killer was probably the first time the real Norman had appeared in years.
Howard was riding very slowly and had a slight tremble in his hand, but then so did I. We rode the hour back to "Drink and Drown" without saying a word.
As Howard dropped me off at the bar, I asked if he had the drugs on him when we were talking to the cop.
"Take a look at this, Howard said. I'll show you a little trick."
With this he lifted the bike's seat and pointed toward his battery.
"So what? I said. It's a battery."
"Exactly what it's suppose to look like," he replied.
He then lifted the battery out and showed me the bottom. Again, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then Howard pushed at the battery bottom and I saw what the secret was. The battery had a false bottom so when you placed down upon something it would pick the item up. This is where the drugs had been hidden since leaving Delta. Even if we were searched along with the bike nothing would have been discovered. Howard was definitely no stranger to cruising with drugs and I had to admit I was damn glad this was true.
I asked Howard if he'd gotten the name of the hospital where Dan had been flown. Howard gave me the information and said that maybe he would run in to me there. Then, he was off and I was alone. I realized that I'd forgotten to get Howard's number or address.
My car was a '75 Firebird, with sport siding and mag wheels. It now looked like it was bought by a vain high school kid in an attempt to look cool. I guess at the time I purchased the car it was for that very reason. When I climbed in my hands were still shaking. Looking into the rear view, I noticed my face was quite pale. I took it slow on the way back to the apartment, feeling drained from the drugs and the horrifying experience. My main goal now was to sleep for a very long time.
Entering my apartment I noticed there were four messages on my answering machine, who cares I thought, I just want to crash. Then I remembered Liz. Maybe she was ready to get back together. I doubted it in this short of time but there was a chance. The first two messages were from Bill just wanting to see what I was up to. The third was from my parents (Oh God, was it another holiday already), and the fourth was indeed from Liz. All she said in the message was, "give me a call sometime, let's talk." This was sweet music to my ears but before I called her back I needed rest. And rest I did. I went to sleep early Friday morning and didn't wake up to 11 p.m. that night. Even then I only woke for a few hours before I feel asleep, again. This time I slept all the way to Saturday morning.
The next morning I called Dan's parents to find out about his condition. Dan's parents had always reminded me of Ward and June Cleaver but their son was certainly not "The Beve". Mr. Frostberg had always liked me because I was the only friend of Dan's that ever attended college. Mr. Frostberg sounded frail and tired.
"Hi, Tim," he said "how are those classes going?"
Even with his pain, Mr. Frostberg tried to be good old Ward.
"Classes are alright, I said. How's Dan?"
"He's alive but in a deep coma. Doctor's said, there was probably extensive brain damage," with this Mr. Frostberg began to weep. I felt very bad for him. Mr. Frostberg seemed phony at times but I sincerely believe he loved his son and was trying to be the best father he could be. It was very sad and I too wept a tear, more for Mr. Frostberg then for Dan.
I arranged to meet Dan's parents at the hospital. On the way to the hospital I thought about how a split second could change the lives of so many. When I met Dan's parents they looked old and feeble. But they were neither. Just devastated and heart broken.
"Hi Tim, glad you could make it," Mr. Frostberg said, with a broken voice.
I had no idea how to respond to this greeting. It was like I was at Dan's wake and he was attempting to be the gracious host.
"Glad I could make it," I finally said.
After these strange cordial greetings we walked to the Intensive Care Unit where Dan, or what was left of him, was being housed. The sick feeling I felt after the accident returned upon seeing Dan. He was in a body cast, and had tubes in his nose and mouth. Small droplets of blood were dripping from the one nostril. His face was covered by abrasions and bruises. His head, where the piece of helmet had been, was wrapped with many layers of bandages. There was a gray lifeless look to his entire appearance.
When you looked at him it was obvious; whatever Dan had been was gone. Dan's doctor came into the room and asked to speak with Dan's parents in another room. I waited by Dan's side reliving the accident in my mind. On one level I understood and accepted Dan's condition. But on another level I felt a chilling terror like I never had before. This was the first time I considered my own mortality. It was a primeval, raw sense of the abyss I felt. As someone once said "when you look into the abyss, it looks back."
