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I’ll never forget the big smile on Kenny’s face as we drove away from the house. He was so grateful he had a big brother to look out for him. He looked up to me. I was his hero. I was the one constant that he could rely on.
An hour later Kenny was dead.
And I knew my old man would be out for blood.
We went to Wal-Mart and got Kenny’s school supplies. He was so happy because they had a Star Wars notebook he wanted. I spent almost my entire take-home pay for the week. I didn’t mind. His smile was worth every penny. I would give my last cent now to see his smile just one more time.
It had started to rain as we pulled out onto the highway.
The old Chrysler’s windshield wipers were old.
They barely cleaned the rain off the windshield.
I slowed down because it was hard to see.
It was Saturday evening and the traffic was heavy.
I turned off the highway onto Main, then onto Dilbeck Street.
We were a block away from home.
I stopped at the four-way stop and looked both ways.
I pressed the gas pedal and drove slowly into the intersection.
I never saw the drunk guy in the pickup truck that T-boned us on Kenny’s side.
It happened so fast. That’s what people say after they survive a car crash or an attack of some kind that just came out of the blue. It happened so fast. I didn’t have time to react. I never saw it coming…
I always wondered how that could be. How could something happen so fast that you couldn’t see it coming? How could your world change in the blink of an eye?
I didn’t remember the sound of metal crunching or glass breaking or tires squealing or Kenny making a sound as the pickup slammed into us at fifty miles an hour, throwing me hard against the driver’s door and impacting Kenny’s body with enough force to snap his neck and kill him instantly.
When I came to I was sitting on the back bumper of an ambulance with an oxygen mask over my nose and a blanket around my shoulders. The EMT was telling me how lucky I was. A few scratches and bruises. Nothing broken. Pupils were fine. No concussion. Lucky. He kept calling me lucky. I didn’t feel lucky.
“My brother?” I asked. I looked past him at the carnage in the intersection. The pickup had literally impaled the old Chrysler, crushing the passenger side. The driver of the pickup had crashed through the windshield and was lying under a sheet twenty-yards down the street. The driver’s side door of the old Chrysler was hanging open. The EMT said they’d used the jaws of life to pry open the door and get me out. A wrecker was hooking to the back of the pickup truck to free it from the side of the Chrysler. There were three other EMT’s and six firemen standing back, waiting so they could pry the dead body of my little brother out of the mangled wreck.
“My brother,” I said again.
“They’re gonna get him,” the EMT said, putting a hand on my shoulder, giving it a pat. “We need to get you to the hospital for some x-rays, make sure you have no internal injuries.”
“I can’t leave him,” I said, trying to stand up. My legs failed me. My head went swimmy. I blacked out.
The x-rays showed no internal damage. The left side of my body was scraped and bruised from hitting the door. I had minor cuts from flying glass. Somehow, I had come away with fewer injuries than I’d normally sustain from one of my old man’s beatings.
I was just fine.
I could get dressed and leave.
Your shirt was bloody, the nurse said. Here’s a scrub shirt you can wear home.
Your parents are waiting outside.
My brother...
How is my brother…
Goddammit, tell me about my brother…
