20/08Title: Joey
Disclaimer: Michael, Maria, and all the other Roswell characters aren't my property. Their progeny aren't either. Maybe they shouldn't be anyone's property, I mean isn't that why we have the 13th amendment?
Category: alien Abyss, future time
Rating: Teen.
Summary: Taking place 20 years after turnabout Roswell, (for those few of you that can find that out of print book), life goes on for the remaining aliens and their progeny.
Coach McGuire was watching as the cross-country team was finishing its 6th practice of the year, the first one where they were actually letting the athletes run for distance, if only two miles. He had been impressed during the conditioning drills by two people, Billy and Joey.
Billy’s performance was no great surprise to him, because Billy Jordan had been a cross-country runner of considerable note in the state of New Mexico for two years. He had placed second in the state last year, as a junior, and pretty much everyone expected him to lead the West Roswell High team to the state championship this year, at least for the boys division.
But the young freshman Joey Guerin was somewhat of a surprise to him. Not very tall, and not having the stride to be a classic cross-country runner, Joey had attacked the conditioning drills savagely, never once letting up. You didn’t really expect that in someone who had never been coached about conditioning; although McGuire recalled that Joey had been a star in the youth hockey league his own daughter had played in.
As he watched, he saw Billy Jordan come around the gym, less than a quarter mile to the course finish. To his amazement, Joey was only about 10 feet behind, and was….gaining. McGuire looked at his stopwatch in amazement. Billy’s time was going to be incredible, considering how early in the training season this was, and the strain was showing on him. He’d obviously been pushed around the whole course by Joey. Looking behind him briefly at his pursuer, now almost abreast of him, Billy put on a last burst for the finish line. His longer legs finally proved the difference, with Joey no longer able to offset his greater stride with her faster pace, and she drifted back to finish second perhaps 40 feet behind him.
Looking back toward the gym, McGuire saw two of the other boys on the mixed gender team just now coming into view, with none of the other girls on the team anywhere near in sight. ‘Damn,’ he thought. ‘They were going to go to state. They had several talented boys in addition to Billy, and Joey had beaten all of them. She was going to dominate against any female runner he’d seen in their conference in the three years McGuire had been coaching. Man, would they have a team this year….
Joey (AA/CC teen) [WIP]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
Joey (AA/CC teen) [WIP]
Last edited by greywolf on Sun Jan 20, 2008 11:18 pm, edited 83 times in total.
The football team had a 5 minute practice break and Andrew Douglas was at the water bucket, drinking Gatorade and tossing some water in his face.
The New Mexico sun beat down upon them savagely, and it was over a hundred degrees on the field. He had been watching for the cross-country runners to come into view, even during the practice. That indiscretion would cost him 50 pushups at the end of practice, but what the heck; the object was to get in shape anyway. He’d almost laughed out loud when he saw the young girl pushing hot on the heels of Billy Jordan coming around the gym, and he was even more amused observing the vexed look Jordan gave her as she passed him on a cool down lap on the track, while Jordan himself stood off to the side with his hands on his knees, panting, and looking to all the world like he’d collapse at any moment. Two other boys on the cross-country team who had trailed Joey Guerin at the finish, trailed by a considerable margin he noted, stopped by Jordan and looked glaringly at the back of the young lady now half a lap ahead of them on the track. There was little doubt that they hadn’t liked being shown up by a freshman girl. Get used to it, thought Andrew.
He remembered the junior coed soccer game when he was in fourth grade, and she was in third, each on a team in the finals for the leagues championship. Joey Guerin had already scored three goals in a game that was then a four-four tie. The last ball had blown by their goalie, who Andrew remembered had been a very good goalie, and the humiliation of having a little girl score a hat trick on him had been too much for the fourth-grader. He’d charged into her hard, a vicious and stupid foul. He’d been immediately red-carded by the referees.
