Now or death!

(Short story/cuento)

There he was, chilling, when a man came rushing ’round the corner and said panting, “You gotta come. It’s a matter of now or death!” He didn’t give it a thought; he never did when someone else needed help. Focused so intently on the man’s words, everything around him went instantly into slow motion. They both rushed back around the corner. There was a car flipped upside down. It was beginning flare. The increasing flames warned the few bystanders “Keep your distance”. Someone among them had managed to call 911.

“There’s a baby in the back seat,” the man said to him. He was almost certain about what this was all about and said, starting an internal monologue that flavored of denial, “This is just great! One minute I’m cool and the next I’m ‘bout to burn. Oh God! You know I’m not cut out for this kind of thing. In fact, you know I’m actually pretty chicken shit.” Little did he know that many of the bystanders were actually thinking along those lines.

The baby’s cries were getting louder. The car’s tires were on fire now sending darkness into the night sky. A nanosecond went by and within his mind, “How can so much light create so much darkness?” There was no one to be found in the front seats. The windows were rolled down and the seatbelts unfastened. What in the world could have happened?

He thought of a fire extinguisher and turned to the man who had brought him there, but, all of a sudden, he was nowhere to be found. He suddenly realized that the man could have had something to do with the accident, but how could he be certain? The light brought him back. “Anybody has a fire extinguisher?” he asked out loud. No one answered; the car had become a huge nightlight, but the fire had not gotten into the interior of the car yet. Everybody assumed the car was a bomb waiting to explode any second now. They were right and that’s why everybody stayed at bay. The baby’s cries were still being heard quite clearly. The sirens of the Emergency Response Team brought a gleam of hope to all as they were heard in the distance.

As the car burned faster, the baby’s cries elongated in desperation, or was it asphyxia? He hesitated, “Will they get here on time?” He rushed to the car only to jump back. The heat wave coming from the car had hit him hard. He approached the car in a crouching position, got inside it through the front passenger window and started unfastening the baby in what was a very horrendous, and never anticipated, first encounter with a car seat. The speed of his thoughts had rendered the convention of time meaningless. He fought against despair, both his and the baby’s. He fought against fear. Right there, in an upside down car, he fought the hounds of hell and one of them managed to bite him.

When his right arm caught fire, everything transpiring inside his head came to a halt. However, time has gone on, as usual, ignoring the precariousness of the human state.

The pain was to blame when he woke up. He had his right arm wrapped from his fingers all the way up to his shoulder. His head felt like someone was pulling his hair in a constant yanking motion. It was wrapped as well; all third degree burns. After coming to grips with reality, he knew were he was.

As if performing a miracle, he managed to call the nurse and, when she came in, begged her to put him out of his misery. She went out and before a minute had gone by came back with some heavy drug inside a syringe. He didn’t feel the sting of the needle piercing his flesh, but felt the pressure of the drug in the area of the shot. As it spread through his body, images strolled through his mind. The man, the corner, the car, the light, the sirens, the baby… the hounds of hell.

Muttered words came out of his mouth, “The baby?” “The baby’s fine,” said the nurse. “Who else?” was all he could add. The nurse knew better than to keep answering questions, so she let her silence do the talking for a bit. “Let’s get some rest now, honey. It’ll do you good,” she concluded softly. At this, he understood that whoever else was in that car couldn't have possibly made it save by a miracle.

The strolling images were fading past the line between awareness and dream and it seemed that everything was thrown suddenly into a perennial slow motion.

As usual, time went on... The car never exploded... And he dreamed...
cspellot2004