The
Wrong Place At The Wrong Time
The
bell rang and the pupils of Wetherton High School surged out of the double
doors at the front of the old stone building. Lucy let out a great sigh of
relief.
“God,
I thought old Woods would never shut up!” Emma, her friend, smiled at Lucy’s
outburst. Lucy went on, “I couldn’t believe it when he tried to give me
detention! Who does he think he is?!”
“He
thinks he’s the teacher, Luce” Emma said, grinning broadly.
“Yeah,
well,” Lucy said, “He had absolutely no right to do that! He was totally out of
order!”
Emma
shrugged. “Whatever.” she said.
The glass disintegrated and a clothed arm shot through. A
gloved hand wrenched the lock out of its socket. The doors clicked and swung
open. The suspension groaned as it was forcibly burdened by four foreign
bodies. The steering lock was ripped away. Wires flashed and the engine roared.
The gear-stick was slammed into fifth and the accelerator was ground into the
floor. The tyres screeched as they gyrated against the tarmac before getting a
grip on the road and speeding off into the distance.
“I
mean, how can one man set so much homework!” Lucy continued, as the two of them
walked down Charleston Road towards the High Street. “It’s so unfair! Doesn’t he think we have social lives?”
Emma
sniggered.
“Oh,
it’s all right for you!” Lucy said, turning on her, “Fido! You’re a proper
little teacher’s pet, aren’t you?”
“What
do you mean?” Emma asked.
“I
have to do six whole pages of notes,” Lucy said, “And what do you get? Three
measly questions!”
Emma
giggled again. “It’s not my fault. I wasn’t the one that was drawing cartoons
in my exercise book or doing imitations behind his back. Darth Grader! Honestly.”
“He
is!” Lucy said, indignantly, “He’s Darth Vader’s cousin. I’m telling you.
Straight
out of Star Wars!”
“In
a tweed jacket?”
“It’s
obviously a disguise. He can’t walk around in a long black cloak and mask or
he’d be locked up in the loony bin. So he has to disguise himself as an average
human being.”
“Yeah,
sure,” Emma said, nonchalantly.
The
car swerved from one side of the road to the other, rebounding off the pavement
or the kerb. It thundered down a back lane, jarring on each loose stone. It
ploughed through a row of dustbins, mimicking the intoxication of its drivers. The
lids clattered and rolled about in its wake. Lights of houses flashed on and
windows shot up, just in time to see the dust settle on the beaten track and
hear the growling and rumbling fade away as the car continued its destructive
journey, never decreasing in speed.
Lucy
and Emma reached the end of Charleston Road and began to walk down the High
Street towards the zebra crossing. They had finished their argument about Mr.
Woods’ private life and were discussing their favourite celebrities.
“Christian
Slater!” Lucy said, “Why on earth do you like him?”
Emma
blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know.” she said, “Who do you like then?”
“Ben
Affleck.” Lucy said, decisively.
Emma
looked surprised. “I thought you’d say Leonardo DiCaprio.” she said.
“Him
too,” Lucy added quickly.
“I
like Jack Ryder.”
“And
him!” Lucy gabbled.
“Tom
Cruise.”
“And
him.”
“Chris
O’Donnell.”
“And
him.”
“Michael
Caine.”
“And
hi…hey!”
Emma
grinned.
“You
fancy Michael Caine?”
“No!”
Emma said, “I just think he’s a good actor.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t
you?”
Lucy
thought about this for a moment. “Don’t know,” she shrugged. “Haven’t really
seen him in anything.”
Emma
looked horrified at the thought of this. “You mean… you’ve never seen ‘The Italian Job’?’
“The
what?”
“Or
‘Jekyll and Hyde’?”
“Is
he in that?”
“Or...or…`The
Muppet’s Christmas Carol?”
“Oh,
I’ve seen that.” Lucy said, “What part does he play in that?”
“The
main part!”
There
was a pause.
“Oh.” Lucy said and she pushed the `wait’ button at
the zebra crossing.
The joyriders reached the end of the back road and tore
down a side street, getting closer and closer to the centre of town. The car
weaved carelessly in and out of the lines of traffic - careering round to the
left of a crossroads - Only the quick thinking of the other drivers prevented
an accident. The drunkards had unintentionally turned into a dead end. A
precarious U-turn was performed and they hurtled back down the cul-de-sac, did
another perilous left turn and hurtled off down the High Street.