Although normally a Forward, Drew had been tapped by the coach to fill in for the goalie to hold on for the last 60 seconds of play. About 30 seconds later he’d been watching a very determined Joey Guerin blow by their Striker and come at him one on one. He remembered the eye-fake to the left, the hip fake to the right, a faked kick back to the left, followed by a quick tap of the ball right through where he had just been standing, after he launched himself for an heroic save where he’d been convinced the ball was going.
Looking back at that game he smiled at the thought of himself laying on his face as the goal was tallied and the clock expired. The only reason he hadn’t been faked out of his jock strap was that he was too young to need one. ‘I can feel your pain’, he thought with amusement, looking at the three cross-country guys, but he knew she wasn’t going to ease up. If they didn’t like the situation, they’d better start training as hard as she did, or learn to live with the embarrassment.
He had admired her since that day in fourth grade, more than admired her, actually. They’d never played on the same field again, because 5th grade was the start of gender specific teams, and his later games were all in the boy’s league. He’d watched her play though, and loved the fact that she never let up. There were people in the leagues that were better soccer players than her, not many, but some. But there was no one who worked as hard at being good at it, no one who had more determination. The football coach blew his whistle and Drew turned quickly back to the practice. He enjoyed watching her do her cool down lap, her sweaty jersey attractively outlining her body, and her shorts showing off her muscular legs, but he’d already invested fifty pushups in admiring her, and the next time the coach yelled at him to pay attention it’d be an additional hundred pushups. And it wasn’t as if she was interested in him, after all. She’d made that clear. Still, a guy could dream……
The New Mexico sun beat down upon them savagely, and it was over a hundred degrees on the field. He had been watching for the cross-country runners to come into view, even during the practice. That indiscretion would cost him 50 pushups at the end of practice, but what the heck; the object was to get in shape anyway. He’d almost laughed out loud when he saw the young girl pushing hot on the heels of Billy Jordan coming around the gym, and he was even more amused observing the vexed look Jordan gave her as she passed him on a cool down lap on the track, while Jordan himself stood off to the side with his hands on his knees, panting, and looking to all the world like he’d collapse at any moment. Two other boys on the cross-country team who had trailed Joey Guerin at the finish, trailed by a considerable margin he noted, stopped by Jordan and looked glaringly at the back of the young lady now half a lap ahead of them on the track. There was little doubt that they hadn’t liked being shown up by a freshman girl. Get used to it, thought Andrew.
He remembered the junior coed soccer game when he was in fourth grade, and she was in third, each on a team in the finals for the leagues championship. Joey Guerin had already scored three goals in a game that was then a four-four tie. The last ball had blown by their goalie, who Andrew remembered had been a very good goalie, and the humiliation of having a little girl score a hat trick on him had been too much for the fourth-grader. He’d charged into her hard, a vicious and stupid foul. He’d been immediately red-carded by the referees.
Although normally a Forward, Drew had been tapped by the coach to fill in for the goalie to hold on for the last 60 seconds of play. About 30 seconds later he’d been watching a very determined Joey Guerin blow by their Striker and come at him one on one. He remembered the eye-fake to the left, the hip fake to the right, a faked kick back to the left, followed by a quick tap of the ball right through where he had just been standing, after he launched himself for an heroic save where he’d been convinced the ball was going.
Looking back at that game he smiled at the thought of himself laying on his face as the goal was tallied and the clock expired. The only reason he hadn’t been faked out of his jock strap was that he was too young to need one. ‘I can feel your pain’, he thought with amusement, looking at the three cross-country guys, but he knew she wasn’t going to ease up. If they didn’t like the situation, they’d better start training as hard as she did, or learn to live with the embarrassment.
