Late Summer Thunder, Page 4
J. Jacen De La Garza
slowly cruised down Sunshine Drive. He heard the car stop at the low water crossing. Although Sam kept his eye on Tony he kept his ear on the progress of the car. The wipers slish-sloshed back and forth across the windshield like a timer on the decision being made by those inside the car. Sam expected he would hear the shift of a transmission finding reverse bringing the car into the driveway as the Impala had moments ago. But that driver had a streetlamp to light the water roiling around the mangled metal guardrail and the tree trunk. Now without the obstacles in the water to break it up and the added danger of the darkness caused by the power outage, the water flowed smooth and black across the road.
Deceptively placid, the powerful and unseen hand of God moved over the street that night, unbridled and unchecked.
As he sat there listening he noticed that Tony was also aware and listening intently to the drama playing out in the street. The sound of the wipers and the metallic chattering idle of the little car had drawn them in despite all that had happened that evening. Neither spoke, they chose to sit there in a tempest and just listen.
Samuel was going to pitch the idea of Tony turning himself in when the little car accelerated into the torrent. The car made it a few feet and the result was instant; the small engine was drowned and stalled. They both sprang to their feet and dashed to the fence. In the air a scream, a cry for help barely managed to distance itself from the roar of water, below it and smaller, another voice was heard.
Was it a child’s?
Sam began scaling the fence without thinking. By the time he was negotiating the barbed wire, Tony had already hit the ground running on the other side.
“Get to your house and call for help!” yelled Tony over his shoulder.
The car was sliding sideways as the unstoppable wall of water quickly became a cresting wave against the small yellow hatchback.
There was no time to think. Sam had to cross the creek to get to his house. Between the pool and the middle school the city had built a concrete wash. At its narrowest it was about eight feet across. He would have to jump across. He looked down, it was usually a six foot drop to the floor of the drainage ditch. Tonight it was flowing by maybe six inches from the top, a thought that quelled any fear of heights but terrified him at the thought of coming up short on the jump. Sam looked and saw Tony yelling to the driver, a woman in her late fifties with pink curlers in her hair. He could pick out some of what she was frantically trying to explain. Her granddaughter was in the passenger seat and neither of them could swim. Tony was trying to calm her down even as the car edged closer to the point of no return. Lightning flashed and he could see Tony glaring at him.
“GET MOVING!” yelled Tony.
Sam took a step back, uttered a prayer, and pushed with all he had across the chasm. Beneath him in an odd and somehow slow motion, thousands of gallons of blackness passed silently. As the sky again lit up he could see his reflection, frozen in that instant, free from gravity. He landed half on and half off the other side. Immediately the water grabbed him trying violently to pull him in, the unseen hand searched for a better grip but lost him. He freed himself, stood up and looked back. Tony had waded into the water and was trying to get the woman to hand him the little girl.
Late summer thunder rolled overhead in the darkness.
He rounded the corner at Quill Street trying to decide if it would be quicker to just run to the fire station. Engine number twenty seven was only a few blocks up Hillcrest. As he crossed Quill his heart skipped a few beats. Down the long narrow street he saw the unmistakable red and blue flashing lights of a police car. It was parked behind a wrecked and immediately recognizable Z-71 Chevy step-side, Tony’s truck. The very truck he was in when Tony proudly showed him the gun only hours before this whole nightmare became a reality.
The blue and white cruiser turned an alley light on the soaked and possibly deranged teenager coming at it full speed. The words poured from him in a frenetic and fragmented jumble, a car in the water, a gun and self defense. He spat phrases concerning people trapped in a yellow hatchback and his friend trying to help and the fact it wasn’t his fault. The cop jammed the car into gear and tore up the street and slid to a stop at the water crossing. As the lights played over the water Sam’s hopes came crashing down.
The car, the woman and Tony…were gone.
Only that cold black ribbon devouring the road between them and the pool remained. Sam jumped out of the car and began yelling into the darkness, his voice lost in the collision of water and concrete. The cop came running up behind him and focused the beam of his flashlight downstream. Both of them missed her at first and it was the screams of the little girl that guided the light to her face. In spite of the rain and the noise her tiny, haunting little screams rose above.
