"Hey, dad, where are you?" I asked, pulling quickly out of Laylee's driveway. My dad groaned into the phone, "by Kenny's," he said, his voice queezy. "I'll be there in a minute," I told him, flipping the phone shut and turning onto Parkway.
"Dad?" I called out, slamming my truck door shut as I jogged up to Kenny's. My dad got up, slowly, from where he was sitting on the ground. I saw the wound immediately. Blood was coming out of his side, and as I helped him carefully to the car, I felt it soak through my shirt. My hand was covered in it as I turned the key in the ignition, and somehow even my hair had droplets of it as I drove toward the hospital. I imagined what would happen if my dad died right there in my car, next to me, covered in blood. Would people believe that I had been trying to help him? Or would they think that I had killed him?
I pulled into the parking lot and quickly ran to the other side of the truck, pulling my dad out and walking with him as he limped toward the doors. As soon as we were inside, people ran to us, taking him from my arms, bringing him quickly to an a long hallway. The doors were pushed open and he was carried in, yelling everywhere and hurried questions being thrown at me. I watched for a moment and then, when the commotion had finally calmed, a nurse came up to me and said, "Are you related to him? Do you know what happened?" I looked away from my steady gaze on the doors, looking straight at the small nurse in front of me. Her hair was up and covered, and her wide blue eyes seemed rushed, just like everything else. I looked back at the doors, feeling like a character from a movie, as I shook my head and said, "No. I don't know the man." I looked back at her, "I just saw him hurt and brought him here." She nodded slowly, and I turned at pushed the doors to the hospital open, stepping out. The winter breeze bit at my skin, but as a rushing impulse of mixed emotions ran through my veins-I had never felt so hot in my life.
© 2010
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