He had admired her since that day in fourth grade, more than admired her, actually. They’d never played on the same field again, because 5th grade was the start of gender specific teams, and his later games were all in the boy’s league. He’d watched her play though, and loved the fact that she never let up. There were people in the leagues that were better soccer players than her, not many, but some. But there was no one who worked as hard at being good at it, no one who had more determination. The football coach blew his whistle and Drew turned quickly back to the practice. He enjoyed watching her do her cool down lap, her sweaty jersey attractively outlining her body, and her shorts showing off her muscular legs, but he’d already invested fifty pushups in admiring her, and the next time the coach yelled at him to pay attention it’d be an additional hundred pushups. And it wasn’t as if she was interested in him, after all. She’d made that clear. Still, a guy could dream……
As Joey finished the cool down lap, she walked slowly over to the water fountain. She let the water spray up onto her face cooling her, then took a sip and sloshed it around inside her mouth before swallowing slowly. She repeated this several times, and looked up to see the football team practice. Her eyes scanned for number 25, and found him quickly.
She thought back to the day 5 or 6 years ago, when she’d first seen him in the kid’s soccer league championship. He’d scored a couple of really impressive goals that day. As time had been running out, she recalled, his team was shorthanded because of a penalty on their goalie. He’d been put in goal, a position he’d never played before, and immediately faced a power play by her team. Her team, as she recalled, had been really good that year. The final pass had come to her, and with time running out she had desperately struggled to get past the defenders. Eventually she was one on one with Drew in goal. She had tried every trick she knew, and finally he went for a fake that enabled her to tap the ball gently into the net. When the teams had gotten together in the center of the field to shake hands, she had been glared at by most of Drew’s team, but not by Drew Douglas. He had shaken her hand with a big smile and said “Four goals in a game! Nice going. Especially that last one, you put moves on me I’ve never seen anyone do before. You earned the title.”
She’d never played on a field with him again, but she’d watched him play. She’d kind of had a crush on him ever since that day. They’d gone to different elementary schools, and it wasn’t until her first year in junior high school that she’d actually gone to the same school with him. She remembered that he, a big eighth grader had asked her to the eighth grade dance when she was only in seventh grade. But of course, she couldn’t let herself get close to him. Other than her family, she really couldn’t get too close to anyone. Then he’d left Junior High after eighth grade, and after another year had gone by they were both at West Roswell.
But nothing had really changed. She still couldn’t get too close to him. But all teenagers have their fantasies, and he’d been an unknowing participant in more than a few of hers over the years. But they were only fantasies, she sighed. And always would be.
She thought back to the day 5 or 6 years ago, when she’d first seen him in the kid’s soccer league championship. He’d scored a couple of really impressive goals that day. As time had been running out, she recalled, his team was shorthanded because of a penalty on their goalie. He’d been put in goal, a position he’d never played before, and immediately faced a power play by her team. Her team, as she recalled, had been really good that year. The final pass had come to her, and with time running out she had desperately struggled to get past the defenders. Eventually she was one on one with Drew in goal. She had tried every trick she knew, and finally he went for a fake that enabled her to tap the ball gently into the net. When the teams had gotten together in the center of the field to shake hands, she had been glared at by most of Drew’s team, but not by Drew Douglas. He had shaken her hand with a big smile and said “Four goals in a game! Nice going. Especially that last one, you put moves on me I’ve never seen anyone do before. You earned the title.”
She’d never played on a field with him again, but she’d watched him play. She’d kind of had a crush on him ever since that day. They’d gone to different elementary schools, and it wasn’t until her first year in junior high school that she’d actually gone to the same school with him. She remembered that he, a big eighth grader had asked her to the eighth grade dance when she was only in seventh grade. But of course, she couldn’t let herself get close to him. Other than her family, she really couldn’t get too close to anyone. Then he’d left Junior High after eighth grade, and after another year had gone by they were both at West Roswell.
But nothing had really changed. She still couldn’t get too close to him. But all teenagers have their fantasies, and he’d been an unknowing participant in more than a few of hers over the years. But they were only fantasies, she sighed. And always would be.
“Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine,…fifty.” Standing after doing his pushups he saw Joey Guerin entering the locker room on the way to the showers.
