Answering Machine

“What do you mean Lindsay never picked her up?”

By this point, I was shaking, and very well near completely convulsing. Lindsay always picked Allie up when she said she would. She never forgot about her, and if she was running late she made sure to let someone know or ask someone else to pick her up. Lindsay was responsible, trustworthy, and punctual; there was absolutely no way she had forgotten to pick up our daughter at preschool, which only led me to think…

“Oh my god,” I muttered, still running my hands forcefully through my hair as I paced the floor. “What if something happened to her? What if she’s hurt, or missing, or…”

“John, calm down,” my mother instructed, approaching me and placing her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to stand still. When I couldn’t pace, I wrung my hands and tapped my foot anxiously against the floor beneath me.

“Calm down?” I repeated, my voicing jumping a great few decibels. “Something’s not right, Mom. Something happened to Lindsay; this isn’t like her!”

My stomach felt as if it was folding in on itself with anxiety and nausea. It ached and burned and twisted with worry. As soon as my mom let go of my shoulders, I immediately began pacing again.

“You need to go get Allie, John,” she reminded me sternly. “You can’t leave her at school.”

“I know!” I practically screamed at her. I could feel my face blanching and my knuckles turned a similar shade as I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. In a sudden lurch, I grabbed my keys from the top of the dresser where I had placed them before falling asleep, and began to race down the stairs. My mom was hot on my heels, telling me to call her to let her know what was going on.

The second I made it into my car, I was speeding out of the driveway and down the street, trying desperately not to let my mind wander to the possibilities of what had happened to Lindsay or where she was. I pounded my fists angrily and impatiently on the steering wheel at every red light I encountered, cursing under my breath and wishing there weren’t so many cars on the road.

On a whim, I drove a few minutes out of my way to pass the school where Lindsay taught, thinking that perhaps she had gotten held up at a meeting and had simply forgotten to call me or the preschool. I slowed the car as the parking lot came into view, but let out a disgruntled sigh when I couldn’t spot Lindsay’s car anywhere.

“God dammit,” I muttered, speeding up again as I headed back to the main road. It only took five minutes for me to be delayed once again, as I pulled to a stop behind a long line of cars held at a standstill.

I spat out yet another string of obscenities in the general direction of nowhere and picked up my phone, staring at it as if I might be able to will a message or call from Lindsay. When I was met with no such luck, I sighed and glanced back at the road ahead of me, this time craning my neck a bit more to locate the cause of the traffic jam.

“Probably just road construction,” I thought miserably to myself, until I caught a glimpse of the dark, billowing smoke that was beginning to fill the sky in the distance. Through the haze, I began to make out flashes of blue and red lights.

And then I saw it.

Surrounded by smoke and fire fighters hauling a large hose, and flipped into a sickening position that left it balancing on its crushed roof, was a silver, midsized sedan. Lindsay’s car.
“No!” I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut, praying that the scene would disappear when I opened them. When I did open my eyes, however, the image from before still lay in front of me, this time looking even more disturbing.

I blindly veered my car into the shoulder of the road, speeding towards the accident until I came to the police car that separated traffic from the scene. I jumped from the car, not bothering to turn off the engine or shut my door or grab my phone, and ran until I collided with another brute force.

“Sir,” the gruff voice shook, “sir you can’t be here.”

“Get off me!” I screamed, trying to push myself free from the hands that gripped my shoulders, restraining me. “Let go!”

I tried my best to ignore the stature of the burly police officer in front of me, jumping and stretching my neck, trying to peer over his shoulders and into Lindsay’s car. As soon as I caught a glimpse, I lost control.

“Let me go!” I raged, screaming at the man holding me back, feeling the hot tears flooding my eyes and the bile rising from my stomach. “That’s my wife!”

I watched helplessly as, not fifteen feet away from where I stood, held back, straining against a man twice my size, a team of paramedics began to pull her limp body from the crumpled car. I felt my eyes grow wild and my body began to fall limp as my eyes were drawn to the pool of blood staining her blouse, the same blouse she had been wearing this morning when she had held her hand gently to my chest, telling me she needed to think. I choked on my sobs as I continued to fight, pathetically, against the officer who still had a firm grasp on my shoulders.