The Frostberg's re-entered the room with a look of total gloom on their faces. Mrs. Frostberg knelt down and kissed her son's cheek. Mr. Frostberg asked if he could talk with me outside.
"Tim, I want you to know we appreciate your support. You've been a true friend to Dan. I sorry to have to tell you this but it looks as though Dan will not recover. If somehow he did pull through he most likely would be a vegetable for the rest of his life. His spine is fractured and his head injures are severe. The machines are the only things keeping Dan alive. The Doctor's have suggested the option of discontinuing life support. It's a hell of a thing for a man to decide if his son should die. My wife and I have decided to keep the support on for a time and pray for a miracle."
The Frostberg's were sobbing when I left. Dan had been a bit strange but he had been my friend for five years. Now, I guess he was gone from his family and me.
I tried to call Liz, and tell her of the freighting events that had transpired but all I got was her answering machine. "Liz, I love you and miss you very much," I said, to a machine, what a strange world.
The weather had become overcast and black. It reflected my mood perfectly. Seeing, one of my friends' lives extinguished before my eyes, and not knowing if Liz was serious about ending our relationship, was eating me alive. I'd not been to classes for almost a week and was way behind in the readings. It seemed the older I became the sadder life was. The last thing I should have to think about was classes, but if I didn't keep my grades up I would lose my loan money and be forced to quit school.
Living with my parents was no longer an option. They hadn't seemed too concerned about my life when I was a child and now they had lost all interest. It was made clear to me at an early age that I was to be out of the house when I turned eighteen. I was repetitively reminded that I was a good for nothing, bum that would never amount to anything. This piece of information was given to me by my tenth birthday. My parent's cold feelings convinced me to move out a year early, at seventeen. They were very pleased with this decision. I think it's the only time we ever agreed on anything.
My parent's main reason for having children was so they would seem in place with the other suburbanite neighbors. Appearances were very important to my parents. The Hudson's belief was how you appeared in public was important but what occurred in private meant nothing. It was nice when you were young in some ways though, you could come and go as you pleased and do anything you wanted as long as it didn't disturb them. The only time I remember my parents showing any warmth toward their children were in public arenas. My father, William B. Hudson's image, was that of a powerful business executive. At home he was more of a paranoid, insecure, tyrant with delusions of grandeur. He felt children were nothing but possessions that existed to obey his commands and worship him as a king. Mary, my mother also had most aspects of her life controlled by William. Over the years she had accepted this and was now not even aware that it was true. Unfortunately, for William the children did not become such willing servants. The more Dad tried to control us the stronger we resisted. This of course resulted in many heated arguments. Mary would usually side with William in these conflicts but not always. When Mom did support the children it would infuriate William causing a rift between my parents that would last for months. The children caused the martial problems, in their mind so; they became even more resentful of us. This is all water under the bridge now.
My parents live in the Bahamas and my brother and sister live in different states. Dad has mellowed with growing older and my parents seem now to be deeply in love. When I speak to them, it's still awkward but not like before. I'm sure Dad is King of his little castle, but I believe he's now a more merciful ruler. If I could forget the past, I would probably be a lot closer to them. I know that I love them both, but with each year it seems less likely these words will ever be said. I don't blame my parents for any of my current shortcomings. Still, I know there is a small child inside of me wondering why he is being called worthless and why his Mommy and Daddy don't love him.
Liz phone call woke me up on Sunday morning. It was very comforting to hear from her. She spoke in a soft, gentle but somewhat sad manner. She asked if I cared to go on a walk with her.
"I have something's I think we should discuss," she said.
"Sure Liz, I said, how about this afternoon."
We arranged for a time to meet and my sprits were suddenly lifted. I was curious what Liz wanted to talk about and concern to why she sounded sad.
When I saw Liz there was no doubt in my mind, I was in love with her and always would be. Looking into her eyes I felt swept into another land. Her soul radiated out from her beautiful, sweet sparkling blue eyes. She was a goddess. Her long, silky, blond hair swayed dreamily in the breeze. When Liz looked at me with her shy sensitive smile, my entire body felt as though it would melt. If only we could run away to a quiet tropical island and leave all the sorrow of this plain behind.(Continued on Delta V)
