“Goodnight.” He says, and it’s like watching waves of the ocean become stronger and stronger until you’re not able to swim anymore, and the water whisks you away.
“Goodnight.” I whisper, slipping into the darkness of the bedroom, crashing into the bed blindly.
16
What the hell?” I’m stumped by today’s mini crossword, and was consequently startled by a panicked Dean, who opened the bedroom door without any warning. Thankfully, I was already awake, even though it’s just past 6 in the morning.
“It’s Sierra,” He says.
“Oh, fuck,” I immediately sit up, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “What happened?”
“I have five missed calls from Northern Maine Medical Center saying Sierra is here, and they couldn’t reach our mother. And another five calls from Sierra herself saying Johnny crashed the car on the side of Route 1, and she’s got a broken arm, and needs a ride home.”
“Oh, shit,” I say, standing up.
“Did you call her back?” I ask.
“Yes, but she didn’t pick up.” He paces back and forth in the doorway.
“Her phone could have died. Did you call the hospital?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to wake you first…but you were already awake.”
“Yeah, I’m awake,” I say, walking over to my suitcase to close it up. “Come on, let’s go. We should get there as soon as we can.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, but once my suitcase is zipped up, he lifts it off the dresser and rolls it out of the room. In the living room, I toe my shoes on and put on my coat, where Dean is already waiting.
I shoulder my tote bag, and we head outside. It’s bitterly cold, with winds coming from all directions, and there’s no reprieve from it in the van where it seems the heat is taking longer than usual to warm everything up.
“I think the van’s heat is crapping out,” Dean says, turning the heat dial all the way to the right, as warm as it will go. “Fuck.”
“It’s okay, it’ll warm up as we drive.” I try to reassure him. “It’s a short drive anyhow.”
It’s only twenty minutes to the medical center. Dean drives five miles per hour over the speed limit on the way there but slows down as we approach a stalled car on the side of the road.
“That looks like my mom’s car.” Dean remarks. “Fucking Johnny.”
Sure enough, there’s a busted-up Chevy Spark on the side of the shoulder of Route 1. It looks like it was run into the metal barrier around the curve of the road. It’s a miracle they didn’t tumble down the side of the hill into the ravine.
“Can you look up a towing company around here?” Dean asks me.
“Yeah, of course,” I say. “Where do you want it towed to?”
“A shop in Allagash, probably.” He sighs. “This blows.”
“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” I don’t know what to say—it’s not like he wants my help. He made that abundantly clear last night.
We pull into the parking lot of the small medical center and park the van right out front, near the emergency department entrance. Dean doesn’t say anything to me as we leave the van, his mind clearly elsewhere. He power walks straight to theautomatic sliding doors of the emergency department, a man on a mission, walking fast like his life depended on it.
I follow close on his heels, nearly out of breath by the time we get there. We turn to the right, looking for someone who can direct us to where Sierra is, but we don’t even need to get that far, because she’s sitting off to the left in a plastic office chair in the waiting room. Sierra spots Dean immediately, and she rushes up to him, nearly bowling him over with her embrace.
It doesn’t hit me until after Dean and Sierra are reunited that this is the same hospital they brought Andy to. I stand back, watching them hug it out, while my own emotions boil underneath the surface. I push the feeling of uneasiness down; this is for later. It’s about Dean and Sierra now.
“What happened?” Dean asks, as she releases him, a pink cast from her wrist to her elbow on her right arm. “Are you okay? Where’s Johnny?”
“I–I don’t know,” Sierra stammers. “He was fine for one minute. Then he swerves out of control, and we hit the railing. He said there was a raccoon in the middle of the road. His mom picked him up a few hours ago.”
“Fuckers. They couldn’t bring you?”