“Lindsay!” I cried, my feet shuffling mercilessly against the asphalt below me. The paramedics lifted her onto a stretcher and rushed her to the back of an ambulance, whose open doors waited.

“That’s my wife!” I repeated angrily, beginning to feel the tears streak down my face. Why couldn’t this jackass understand that? Why wouldn’t he let me go? I just needed to be with her. I just wanted to sit next to her, to hold her hand, to feel the blood pump through her veins so I knew she was alive. I just wanted to hold her. I just wanted to rewind this entire day back to this morning, so I could wrap my arms around her and kiss her and tell her not to go, to stay with me.

I suddenly felt the officer’s grip on my shoulder loosen, and I didn’t stop to think if he meant to do it on purpose, but I took my chance and launched myself towards the ambulance, nearly falling on my hands as I jumped the line of caution tape blocking the accident.

As I skidded to a stop at the ambulance, two of the paramedics stood up to me, staring me down as if I were in some sort of trouble. I opened my mouth to spout my reasoning, that she was my wife, but one of them spoke first, taking me by surprise.

“Are you John?”

“Wh – what?” I stuttered, furrowing my eyebrows at him, before shaking my head and nodding. “Yes. Yes, I’m John. How did you – “

“She kept calling out for you,” the other one explained. She had spoken to them? Was she okay? I kept trying to steal glances over and through their shoulders. God dammit, I just wanted to be with her. Why was that so hard for these people to allow?

“Can I see her?” I asked anxiously, my voice wavering and cracking as I still tried to choke back my sobs and screams and cries. One of them looked wary, but the other stepped aside immediately, motioning for me to climb into the ambulance.

She was lying in front of me, wrapped in a blanket and strapped to the stretcher as two more paramedics tended to her. Her face was dirty and bloody beneath an oxygen mask; her hair was wild, tangled, and matted to her head. I couldn’t help but want to break down as I thought of her, only hours ago earlier in the day, lying next to me, her hair brushing against my skin. And then, as I continued to stare desperately at her, I was struck with only one thought.

“Allie!” I yelped, taking the paramedics by surprise. “Oh my god, Allie.”

I dug my hands through my pockets, before remembering that I had left my car running, door open, with my phone resting in the console between the seats.

“I need a phone,” I requested desperately, turning on instinct to the man who had been kind enough to let me inside. He nodded quickly and reached his hand into one of his pockets, before drawing out his phone and handing it to me. I muttered a hurried thank you, before my fingers flew over the keys, dialing the number to my parents’ house.

“Mom?” I asked as soon as she picked up the phone. “Mom, I need you to pick up Allie.”

“John? John, what’s going on?” Her voice was immediately pitched and inflected with worry.

“There was… There was an accident,” I explained, swallowing the lump that had since taken up residence in my throat. “Please, I just need you to pick up Allie.”

I watched as one of the men began to close the ambulance doors and I quickly bid goodbye to my mom after she assured me that she would get Allie.

As soon as I hung up and handed the phone back to its proper owner, I began to notice just how hectic it had become in the small, cramped space. I looked back to Lindsay and reached my hand out to grab hers, before looking up at the man who had just stuck an IV into her arm.

“Is she going to be okay?” I croaked, staring at him desperately. “What happened?” There were thousands of more questions reeling in my mind, but those were the two that seemed most important at the moment.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he sighed, looking at me sympathetically. “She was awake before, asking where you were, apologizing for something over and over again.”

I hiccupped, trying not to cry, as he continued.

“We weren’t able to get her out of the car right away, and she lost consciousness before we pulled her out. There’s not much more we can do before we get to the hospital. I’m sorry.”

I felt myself breaking. What did he mean there wasn’t anything else he could do? Why couldn’t he fix her? Why wasn’t she awake, telling me everything was going to be okay?

“I love you, Lindsay,” I whispered, my voice coming out strangled and raspy as I lifted her hand in mine, brushing my lips over her knuckles. “Please don’t leave me. Please.”