I saw a white car creeping along the Prairie Path trail and found that odd; out of place.
Upon turning left on County Farm I discovered that the driver, a youngish blond, had gotten out and was approaching the victim of the crash, who was in a white car turned around and half-up on the sidewalk, looking around for help, maybe on the phone.
I pulled into a bank parking lot and carefully crossed the street.
Long thin red hair skinny woman 45 – 50 y.o maybe is a flight attendant. Conscious and scared. Driver-side door bashed in, but not severely. Enough for me to reach in. Enough for me to reach into the breach of the window to grasp her hand and to tell her that she was going to be OK, that everything was going to be fine, without knowing so.
She said she had had her seat belt on, but had taken it off after impact for comfort.
That she hadn’t even had a ticket in years. Seemed stunned and embarrassed. And I held her hand and repeated what amounted to emergency sweet nothings to her, you’re alright honey, everything is going to be fine honey.
And I thrive in shallow intensity. We don’t know each other, haven’t met, and I was important to her.
I thought of myself in a similar situation, and I would want the same thing. Someone to tell me positive things and put flesh on me so I know I’m still here, in all ways. After the shock of impact to be introduced to someone of the opposite gender who is nice to you.
She spoke of calling her friend to make sure her dogs were walked. I said this had just happened, no one was missing her yet, she had time and should spend it assessing her recovery.
By now the first responders were responding.
We instructed her to take the keys out of the ignition because the car was still running, She did.
She asked me if I lived nearby. I said my kids did. She thanked me softly and we adjusted our grip on each other, with my arm snaked through the mangled metal.
I told her that i would have to step away soon to let them do their work, and she nodded. I said that I honestly believed that she would be fine. That before I was just talking shit, but that now I meant it.
They asked me to step aside. I answered some questions, and they said that was that.
I left without saying goodbye.
I saw police cars snaking in and out of a subdivision, looking for the bolted offender in the silver Taurus with vehicle damage.
At North Avenue, in the Cash For Gold parking lot, I saw a state police had stopped a car of the same description. I was struck at the same time of thoughts of interoperable emergency communications frequencies and the fact that the landscape holds such mysteries.