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There were flashing red and blue lights, coming from two cop cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. The fire truck had me scrambling to be sure I didn’t set Dad’s truck on fire. If this thing was smoking, I was so out.
No smoke.
I looked to my left where the door was punched in close to me and the window was shattered but still in place. Through the cracks, I saw the car that hit me.
It was just a Charger, but the person had to have been flying to hit the truck and cause the damage it did. The front end of the car was folded up, having received most of the force. Still, the car managed to push the driver’s door into me.
“What’s your name, kid?”
I turned my head to my right where the voice was coming from. I lifted a shaking hand to my eyes, pushing my palm into my eye socket to try and ease the pain my headache was causing.
“Porter Prescott.”
“Can you unbuckle your seat belt, Porter?” The guy had the passenger door open and was leaning onto the seat.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” I lowered my hand and did so.
“You look good, kid. Anything feel off? Anything hurt?”
“Just my head,” I mumbled, sliding out of the safety belt. My side ached where the door had pushed in, but it was minor compared to my head.
“On a scale of one to ten, what would it be?”
“Ten.”
I played hockey. I was accustomed to pain.
But my head.
Good God, my fucking head killed.
“We’re going to check for a concussion. Have you had a concussion before, Porter?”
I started to nod but thought better of it. “Yeah.”
“Alright. Can you slide over this way?”
With a deep breath, I moved over, scooting over the middle and passenger seats, where the guy took hold of my elbow, helping me out of the truck.
“I’m going to have you sit here for a moment, ok, Porter?” He guided me to a gurney and I frowned. “We’re just checking you out right now.”
“Alright.” I let him help me onto the end and sat as he flashed a light in my eyes and pressed on my arm and leg, both of which were definitely going to bruise.
“You live here, Porter?”
“Yeah.”
“You have parents home?”
“No.”
“Do you know their numbers? Can we give them a call?”
“Yeah, sure. My dad’s out of town though.”
He had another paramedic come over and dialed the number I gave them, telling Mom they were taking me to Beloit Memorial.
***
