A Tragic Turn of Events

My eyes were raw and dry; there were no more tears to moisten them. My throat was tight; my mind was blank with shock. But, even still I could remember the day Darren and I had met.1

*2

I had been trying to get away from my roomie’s incessant rambling; she was always so studious which made me feel constantly guilty about my lack of focus. I decided to blame it on her habit of talking to herself through her math problems. Stupid math majors.3

The tree near the tennis courts looked quiet, only a bag occupied the courts. I sat down, my back against the tree facing the buildings. Opening up my thick textbook I sighed and began reading.4

“Hello,” a thick voice called from behind the tree.5

“What?” the only time I was down with talking trees was when I was watching Pocahontas. A boy- no, a man scooted next to me from behind the tree, he must have been the owner of the tennis bag since he was in tennis whites.6

“You’re sitting on my tree you know,” he said with confidence.7

“I don’t see your name here,” I stared back down at my book, no matter how gorgeous this guy was I needed to study. School first, flirting later.8

“What’s your name?” the man asked casually, his eyes peered into my cheek, I refused to return the gaze… peripheral vision didn’t count though. From what I could see his eyes were the loveliest shade of blue.9

“Isabella,” focus.10

“Isabella,” he repeated in a cheesy Italian accent. The accent made my name slide off his tongue like melted butter. I wanted to look at him, but I forced my eyes to focus on the page. 11

“Nice hat,” he was relentless. 12

It had been my grandmama’s in the twenties, pale yellow felt and soft pink ribbon. No one else had a hat like this, being unique fashion wise was a hard feat in our small town. When I didn’t answer he tugged on the hat. I shook my head and he dropped his hand, I brought the book up to my face blocking out his face but not his chest. Even with the loose fitting t-shirt I could tell his chest was firm- what was I thinking? Focus, Is!13

“What are you reading?” was he serious?14

“My philosophy textbook,” I was short, “I need to focus.”15

“I could help,” he edged closer, “I took the class last year, Gregory right?” asking what teacher I had.16

“Yeah,” I had looked up from the miniscule text and was captured by his eyes, “Did he spit then too?” 17

“Yeah, apparently even Plato wrote about his displeasure about the professor’s over active saliva glands,” I smiled. He smiled back, leaning closer to me. Damn, he was charming, “Do you like the class?”18

“Not really, my mom suggested it. I don’t know why I took her advice, I won’t use any of this,” I gestured to my book.19

“Of course not, but I know that there is a great party going on right now and yet you, a pretty young woman, are sitting here under a tree studying. You’re learning how to prioritize,” did he really say I was pretty? He must be vain, since obviously those eyes desperately needed glasses.20

“I’m not doing too well,” I made a small smile, any glimpse of a decent grade on the upcoming test slowly falling off the horizon.21

*22

And yet, I had passed the test, much to Darren’s pleasure. He had taken it upon himself to tutor me. We had fallen into a comfortable schedule, my philosophy class got out at 5 and afterwards I would watch the last half hour of his practice. We would then sit under our tree; he had given me partial ownership, and attempt to go over that day’s lesson.23

I never returned the flirting, but it was nice to be on the receiving side. Especially from someone so gorgeous.24

I think it was the third time he asked me out on a date that I said yes.25

*26

We had been together for a year, so figuring in that this was college, that was about three years and since we had both gone through our personal dramas during that one year, his mother dying from cancer and my brother getting married to the Wicked Witch of the West, I figured this one year to equal at least six.27

“You’re not going to wear that are you?” he gestured at my hat.28

“You’re not going to wear that are you?” I mimicked back, tugging on Darren’s wool shirt. He didn’t need to be able see past my façade, I had told him how much I loved the blue sweater on him several times. It hugged him incredibly well.29

“Could we go now, Is?” I looked back up at his eyes. I didn’t realize I was still standing in my dorm doorway staring at my boyfriend’s defined chest. 30