Drew shook his head slowly. He’d occasionally had fantasies of seeing Joey in the shower…., delightful in their own way, but probably not nearly as good as the real thing.
He shook his head again, remembering his embarrassing and clumsy attempt to ask her to the dance in the eighth grade. After two weeks of getting his courage up, putting it off a dozen times until the spot was just right and he could talk to her alone, she had told him that she was sorry, but she just didn’t go to stuff like that, that he was nice, and that she "liked him," but they were just “too different” to be anything other than casual friends. ‘What the hell did that mean? Too different?’ he asked himself again. Boys and girls were supposed to be different. He wouldn’t have wanted to invite another boy to the dance! He hoped she wasn’t gay. What a pity that would be, he thought.
“Hey Douglas!” the coach yelled. “Daydreaming again? Drop and give me a hundred pushups!”
Drew shook his head slowly. He’d occasionally had fantasies of seeing Joey in the shower…., delightful in their own way, but probably not nearly as good as the real thing.
He shook his head again, remembering his embarrassing and clumsy attempt to ask her to the dance in the eighth grade. After two weeks of getting his courage up, putting it off a dozen times until the spot was just right and he could talk to her alone, she had told him that she was sorry, but she just didn’t go to stuff like that, that he was nice, and that she "liked him," but they were just “too different” to be anything other than casual friends. ‘What the hell did that mean? Too different?’ he asked himself again. Boys and girls were supposed to be different. He wouldn’t have wanted to invite another boy to the dance! He hoped she wasn’t gay. What a pity that would be, he thought.
“Hey Douglas!” the coach yelled. “Daydreaming again? Drop and give me a hundred pushups!”
It was Friday Morning, and the alarm clock was buzzing loudly. It had done this three times before, and each time Joey managed to swat the sleep button without fully waking up. She awakened quickly though to the knock at her door, as her mother came in to her room.
“Good morning Sweetie,” she said. “Rise and shine!”
Her mother, Joey decided, had forgotten completely what it was like to be a teenager. But she knew that this morning was special, so she did indeed try to shake the cobwebs out, realizing that her parents were about to go out the door for a week.
“Here is the hotel number, and we’ll both be carrying our cell phones,” said her mom. "Grandma and Grandpa are in charge, and you need to realize that they go to bed at about 10:00PM, and you can’t really watch TV or anything after that time without keeping them up. Curfew time is also 10:00PM, unless they approve a later time. And remember, Grandpa used to be Sheriff around here, and can probably tell what kind of trouble you’ve gotten into before you even realize you’ve gotten into it yourself.”
“Mother,” said Joey, “I’ve never gotten into any kind of trouble.”
“I know darling, and after what they went through when I was in High School, I’m sure they’ll find you no trouble at all. But your father has always wanted us to have a REAL honeymoon, and after 20 years waiting it would be nice if we had no telephone calls from your brother in Albuquerque or your grandparents here that caused us to cut it short. Once we are on the cruise ship, we are kind of trapped there. So please just be on your best behavior, and we’ll keep our fingers crossed that your brother doesn’t have any freshman in college troubles.”
“I still wish you’d let me stay here at home, rather than sleeping at Gram and Gramps, Mom.”
“Sorry honey. If your brother weren’t off to college, I wouldn’t have any problem with the two of you being here, but your father and I don’t think a fifteen year girl should be left alone in a house for almost a week.”
“Why not, Mom? It’s not like I have a social life or anything anyway? And it’s not like I couldn’t handle a prowler or burglar or something if it came to that.”
“We’ve had this discussion, darling, and the answer isn’t going to change because you didn’t like it the first three times you heard it. Now get ready for school, come down to breakfast, and we’ll drop you off at school on our way to the airport. You can walk or take the bus home to Grandma and Grandpa's, and they can bring you back tomorrow to pick up whatever you need for the rest of the weekend.”
“Yes, Mom….”
As she walked down the stairs Maria smiled, remembering her own teen years, and the trials and tribulations of being a 15 year old girl. She wondered if Michael was ready for this…..
