I hear a man through the open window, but I can only see Daddy. His head is lying on the window edge, and his mouth isopen. I think it’s raining because his hair looks wet in the dark. The sirens sound like firetrucks coming. Maybe they’ll help us.
“Daddy, wake up,” I whisper, but I don’t think he can hear me.
“Hey, buddy. What’s your name?” The man keeps talking to me, but I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.
“Daddy, please wake up.”
“Somebody get me a blanket or something, now!” Why is he screaming? Why isn’t he waking up my dad? Shouldn’t someone be helping him?
I reach out to shake him, but he’s too far away. “Wake up, Daddy. Wake up, please. I’m sorry. Say something, please. I’m sorry.”
The light on the ceiling turns on, shining in my burning eyes for a second before I see my dad’s face.
“Hey, sweetie. You’re okay. We’re here to help.” She sounds nice, but she needs to help my dad.
It’s not raining, but the man by the window puts a coat over my dad’s red-soaked face as the nice-sounding lady starts touching my wrists and shining a light in my eyes.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me. Okay?” I do as the nice lady says.
“I want my mommy.”
“When the car stopped and they finally turned on a light, I could see his bloodied face.” Bodie hands me a tissue and quietly waits for me to continue. “I didn’t understand what was happening, but I could tell he wasn’t okay. I kept begging him to wake up. When the paramedic got me out of the car, I lost it. All I remember was screaming for my dad, begging for her to let me see him—to wake him up. They put me in the ambulance, and I just knew…” Bodie’s embrace is firm, safe. “I knew it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t. He decided to take his seat belt off.”
“It was, Bode. He wouldn’t have gone through the light if he wasn’t worried about getting me my ball back.”
“You were a child. He made an adult decision.”
Deep down, I know he’s right.
“They brought me to the hospital, and my mom showed up a little while later.” I remember my mom’s face when she first saw me—her eyes were red, and she looked mad. “She was already a mess. Barely spoke to me aside from asking if I was okay and comforting me while the doctors did every test under the sun on me.”
My chest tightens more with every word I utter.
“I didn’t know then, but I found out when I was older that she was on the call with him when the accident happened.”
“Did she tell you?”
“No. I kind of figured it out on my own in high school. Confirmed it when I found the accident report years later.”
I roll over to grab the bedside pail and bend over the edge of the bed while Bodie rubs my back. I’ve only ever talked to one other person before this, and they betrayed me. It’s too much.
Bodie gets out of bed, and my heart sinks because I need him here with me, but he comes back with water and napkins.
“Here. Sit up if you can.” It makes me think back to a couple months ago, when this new us started. I want to smile, but I just can’t right now. “Take a sip.”
With our feet on the wood floors, legs touching side by side, I feel grounded again. He has no idea the strength he gives me—neither did I until recently.
“If I wasn’t screaming for my ball, my father would still be alive today.” The air in my lungs leaves like a leftover gust of wind in the aftermath of a hurricane. “I’ve never said those exact words aloud before. It feels weird.”
“Weird in a good way or bad way?”
“Good, I think.”
“When we met, your mom was still in a bad place. I think you had your aunt staying with you, right?”
“Yeah. My mom’s sister. She came to help while my mom grieved. She stayed for about a year. I don’t remember a lot of that time with her. My therapist said trauma has a funny way of erasing memories on us, but it’s usually not the bad ones.”