Darren was supposedly taking me out to dinner, how we were getting there, was not something that was obvious to me. His car had broken down the day before, why he referred to his ’78 Oldsmobile as a classic was beyond me. It barely ran, and the inside was smelled like Grandpa’s smoking room, not exactly quality snogging atmosphere.31

I closed the heavy door and placed the key on the overhang, Katie would need it when she got home from her study group, I noted her pink key on her nightstand.32

“Are you borrowing someone’s car?” I asked, in the past week the trees leaves had turned brown and a majority had fallen to the ground. I didn’t really want to walk to where ever we were going.33

He grabbed my hand in his, our college dorms were separated from the rest of the town by a huge field of wild flowers, dead grass and rocks. The field could have been a great place to study on the rare sunny day if the city council hasn’t decided to re-route the railroad through the field just to save the towns only sport bar.34

“You need some more muscle, we’ll walk,” I punched him in the arm, even though his comment was light hearted, besides if what he said was true it wouldn’t hurt his arm one bit. If it did hurt his arm, I knew that his coach would owe me ‘a talkin’ to.’35

“Come on, we’re already running late. We’ll have to cut through the field. Hope you wore your tennis shoes,” Darren joked, he knew I didn’t own anything but tennis shoes.36

“Isn’t there a train coming through?”37

“We’ll be fine, Bella, we’ll just run across,” I had never liked the train tracks. As a child my mother had always told me not to go into the field in fear I would play on the tracks, “How do you feel about Italian food?”38

“ I feel… fine?” Before Darren I had never been a huge believer in the can’t-eat-can’t-sleep-reach-for-the-stars-over-the-fence-world-series kind of love. But, whenever I was around him, I was so… consumed with him, that I could have eaten tree bark and not known the difference until he left and I went to go brush my teeth.39

The evening was cold, just as I had assumed. But, Darren’s arm around my waist was good enough compensation. We were nearing the tracks, the earth rumbling beneath us, of course a train was coming now, “Come on,” we began to walk across but Darren stopped in the middle, “Go on, my shoe lace is stuck give me a sec.”40

My mothers fears were not coming true, “Move, let me get it,” I tried desperately to get the tremor of fear out of my voice; the train was still far off. 41

“Bella, I can get it,” he was frustrated, “Get off the tracks,” we were both kneeled down, he pushed me out of his way, gently but still getting his point across. 42

“It’s not your shoe lace, it’s your jeans. Stop moving and I can get,” we were both yelling, the train was unbelievably close. Fear was appearing in my lovers beautiful eyes. 43

I said a silent, useless prayer.44

“Why won’t they just rip off?” the trains whistle was unbelievably loud, tears had began to stream down my eyes as I tugged at Darren’s jeans, silently cursing the materials expensive quality.45

“Isabella. Bella, I love you, but go,” he roughly pushed me out of the way, but I grabbed him, pulling him with me, not knowing if it would be enough.46

*47

A man in pale green scrubs came out to greet me, I attempted to look at his face but the scrubs were soaked in blood. Darren’s blood. Oh God.48

“Miss Monroe?” I nodded back at him, “He made it through. But he’s sleeping right now. We were able to stabilize him and he had blood transfusion. But, we weren’t able to- do you need to sit down?”49

“What?”50

“Do you need to sit down?” he placed his hand on my shoulder. Was he genuinely concerned or was he just doing his job?51

“Can I please see Darren? What room is he in?”52

“Miss Monroe, you need to know,” he paused, I just wanted to see my dear Darren, “You need to know, we weren’t able to save his leg. Everything will be fine, with help he can adjust to life with a prosthetic. But, for a while, he will just be using a wheel chair. I’m sure you can be there to help him.”53

That’s the one thing I really remember of the incident afterwards, all the blood. I could remember thinking, that the only way there was this much was if-54

Poor Darren. He would never play tennis again, he was undefeated this year. There were scouts at his games. This would break his heart.55

Darren would always be Darren to me. He could be a torso and a head and he would still be Darren. But to Darren, he was nothing without his arms and legs. He had always been an exceptional student, but he had never really fallen in love with anything besides tennis. And me.56

