The Collision

The truth is I have always rushed into things without thinking. My mother's voice echoes in my mind even now. "Elizabeth! Stop and think!" I very rarely ever did. Even now as an adult, I have yet to master the art. As a result, I visited the emergency room quite frequently. I think they may have had a wing with my name on it as the person who funded it.

My brother and I were riding our bikes down to a neighbors house. They lived a few blocks away and had the most awesome dog - a golden retriever. That was my dream dog. The neighbors were not home at the time but they did not mind us visiting the dog. (At least in my memory they didn't...) As we entered the back yard I followed my brother through the gate. Somehow my hand did not get all the way through and the gate slammed on it. Well you can guess who got the blame. It was not my brothers fault but I sure made it seem that way. (After all, he should have made certain my hand was clear!)

I was furious. I turned around, jumped on my bike, and pedaled right for the road. Now the neighbors I speak of had a lovely yard. This included some beautiful trees, scenic garden rocks, (big ones) and a five foot privacy hedge all around... It was this attractive hedge that served to block my view of the road, while preventing any idiotic kids to been seen from the road. (Stupid hedge...) Out into the road I headed at full speed. From the corner of my eye something caught my attention. I turned my head to look only to see a black car right on top of me. I had time for one short scream before the car impacted my bike. (Car-1 Bike-0) The bike stopped. I did not. The force of the impact sent me flying. I landed on a huge garden rock in the front yard. My ankle got caught in one of the pockets in the rock and I felt it wrench. I rolled off the rock and onto the lawn. (I was very fortunate I did not land on my head, I might have broken their pretty rock)

So there I lay trying to process what just happened. My brother came running over, having heard my scream. He had no idea what happened. Out of the car explodes a lady of about 30 I would guess. Tears are streaming down her face and she is repeating the words "Oh my God, O my God" over and over. She comes to where I am and begins frantically checking me over. At this point in time I felt no pain, and this panic stricken woman becomes my focus. I try to assure her I am fine. I stand up and walk. "See?" I say. "I am fine!" She is not convinced. "But you are bleeding!" she croaks out. I look down. Sure enough I am roughed up pretty bad. My ankle is badly scraped up and my elbow and arm is dripping blood. "Oh this is nothing, just some scrapes." I say nonchalantly hoping she will just leave. She asks me between "Oh my Gods" where I live. She begs me to let her take me home.

I imagined her driving me home and telling my mother what happened. There would be no questions... No rational thought... visions of my mother choking her to death filled my mind. I could not let that happen. I spent what felt like an eternity trying to convince this woman just to leave. I think she was terrified she would be sued and did not realize that I was getting her out of not only being sued but perhaps physically maimed. Finally she got in her car still crying and drove away at two miles per hour and looking in all the driveways to make sure there were no other children flying out into her path. I felt really bad for her.

I went to my bike which was totaled. I picked it up and told my brother to come on. He had been pretty much silent the whole time, and now he was white in the face. Maybe it was the blood all over me. I swore him to secrecy on pain of death (and he was still little enough at nine years old to fear me) until I could explain it to mom. I limped three blocks home and hid my bike. My brother disappeared.

I went straight to the bathroom and tried to get most of the blood cleaned off before I called my mother. Finally I gave up and called her. I remember sitting on the toilet and praying I could word this right. By now my ankle is really beginning to hurt. My mother came in with that look. I knew that look. I had seen it many times before. It signaled panic that was just below the surface. I asked her to sit down... "Elizabeth?" she said in that voice (Yup panic surfacing) as she noticed the blood. I said calmly..."Mom I need you not to panic..." Bad thing to say. Her voice became a screech. "Elizabeth! What happened!!! Tell me now!" Throwing all caution to the wind I calmly said, "I am fine Mom, but I was hit by a car on my bike." There I said it...it was out. I thought I killed her. Her face turned white and I did not see her breathing. I was relieved when then she began to cry and strip me to see all my boo boo's. I thought she had suffered a stroke for a moment there.

After she had examined me, I told her my ankle was injured. Well she took that a little better and near carried me to the car screaming for the family. Turned out it was very badly sprained and wrung out. For the next three months I endured sixth grade on crutches. Let me paint the scene for you. Middle School. Portables. The few friends I did have nicknamed me Lizard because of my tall skinny figure. (even teachers adopted it) Geeky girl on crutches. Need I say more?

I end this story with a shout out to that poor woman that I think I may have psychologically damaged for life. I am sorry for not stopping to think.