Lucy and Emma were still standing at the zebra
crossing. Emma had decided to end the discussion about Michael Caine’s
illustrious career and they now stood in silence. Then Lucy said “You know
what? I can prove the existence of Martians.”
Emma turned to stare at her. “You can’t.” she said.
Lucy smiled smugly.
“Can you?”
“Just you wait.” Lucy said mysteriously.
The traffic lights changed from green and Lucy
pointed up to where the red `Don’t Walk’ man had been replaced by a green one.
“There you go,” Lucy said, a cheeky grin on her
face, “Little green men.” She laughed and stepped out into the road.
The youths raced down the wide road dodging
thoughtlessly in and out of any gaps they found - changing lanes from the left
to the right and sometimes the middle. Advancing down the street, well over the
speed limit - with the driver’s foot still jammed on the accelerator pedal. A
black and white line appeared on the tarmac at the same time as a young girl
materialised in front of them. The car couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop and the
bonnet slammed into the girl’s chest, scooping her up into the air. Her body
bounced across the windscreen before falling in a shapeless heap in the middle
of the road. Still not relenting, the
car vanished off down the road, leaving utter chaos behind it.
Emma had seen the car a split second before it
crashed into Lucy. She had screamed out loud as her friend’s body had been bent
in half before being lifted up and over the car front. She had stood watching
helplessly as Lucy was thrown onto the cold, rough ground. The massive bang of the collision had
thundered in Emma’s head like a volcano erupting and the hollow thuds as she
bounced across the bonnet had become a thunderstorm. Now she stared down at the
pile of flesh that was her best friend. Lucy had landed awkwardly and now lay motionless
on her front. Her head was turned to the left and her face was streaked with
blood. Her left hand was up by her face but her right arm was twisted grotesquely
behind her. Someone moved forwards to the crumpled figure and bent over her,
checking for a pulse. They called out to the gathering crowd for someone to phone
for an ambulance. A mobile phone was whipped out and 999 was hurriedly dialled.
Emma was only half-aware of these events. She was staring down at the girl, who
lay still and stiff, in the middle of the High Street. In the distance, she
heard the wail of a siren, getting closer and closer.
Emma heard the commotion in the back of her mind but
paid it no attention. The ambulance pulled up and the paramedics got out. Emma didn’t
take her eyes off her Lucy. No matter how much it pained her to see the state
her friend was in. She watched as Lucy was elevated onto a stretcher which, in
turn, was lifted up into the ambulance. Emma was then helped up beside her and
sat on the bench staring blankly at Lucy as the paramedics busied themselves around
her. Emma yearned to reach out and grasp Lucy’s hand in her own. She wanted to
comfort Lucy, tell her not to worry. She wanted to laugh and joke with her, to
get some response from the statue-like figure in front of her. But it was as if
Emma’s own muscles had seized up. She couldn’t move. All she could do was sit
and look.
The ambulance pulled up in front of Wetherton
General Hospital and the doors were
flung open. Lucy was wheeled out and up the ramp at the front of the A&E
Department. Emma followed, slowly and serenely. Lucy was sent straight into
‘Resus’ and Emma was directed to the relatives’ room. She sat stiffly in one of
the armchairs, her hands in her lap, her eyes staring right ahead of her, looking
at nothing in particular. She sat listening to the steady ticking of the clock
on the wall. Although she wasn’t saying anything, millions of thoughts were
flashing through her mind. She kept playing the accident over and over again.
“What if?” she found herself thinking, “What if we’d
waited? What if we’d come out of school just a few minutes later? What if I’d
seen the car sooner? What if I’d warned Lucy earlier? Is it my fault the car
crashed into her? Is it my fault she’s like that?”
In the room down the corridor, Lucy lay on a
resuscitation trolley with wires leading across and into her body. Doctors and
nurses worked frantically around her, desperately screaming instructions to
each other, feeding more and more drugs into her bloodstream. Lucy lay
oblivious to all that was happening around her. Deaf, dumb and blind to the
world. Beside her the regular beep of the monitor measuring her heartbeat
gradually slowed, before culminating in a single, monotonous tone…
