If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.
We weren't supposed to be there. We had plans to play handball with Steve's friend, Angelo. He was supposed to call us back as to when he wanted to meet up. He never did so Charlie asked us to go surfing.
"Can we take your car because I'm running low on gas?"
Steve grabs his keys and goes to ask me to drive his car but he decides against it. I guess he feels I did enough driving yesterday to Connecticut. We get in his Pontiac and head towards his parents house to pick up our boards. As we're going down Fallwood Parkway I lean over to Steve and catch a glimpse of his gas meter. I can't even see the red gauge because that's how full his tank is. "Babe, you have a full tank of gas! You've been holding out on me!" I laugh and sit back. He laughs too until the words "Oh shit" come out. I give a small eek, lift my right knee up, cover my face with my forearms, close my eyes, and wait for the impact.
This all happens in the span of a split second. I hear the crunch, I get tossed forward and back, and then open my eyes. The white SUV is gone and Steve is calmly bringing his vehicle to the side of the road. "You okay?" we pretty much say at the same time. I've banged my knee on the glove compartment because of my dumb reaction to knowing I'm going to be in a car accident. It was the same reaction I had to falling down a double black diamond in the Eldorado woods three years ago: Get in a ball. Steve's calves are cramped because he slammed on his brakes so hard. My back is now starting to tingle. Other than that, we're fine. So what the hell happened to the white SUV that just decided to make a left turn into us?
I open the car door and stare wide-eyed at a Nissan SUV completely on its side. There is no way Steve's little sedan pushed an SUV over! That in itself is pretty astonishing and cool. But I hustle over to where a man is calling to the driver of the other vehicle. I ask if they're okay and he says yes and goes to call 911 and look at the cross streets. I peer in through her sun roof and notice her arms are shaking. I tell her I'm shaking too and that she's alright and to turn off her ignition. She does what I say and she hands me her purse as four men go to help her out. She sits on the ground completely dazed. After checking that the woman is safe Steve returns to his car to be angry in peace. I don't blame him for being mad. He had three more months on this car and then it would be completely his. We both had been looking forward to this because that would be three hundred extra dollars a month.
I take on the role of the speaker as Steve collects himself and tries to get ahold of his family. He's had no luck and tells the family answering machine, "Please, if there is anyone in there with a pulse pick up the phone!" He reaches his mother at work who sends his father straight to us. Steve owns his mother's old car, the one that had been "totaled" before, then was fixed, then broke down recently, then had to pour $3000 in it to get it new again only for this broad to bring him back to square one. She never asks us if we're okay but we let it go because she's completely shaken. Her air bag must have hit her in the head. Ours never deployed because we weren't going that fast to begin with. When her husband arrives on the scene he glares nastily at us and he too never comes over to us on behalf of his wife. No how are you? No sorry that my wife wasn't paying attention. No sorry for ruining your car. No anything.
No cops are talking to us either. They just keep coming in droves, calling out to each other like they haven't seen the other for years. Steve begins to panic. He's concerned since there's damage to his front and her passenger side that they think it's his fault. Here we are two young kids in boardshorts and flip flops on the way to the beach. We HAD to be speeding. They're crowding around the older woman like she's dying. I whip out the cell and call Kim.
"I'm on the phone with mom. I'll call you back."
"No," I say firmly. "This is important." I explain the situation and she quickly tells me that he's not in the wrong and that both of us are to go to doctors and document everything. Charlie tells me the same thing when I call him with the news right after he excitedly tells me, "I'm just putting my board in the car now!"
Finally an officer walks over and asks if we're okay. I say I banged my knee and that Steve's calves hurt but he ignores me. He then tells me he'll call an auto body shop for us and presents a list. He then changes his mind and asks me to make the call and while I'm at it order a tow for the woman too. I suppress the urge to yell and dial anyway. At this point Steve's dad arrives and puts his arms out for both of us to come in for a hug.
When an officer returns to our side again I quickly state, "my sister's a lawyer" because I think we need more attention. No one has really asked us for our side of the story but I'm sure they clearly know whose fault it is. I just want to make sure. Already my brain has fast forwarded a year from now: Steve and I are living in another state, finishing school, furnishing a new place, when we get subpoenaed. I'm petrified she's going to head to Binder & Binder and our carefully constructed life together will come tumbling down. The cop assures me there will be a report. I know that but I want my input. The EMT never comes over, assuming we’re fine. When I report that my knee and back hurt he then says, “You weren’t hurt before. Now you are?” in this tone of accusation. I’m not going to sue her. I want to cover my bases so she doesn’t try to sue us. The cop then looks at me and asks me if I was in some kind of situation where the police came to my house. I then remember how on the coldest winter day I had to call the cops to come look at the damage neighborhood white trash kids did to my brand new SUV. "Oh yeah," I say. "You did come. That's when they egged our cars and keyed mine for no reason. Yeah, I don't think I like living here in Farmingdale. This town hates us."
I look back over at the woman's husband who blatantly ignores us. I think how lucky this woman is that I wasn't behind that wheel. The light had been green, I would have sped up, and that crash would have been ten times worse. If I had been in my truck she would have flipped twice. She's lucky Steve was driving. He tends to drive slow or in his words, accordingly. She's not the only one who's lucky he was driving, we were too.
As I'm writing this entry I ask for Steve's details. He kept his eyes open and witnessed the entire crash. Apparently the back of her SUV came up onto the hood, teetered on two wheels, then fell on the side. I then ask him if he can recall the last conversation we had before impact. I think it was about the gas and he says it was. His face then changes and he looks pissed.
