Evergladdies (part 2)
We got into the car on Saturday night, Annie, Mark and I, after the party (which was really Sunday morning). This party was a coworker of mine and Mark's, it was polite to stop by (and we had nothing else going on). "I am done with parties," I told the couple to which Annie had the smart reply of "good, then maybe we won't have to keep on giving you rides." I just could not understand how Mark was with that woman. He had gone out with nice girls before, when we had our own business, but he refused to explain to me the charm of her. "If you don't see it, you don't see it. But I love her, you know?, I love her, so I would like if you could get along with her or at the very least, just shut up and try not to make trouble." I shut up during the ride, almost.
"Thanks for giving me a ride," two minutes into it. It had have been three in the morning (later they told me it was around three forty two when they got the call from the nice lady whose apartment was three stories up, who knew what she was doing awake at that time.) and I was tired, but that was not enough to keep my mouth shut. "So, Mark are you interested in getting lunch tomorrow?" This was code word for "Mark, let's get some lunch tomorrow, and if she has to come along, so be it." Annie also new the code and jumped in. "Actually, Mark and I are going out of town for a few days, alone." I said that was cool, or something, I don't exactly remember and the details are not that important. Was is important is what happened next.
We stopped at a stop light, red light. Remember, this was winter, the snow had melted, but the streets were still icy. As the light stayed red, I remember it being red for a long time, "Annie, why don't you like me?" I hate it when people ask this question, it is incredibly annoying and puts the person on the spot if they are polite. "There are many reasons I don't like you, and the top is that you are a loser."
"A loser? What kind of shit is this. See, Mark, this is what I am talking about, she thinks I am a jerk when it is not true."
"You are a loser (Mark, you have been talking about me?) why can't you get your life strait instead of walking around like nothing is going to happen to you, ever?"
"This is why I asked you to shut up, man." Mark jumped in.
"Don't try to save me, leave him out of this, bitch!" I was quick to bark back.
The light turned green, and Mark tapped hard on the gas. Remember, this is winter, but the streets were cleared, almost. The car drove past the intersection, and the front left tire skidded on a patch of ice. The car continue to move forward, but spun 180 degrees until the right side of the car lined up with the sidewalk perfectly. What stopped us was, first, the mailbox that crashed into the right side of the car in the middle (between the front passenger seat door and the back door, on the frame of the car). Then the front of the car had enough force to take out a lamp post on the curb that slammed onto the front hood. The hood afterwards (in the photos) looked like it has been electrified and sprung up into the air. The front windshield broke apart, along with the right side door windows. I was fine, for the most part, a piece of glass cut my face. And Annie was alright to, the side airbag went off and she was nicked with a bit of glass too. Mark, however, was jostled in his seat, glass all over, and he was not moving. I was scared as god knows what.
The nice lady heard the crash from three stories above and called 911, which in turn came with the truck, which got the ambulance to rush Mark off. We, Annie and I, were not severe. We were taken to the hospital also, the one where Mark was being treated right now. We were so scared. I felt so stupid for arguing, if Mark had not paid attention to us yelling at each other, he would have seen the ice patch, he saw another one a few minutes before.
Eventually, the sounds and the sirens, and the faces lunging past my view, I gave up in trying to remember, and I forget everything after the ambulance Mark was in took off. I finally returned to a normal state of mind sitting in a slightly cushioned chair in a bright white hospital wing, next to Annie, who was more bandaged up than I was. We sat there, for half an hour, thinking before we said anything to each other.