The car did slide into the ditch but happened to snag on the tree trunk that had washed down earlier, yet the angle was all wrong. She appeared to be standing there in the water but that was impossible. The water was deep enough to cover the car to the roof, yet there she stood.
“I’ll be damned.” said the cop.
Sam was startled and jumped just a bit at the words. He had almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. The cop swept the area around her with his light. Two arms held tightly around her. Sam immediately knew it was Tony.
His body wedged between the car and the tree, he was just tall enough to keep her head above the water. Sam would later learn that as they waited for help to arrive they were all swept away when the car broke loose and came around on them, knocking them all in.
Tony never let go.
He was determined that she was going to make it. He would do everything he could with his own life that he was about to end only moments before and give this poor little girl another chance.
Sam fell to his knees and began sobbing, Engine 27 came down the road in a fury of lights and sirens to pluck the girl from Death’s hands, and from dead hands…Tony’s hands.
All of the death and the anger and violence born of that day climaxed in a rare scene of redemption and sacrifice where none seemed possible. The firefighters pulled the girl from the water, Tony was finally able to let go. He sank beneath the water and out of Sam’s life forever.
Now
Sam climbed down from the roof and made the short walk to the pool and the Lee’s Creek water crossing, though now there is a bridge over the creek and in the time since then the school purchased the pool and filled it in to make a parking lot. It struck him as a bit funny that a middle school would need so much parking.
He stared down at the concrete walls and floor of the ditch and felt the emotion fill him again. It had taken years to block it out and yet he felt the strangest sense of release and relief as he recalled it. For all the bad that happened to Tony in his short time on Earth, if not for all that pain and if not for all that confusion, a little girl would have drowned alone and in the dark that stormy August night. At the time, Sam cursed God for taking his friend from him, and now he was actually thankful to have been allowed to see such a beautiful thing.
Redemption.
Choices and decisions govern the outcome of life, we choose and we decide. Tony chose to take his own life, but decided to give it instead.
Thunder rolled heavily from over the horizon. On the breeze the sound of the first few raindrops of a deluge made their way. A storm was rolling in, it was one of his favorite forces of nature, although this time he found it easy to ignore. It was almost identical to another afternoon, more than twenty years before.
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Deceptively placid, the powerful and unseen hand of God moved over the street that night, unbridled and unchecked.
As he sat there listening he noticed that Tony was also aware and listening intently to the drama playing out in the street. The sound of the wipers and the metallic chattering idle of the little car had drawn them in despite all that had happened that evening. Neither spoke, they chose to sit there in a tempest and just listen.
Samuel was going to pitch the idea of Tony turning himself in when the little car accelerated into the torrent. The car made it a few feet and the result was instant; the small engine was drowned and stalled. They both sprang to their feet and dashed to the fence. In the air a scream, a cry for help barely managed to distance itself from the roar of water, below it and smaller, another voice was heard.
Was it a child’s?
Sam began scaling the fence without thinking. By the time he was negotiating the barbed wire, Tony had already hit the ground running on the other side.
“Get to your house and call for help!” yelled Tony over his shoulder.
The car was sliding sideways as the unstoppable wall of water quickly became a cresting wave against the small yellow hatchback.
There was no time to think. Sam had to cross the creek to get to his house. Between the pool and the middle school the city had built a concrete wash. At its narrowest it was about eight feet across. He would have to jump across. He looked down, it was usually a six foot drop to the floor of the drainage ditch. Tonight it was flowing by maybe six inches from the top, a thought that quelled any fear of heights but terrified him at the thought of coming up short on the jump. Sam looked and saw Tony yelling to the driver, a woman in her late fifties with pink curlers in her hair. He could pick out some of what she was frantically trying to explain. Her granddaughter was in the passenger seat and neither of them could swim. Tony was trying to calm her down even as the car edged closer to the point of no return. Lightning flashed and he could see Tony glaring at him.
“GET MOVING!” yelled Tony.
