Everything Sparkles in Sanfrancisco Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve – Accidents Happen1

I didn’t need to hear anymore of this news reporter. Panic filled my mind as I gripped the steering wheel. Is he okay? Tears fell hot on my face. No please no. I sped down the dark lit streets until I reached California Pacific Medical Center. I didn’t have time for hospital parking so with my N.C license plate I illegally parked at a hospital, and ran inside. Walking up what seemed to be a desk “Where is Archie Little’s room?” The lady clicked the keyboard. “Two Twenty Three.” She replied. I ran watching the numbers fly by. 219, 220, 221, 222, 223. I stopped and ran into the room. Three nurses looked at me. “Is this Archie Little's room?” They nodded in unison. There he was, lying in the hospital bed. Bandage on his head, beautiful eyes wide open. Breathing. “Archie.” I called and smiled, somewhat relived. “He’s unconscious.” I turned to the nurse. “What do you mean…” she looked me straight in the eyes. “He’s in a coma; he’s hooked up to a machine so he can breathe.” No. No. “How?” “He was drunk.” The nurse began. “He got out of his car, and was calling someone. We found his phone near the accident. He was doing the responsible thing, calling someone to get him. Our ambulances got his call, said him and the other driver were in trouble. Well and eighteen wheeler went off the road and hit him.” I walked over to him and kneeled at this bed.2

His eyes were open; I could see the life in his eyes, but at the same time they were lifeless and still. “Archie, please wake up.” I cried un-controllably. Grasping his hand, I looked in his eyes. “Please, I can’t do this without you.” He lay still. “Why…” I choked on my tears. I couldn’t imagine life without him, I didn’t want to. He wouldn’t be there to help me anymore. He wouldn’t be there to take my mind off of my mother. Or have someone to talk to when I needed. Alone. Then, suddenly another nurse walked into the room, holding some papers. “We have consent to pull the plug.” My head turned to look at the nurse. “Who signed those?” I demanded. “I did.” A man stood behind the nurse. “You can’t…” I choked. “I’m sorry.” He said. “No, you’re not, you’re not sorry. I lost my mother now my fiancé? You’re not sorry. No.” The man looked down on me…he had to be only thirty-six, if not younger. His eyes pierced through my soul. Green eyes. Like His. “I lost my wife, and now my son seems to be next.” Now I realized who I was looking at. Archie’s father, he was tall, and had Archie’s dark brown hair. “You can’t do this.” I tried to find the words3

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe in this.” He points to the machine with Archie’s heartbeat on it. “Please, sir. Don’t take him from me. I just lost my mother.” He looked at me, stone cold. “So we’re in the same position it seems.” The nurses moved around the room. “Are you ready?” One nurse said. “Yes.” The other said. “No….” I cried, squeezing his hand. She turned off the machine. Lights flashed, but they stood still. Everything seemed so in-significant in the seconds it took, the moments. “Time of death, 7:32PM June 10th 2009.” 4

I watched the light leave his eyes. 5