Chapter
13
A Serialized Story of the
Not So Distant Future
March 25, 2005
Part Five
Sam went to sleep that night anxious over what the world had become.
He fell into a fitful sleep, often waking at the sounds of passing
nurses.
He found himself walking with Gabrielle outside of the movie
theater. "Well that was a waste of two hours," he griped.
"I liked it." Gaby said. "I know it was kind of silly, but I really
enjoyed it."
"Good, then next time we pick something I'll like." Sam said as they
got into his Mustang. "I'm hungry, do you want to go to the diner?"
"Sure." Gaby said, as she scanned the radio stations.
Sam worked his way out of the parking lot and floored it up the
parkway ramp. By the time he merged, he was already overtaking cars
in the center lane.
"Sam, slow down!" Gaby said.
"Aw, I'm just having a little fun, I'm barely over 80." Sam said.
Actually the speedometer was reading 89.5.
Traffic began to thicken, so Sam slowed down and stayed in the
passing lane, patiently waiting for another opening. The passing lane
was barely moving over 70 and Sam resisted the urge to flash the guy
ahead of him.
Gaby found a Madonna song, and cranked up the stereo. The inside of
the car was deafening now. "HOLIDAY" she sang at the top of her
lungs, dancing in her seat.
The lead car went into the center lane and the pack behind it
accelerated to a smooth 80. Sam was itching to really open the
Mustang up, so he weaved around the slower cars, daring anyone to
challenge him.
There was an SUV clogging the passing lane ahead, and an old Chevy
Malibu in the lane next to it. The right lane however was clear, and
Sam didn't even pause as he whipped his car at 95 into the right
hand lane and a pair of oncoming lights.
"What the fuck!" Sam floored the gas pedal and swerved hard to the
left, cutting off the Malibu figuring that the oncoming car would
head towards the shoulder. Instead, it swerved left as well, and the
back of Sam's car was momentarily pinched between the oncoming one,
and the Mallibu.
Gaby screamed as Madonna continued to sing "Celebrate" at eardrum
splitting levels. The oncoming car had been a small Toyota, which had
wedged under the Mustang, causing it to fly up into the air.
Sam found himself standing outside the scene, watching as his
beloved car rolled over three times, until finally skidding to a halt
on its flattened roof. The Toyota had attached itself to the Malibu,
and two more cars piled into them from behind, filling the highway
with more screeches, and broken glass, but nothing even remotely
compared to the damage done to the Mustang.
"This is it." Sam said, "the moment when my life ended."
"Oh no," said a voice from behind him. "This is when it began."
The voice caused Sam to jump awake; his hear was in his throat. He
reached for the water bottle by the side of his bed, not feeling any
pain in his arms at all as he moved.
Who was that he heard? Maybe one of the nurses had been talking in
the hallway, it had pulled him right out of a dream, but what was he
dreaming about? It had slipped away from him while he was looking
around the room.
The next day, Sam took his first steps with a walker. He wanted to
keep going, to just push himself until he was no longer dependent on
anyone for his care, but Jose insisted that he pace himself. Dr Weiss
was convinced that Sam was ready to return home, and Sam found
himself released into the warm Spring air that very afternoon.
"I won't need these wheels for too long you know." Sam said to his
mother as they walked out to the car.
"Hey, you don't have the Camry anymore?"
"That was ten years ago Sam, I've got a Chevrolet Malibu now."
That bothered Sam for some unknown reason, the car itself was nice
enough. They hadn't changed all that much in the last ten years.
"Do they still run on gasoline?" He asked.
"Of course," Mrs. Quinn said.
"Whatever happened to fuel cells?"
"Oh please, that kind of thing never really works. They all sound
great at first, but none of those ideas are really practical."
As they drove out of the parking lot, Sam noticed how little around
him the streets of Brooklyn had actually changed. There was a big
Walmart on 5th Avenue now, Sam couldn't even remember what had been
there before. Most of the stores were different from his memories,
but otherwise things were relatively unchanged.
He actually sighed in relief as they pulled up to the same house he
had grown up in. The siding even looked the same, although possibly
even more in need of a paint job then it had been.
"Do I still have my bedroom?"
"Of course you do dear. I had Robbie pack away your computer a few
years ago, and I unplugged everything to save on electricity, but
otherwise it hasn't been touched. I don't want you going upstairs
though until Robbie gets here, I won't be able to carry you if you
fall."
She wheeled Sam up to the front steps of their two story Dyker
Heights home. There were four cement steps leading up to the door,
so she left Sam at the bottom of the steps while she unlocked and
opened the doors.
Mrs. Quinn didn't have the strength to lift Sam herself, but
fortunately, several neighbors had already come out to help.
"Welcome home Sam!" It was Mr. Fiori, the neighbor from across the
street.
"Oh Sam! It's so good to see you again!" It was Doris Looney, who's
name fit her personality. She must be about 70 now, and actually hurt
Sam when she crushed him against her ample form.
"Er, Thanks Doris, it's good to be back."
Michael Smythe, Sam's newest next door neighbor came out to help as
well. Everyone went in the house for some cake and coffee. Sam
answered most of the usual questions, only Doris asked the most
interesting one.
"Do you remember going into the light, Sam?" Doris asked.
"Oh Doris, Sam wasn't dead." Mrs. Quinn said.
"But Martha, the newspaper said that the paramedics declared him
dead at the scene of the accident." Doris said, "oh I'm sorry Sam I
hope I didn't scare you."
"Uh, no, but this is the first I've heard of this." Sam said. "I'm
afraid I don't have any memories from being in the coma."
"Doris, the paramedics were obviously wrong," Martha Quinn said.
"There's nothing mysterious going on here."
The adhoc Welcome Home party broke up, and Sam managed to
succesfully move himself to a recliner for a nap.
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