Sam took a step back, uttered a prayer, and pushed with all he had across the chasm. Beneath him in an odd and somehow slow motion, thousands of gallons of blackness passed silently. As the sky again lit up he could see his reflection, frozen in that instant, free from gravity. He landed half on and half off the other side. Immediately the water grabbed him trying violently to pull him in, the unseen hand searched for a better grip but lost him. He freed himself, stood up and looked back. Tony had waded into the water and was trying to get the woman to hand him the little girl.
Late summer thunder rolled overhead in the darkness.
He rounded the corner at Quill Street trying to decide if it would be quicker to just run to the fire station. Engine number twenty seven was only a few blocks up Hillcrest. As he crossed Quill his heart skipped a few beats. Down the long narrow street he saw the unmistakable red and blue flashing lights of a police car. It was parked behind a wrecked and immediately recognizable Z-71 Chevy step-side, Tony’s truck. The very truck he was in when Tony proudly showed him the gun only hours before this whole nightmare became a reality.
The blue and white cruiser turned an alley light on the soaked and possibly deranged teenager coming at it full speed. The words poured from him in a frenetic and fragmented jumble, a car in the water, a gun and self defense. He spat phrases concerning people trapped in a yellow hatchback and his friend trying to help and the fact it wasn’t his fault. The cop jammed the car into gear and tore up the street and slid to a stop at the water crossing. As the lights played over the water Sam’s hopes came crashing down.
The car, the woman and Tony…were gone.
Only that cold black ribbon devouring the road between them and the pool remained. Sam jumped out of the car and began yelling into the darkness, his voice lost in the collision of water and concrete. The cop came running up behind him and focused the beam of his flashlight downstream. Both of them missed her at first and it was the screams of the little girl that guided the light to her face. In spite of the rain and the noise her tiny, haunting little screams rose above.
The car did slide into the ditch but happened to snag on the tree trunk that had washed down earlier, yet the angle was all wrong. She appeared to be standing there in the water but that was impossible. The water was deep enough to cover the car to the roof, yet there she stood.
“I’ll be damned.” said the cop.
Sam was startled and jumped just a bit at the words. He had almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. The cop swept the area around her with his light. Two arms held tightly around her. Sam immediately knew it was Tony.
His body wedged between the car and the tree, he was just tall enough to keep her head above the water. Sam would later learn that as they waited for help to arrive they were all swept away when the car broke loose and came around on them, knocking them all in.
Tony never let go.
He was determined that she was going to make it. He would do everything he could with his own life that he was about to end only moments before and give this poor little girl another chance.
Sam fell to his knees and began sobbing, Engine 27 came down the road in a fury of lights and sirens to pluck the girl from Death’s hands, and from dead hands…Tony’s hands.
All of the death and the anger and violence born of that day climaxed in a rare scene of redemption and sacrifice where none seemed possible. The firefighters pulled the girl from the water, Tony was finally able to let go. He sank beneath the water and out of Sam’s life forever.
Now
Sam climbed down from the roof and made the short walk to the pool and the Lee’s Creek water crossing, though now there is a bridge over the creek and in the time since then the school purchased the pool and filled it in to make a parking lot. It struck him as a bit funny that a middle school would need so much parking.
He stared down at the concrete walls and floor of the ditch and felt the emotion fill him again. It had taken years to block it out and yet he felt the strangest sense of release and relief as he recalled it. For all the bad that happened to Tony in his short time on Earth, if not for all that pain and if not for all that confusion, a little girl would have drowned alone and in the dark that stormy August night. At the time, Sam cursed God for taking his friend from him, and now he was actually thankful to have been allowed to see such a beautiful thing.
Redemption.
Choices and decisions govern the outcome of life, we choose and we decide. Tony chose to take his own life, but decided to give it instead.
Thunder rolled heavily from over the horizon. On the breeze the sound of the first few raindrops of a deluge made their way. A storm was rolling in, it was one of his favorite forces of nature, although this time he found it easy to ignore. It was almost identical to another afternoon, more than twenty years before.
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