I took a deep, painful breath, “Can I please see him?”57

“Of course, he shouldn’t wake up for awhile though,” I followed him as he led the way. Life would be much different from now on; we would probably be visiting this hospital more often. Frequent hospital visits weren’t too foreign too us due to Darren’s mom’s battle with cancer. He would need help at home as well, perhaps a live in attendant. Or maybe he would feel fine with me living with him, “Once he does wake up though, please alert someone, he doesn’t know- what he has lost yet.”58

*59

It was 33 hours and 46 minutes before Darren woke up. I was there for all but 7 of them. He was so pale and still. He had always been so full of life, now; the only sign that he was alive was the steady beep-beep of the heart monitor and the slow and steady up and down of his chest. Something I absent-mindedly mimicked during the slow hours.60

“Bella, where am I?” his eyes opened on me and my heart fluttered. It had been too long since I had last seen those eyes. Then they had shown fear and now they were showing confusion, two things I never liked to see on Darren.61

I bent down and gently kissed him, his lips, his cheeks. I breathed in his scent. He placed his bandaged hand on my neck, tangling up my hair, caressing my cheek. For the first time I smiled.62

“Your at the hospital,” I said slowly, I knew I was supposed to be going to get a doctor to tell him the dreadful news, but I was too wrapped up by Darren being awake, “What- what do you remember?”63

“I was taking you to La Luna… for dinner… for our anniversary…we were walking through the field… Bella? Why does my leg feel weird?” he got up as if we move aside his blanket but I pushed him down. I was really dreading this, I pressed the call button and asked for them to send a doctor to our room.64

I was biting my lower lip; he grabbed my hand which forced me to look at him, “Is, what clothes are you wearing? I haven’t seen those before,” noting my generic hospital sweats. Could the doctor walk any slower?65

“There-there was a lot of blood, when it happened,” I looked down and played with the sweats drawstrings.66

“It? What happened? Bella?” he was beginning to panic, the beep-beep was quickening. The doctors had stressed how important it was to keep him as calm as possible, “You need to tell me-“67

“A doctor is coming to explain-“68

He sat up and before I could stop he pulled the sheets off of his lower half, his breath stopped. His face lost all of the color it had regained in the past few minutes.69

“They tried to save your leg, but they couldn’t,” why was I being challenged by God? Why wouldn’t this doctor show up? Tears were streaming down my face, but Darren’s face remained as still as stone.70

I tried desperately to not stare at the empty space below is knee.71

“Leaving it- your leg- there would of caused an infection…” I didn’t want to be the one to bring this up, “Either way, you never would have played tennis again, at least as well as you did,” I stated slowly, waiting for the outburst.72

He was breathing deeply now, his eyes calm, but a storm was brewing behind them, “Why are you still here?”73

He dropped my hand and clutched own.74

“Because I love you, Darren,” what was he getting at? Was he honestly thinking that just because he was missing a leg I wouldn’t care about him any more?75

“But, I can never- be normal. I can never be a normal boyfriend for you. I can never take you on walks or buy you dinner. You know the only reason I can afford anything is because of my tennis scholarship, with out that all my paychecks are going to be going towards tuition-“76

He was serious, “Do you think money matters to me? Do you think it matters to me if you are missing a leg?” I tried not to raise my voice.77

“It should, Isabella. It should.”78

“No, Darren, it doesn’t. Maybe to those girls who spend two hours on their hair and more money on clothes then on textbooks. But, you should know, that’s not me. God, Darren, I love you. You the person, not whether or not you have a leg.”79

“You mean everything to me Bella, I love you,” was he finally seeing my point, “Which is why you deserve more,” my head was spinning. The doctor walked in at that moment, I was relieved. The doctor noted the spilt blankets.80

“Mr. Riley, let me explain a few things,” the doctor brought a chair up to the bed and placed several manila files on his lap.81

“Bella, go rest somewhere,” it wasn’t a suggestion, “You need it.”82

He was asking me to leave, when he needed me the most… or was I just assuming that he needed me?83