"Dammit! I not only lost the car, I lost out on that tank of gas! That was fifty bucks!"
"Can we take your car because I'm running low on gas?"
Steve grabs his keys and goes to ask me to drive his car but he decides against it. I guess he feels I did enough driving yesterday to Connecticut. We get in his Pontiac and head towards his parents house to pick up our boards. As we're going down Fallwood Parkway I lean over to Steve and catch a glimpse of his gas meter. I can't even see the red gauge because that's how full his tank is. "Babe, you have a full tank of gas! You've been holding out on me!" I laugh and sit back. He laughs too until the words "Oh shit" come out. I give a small eek, lift my right knee up, cover my face with my forearms, close my eyes, and wait for the impact.
This all happens in the span of a split second. I hear the crunch, I get tossed forward and back, and then open my eyes. The white SUV is gone and Steve is calmly bringing his vehicle to the side of the road. "You okay?" we pretty much say at the same time. I've banged my knee on the glove compartment because of my dumb reaction to knowing I'm going to be in a car accident. It was the same reaction I had to falling down a double black diamond in the Eldorado woods three years ago: Get in a ball. Steve's calves are cramped because he slammed on his brakes so hard. My back is now starting to tingle. Other than that, we're fine. So what the hell happened to the white SUV that just decided to make a left turn into us?
I open the car door and stare wide-eyed at a Nissan SUV completely on its side. There is no way Steve's little sedan pushed an SUV over! That in itself is pretty astonishing and cool. But I hustle over to where a man is calling to the driver of the other vehicle. I ask if they're okay and he says yes and goes to call 911 and look at the cross streets. I peer in through her sun roof and notice her arms are shaking. I tell her I'm shaking too and that she's alright and to turn off her ignition. She does what I say and she hands me her purse as four men go to help her out. She sits on the ground completely dazed. After checking that the woman is safe Steve returns to his car to be angry in peace. I don't blame him for being mad. He had three more months on this car and then it would be completely his. We both had been looking forward to this because that would be three hundred extra dollars a month.
I take on the role of the speaker as Steve collects himself and tries to get ahold of his family. He's had no luck and tells the family answering machine, "Please, if there is anyone in there with a pulse pick up the phone!" He reaches his mother at work who sends his father straight to us. Steve owns his mother's old car, the one that had been "totaled" before, then was fixed, then broke down recently, then had to pour $3000 in it to get it new again only for this broad to bring him back to square one. She never asks us if we're okay but we let it go because she's completely shaken. Her air bag must have hit her in the head. Ours never deployed because we weren't going that fast to begin with. When her husband arrives on the scene he glares nastily at us and he too never comes over to us on behalf of his wife. No how are you? No sorry that my wife wasn't paying attention. No sorry for ruining your car. No anything.
No cops are talking to us either. They just keep coming in droves, calling out to each other like they haven't seen the other for years. Steve begins to panic. He's concerned since there's damage to his front and her passenger side that they think it's his fault. Here we are two young kids in boardshorts and flip flops on the way to the beach. We HAD to be speeding. They're crowding around the older woman like she's dying. I whip out the cell and call Kim.
"I'm on the phone with mom. I'll call you back."
"No," I say firmly. "This is important." I explain the situation and she quickly tells me that he's not in the wrong and that both of us are to go to doctors and document everything. Charlie tells me the same thing when I call him with the news right after he excitedly tells me, "I'm just putting my board in the car now!"
Finally an officer walks over and asks if we're okay. I say I banged my knee and that Steve's calves hurt but he ignores me. He then tells me he'll call an auto body shop for us and presents a list. He then changes his mind and asks me to make the call and while I'm at it order a tow for the woman too. I suppress the urge to yell and dial anyway. At this point Steve's dad arrives and puts his arms out for both of us to come in for a hug.
When an officer returns to our side again I quickly state, "my sister's a lawyer" because I think we need more attention. No one has really asked us for our side of the story but I'm sure they clearly know whose fault it is. I just want to make sure. Already my brain has fast forwarded a year from now: Steve and I are living in another state, finishing school, furnishing a new place, when we get subpoenaed. I'm petrified she's going to head to Binder & Binder and our carefully constructed life together will come tumbling down. The cop assures me there will be a report. I know that but I want my input. The EMT never comes over, assuming we’re fine. When I report that my knee and back hurt he then says, “You weren’t hurt before. Now you are?” in this tone of accusation. I’m not going to sue her. I want to cover my bases so she doesn’t try to sue us. The cop then looks at me and asks me if I was in some kind of situation where the police came to my house. I then remember how on the coldest winter day I had to call the cops to come look at the damage neighborhood white trash kids did to my brand new SUV. "Oh yeah," I say. "You did come. That's when they egged our cars and keyed mine for no reason. Yeah, I don't think I like living here in Farmingdale. This town hates us."
I look back over at the woman's husband who blatantly ignores us. I think how lucky this woman is that I wasn't behind that wheel. The light had been green, I would have sped up, and that crash would have been ten times worse. If I had been in my truck she would have flipped twice. She's lucky Steve was driving. He tends to drive slow or in his words, accordingly. She's not the only one who's lucky he was driving, we were too.
As I'm writing this entry I ask for Steve's details. He kept his eyes open and witnessed the entire crash. Apparently the back of her SUV came up onto the hood, teetered on two wheels, then fell on the side. I then ask him if he can recall the last conversation we had before impact. I think it was about the gas and he says it was. His face then changes and he looks pissed.
"Dammit! I not only lost the car, I lost out on that tank of gas! That was fifty bucks!"