*84

The drive home from the hospital had been unpleasantly silent. Darren hadn’t spoken a word to me since the doctor had talked to him, I had attempted to initiate conversations dozens, possibly hundreds of times but the most response I ever got was a large sigh.85

Days turned into weeks, I came over to his apartment every other day, placing meals in his fridge. It was nice to know he wasn’t ignoring me entirely since every time I returned the old dishes were empty. I would sort and put away his laundry as he lay in his bed or sat on the couch, never looking me in the eye or saying anything. No salutation or thanks.86

No kiss goodbye.87

Some people talk of developing a comfortable silence between them and the one they love, but this silence was anything but.88

*89

“Bells, you gotta accepts this,” Katie hollered over my head phones. Toni Braxton’s voice crooned into my ears, “He doesn’t want you help,” she reached over and ripped my walkman out of my hand. Unsympathetic bitch.90

I rolled over on my bed and pressed play on my tape player, Toni Braxton continued to convey my feelings with music. Katie just didn’t get it, her boyfriend wasn’t in a ton of pain being all independent.91

I wanted Darren to depend on me. To call me for something so undemanding as turning on a light, but in the back of my head, I knew there was a possibility it would never happen.92

*93

During the third week, it was a Tuesday, I had finished cleaning up the kitchen when I sat next to Darren on the couch. I heard his breath catch in his throat, we were both very aware of our closeness, something we had lacked since the accident.94

I was missing Journalism for this, but some how, in the scheme of things, classes didn’t seem as important as rebuilding my relationship with Darren.95

As I sat there, hands at my side, I wanted nothing more than to be able to read Darren’s mind. I knew that a million questions were running through mine like cars on an interstate highway.96

I sighed, closing my eyes. Would things ever be the same? 97

I felt a warm, calloused hand wrap around mine. My heart thundered in my chest, soft goose bumps ran through my entire body.98

“I’m sorry,” I could tell from the tautness of his voice that it had been awhile since he had last said anything.99

“I missed you, you know,” I turned towards him, his blue eyes looking at me for the first time in weeks. I wanted to cry.100

“I’m sorry. What I did… what I did to you was wrong. To just ignore you, with no explanation-“101

I pressed the tip of my thumb to his lips, I smiled at his kissed it. Smiling was rare event for me lately, “It doesn’t matter, who’s to say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. That night changed a lot of things for you. It was- disrespectful,” I started, not sure of my wording, “of me to assume you would so willingly accept my help. I should have given you time to adjust.”102

“Is, it was never a matter of adjusting. Things are never going to be the same,” could he read my mind? “I’m not going to be able to play a fluid game of tennis again for years, possibly never. I don’t know what I’m going to do now, how I could support you,” he trailed off. Why would he feel the need to support me?103

“You must not of seen the bag with my belongings in it, when we were at the hospital,” again with mind reading. He pushed himself off the couch and into his wheelchair, it was amazing how determined he could be, he was progressing so fast with his physical therapy, he grabbed the plastic bag from where I had set it on the table three weeks ago. He grabbed a small box from inside…104

Oh my God. I tried to keep myself from freaking, for all I knew it could be a pair of earrings. Or just a ring that didn’t mean anything at all.105

“Bella, at dinner that night I was going to ask you to marry me. Not anytime soon, after college. Marriage right now, isn’t in my line of vision, I have other things to worry about. But I just wanted to know,” he grabbed my hand again, “that you would promise to be mine.”106

“You didn’t need to ask me, Darren, I already am yours. That doesn’t depend on the accident,” he seemed relieved, “You’re still Darren to me, you always will be.”107

“I’m glad to hear that,” I pulled my knees under me and he scooted his wheelchair up to the couch. I leaned towards him, waiting, expectant.108

“Are things normal again?”109

“I don’t think they’ll ever be,” he pulled me closer but I stopped again.110

“Will you always be here?”111

“Of course, bella Bella,” he said, his cheesy accent making me smile before his lips met mine.112