“Good morning Sweetie,” she said. “Rise and shine!”
Her mother, Joey decided, had forgotten completely what it was like to be a teenager. But she knew that this morning was special, so she did indeed try to shake the cobwebs out, realizing that her parents were about to go out the door for a week.
“Here is the hotel number, and we’ll both be carrying our cell phones,” said her mom. "Grandma and Grandpa are in charge, and you need to realize that they go to bed at about 10:00PM, and you can’t really watch TV or anything after that time without keeping them up. Curfew time is also 10:00PM, unless they approve a later time. And remember, Grandpa used to be Sheriff around here, and can probably tell what kind of trouble you’ve gotten into before you even realize you’ve gotten into it yourself.”
“Mother,” said Joey, “I’ve never gotten into any kind of trouble.”
“I know darling, and after what they went through when I was in High School, I’m sure they’ll find you no trouble at all. But your father has always wanted us to have a REAL honeymoon, and after 20 years waiting it would be nice if we had no telephone calls from your brother in Albuquerque or your grandparents here that caused us to cut it short. Once we are on the cruise ship, we are kind of trapped there. So please just be on your best behavior, and we’ll keep our fingers crossed that your brother doesn’t have any freshman in college troubles.”
“I still wish you’d let me stay here at home, rather than sleeping at Gram and Gramps, Mom.”
“Sorry honey. If your brother weren’t off to college, I wouldn’t have any problem with the two of you being here, but your father and I don’t think a fifteen year girl should be left alone in a house for almost a week.”
“Why not, Mom? It’s not like I have a social life or anything anyway? And it’s not like I couldn’t handle a prowler or burglar or something if it came to that.”
“We’ve had this discussion, darling, and the answer isn’t going to change because you didn’t like it the first three times you heard it. Now get ready for school, come down to breakfast, and we’ll drop you off at school on our way to the airport. You can walk or take the bus home to Grandma and Grandpa's, and they can bring you back tomorrow to pick up whatever you need for the rest of the weekend.”
“Yes, Mom….”
As she walked down the stairs Maria smiled, remembering her own teen years, and the trials and tribulations of being a 15 year old girl. She wondered if Michael was ready for this…..
Last edited by greywolf on Sat Nov 22, 2008 12:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
“The game should be over by 9:30 Grandma, and I should be home by 10:00. But I’ll give you a call on my cell phone if anything comes up,” said Joey.
Amy Valenti smiled at her granddaughter. “OK darling, you have fun. Are you sure you don’t want me or Grandpa to pick you up?”
“No Grandma, that’s OK. I can walk.”
Watching her granddaughter leave the house, Amy shook her head. To her knowledge, her granddaughter had never watched a football game on TV in her life, although her grandfather and Uncle Kyle loved the game. But somehow, last year, she’d noticed that the shy eighth-grader had hiked over to West Roswell High for every single home game the freshman football team had played.
No one EVER went to freshman football games, she remembered, except for the family and friends of the players. They were held in the afternoon, a couple of hours after classes were over. An audience of a hundred people constituted quite a crowd, mostly the moms and dads of the home team players. But Joey hadn’t missed a one.
Amy had gone to pick her up after one game, and arrived early to find her granddaughter sitting quietly by herself along the top of the bleachers. While Amy wasn’t a big football fan either, she’d realized even then that when the Roswell offense was on the field, her granddaughter was watching the play on the field, and when the Roswell defense was on the field, she was watching…..someone on the Roswell bench.
She smiled evilly and wondered if Michael was ready for this. She loved her son-in-law dearly, but an old memory of a weekend she’d paced the floor while a way too young Michael and way too young Maria had toured Arizona in her old Jetta came suddenly to her mind. ‘What goes around comes around, Michael,' she thought to herself, half-smiling.
Amy Valenti smiled at her granddaughter. “OK darling, you have fun. Are you sure you don’t want me or Grandpa to pick you up?”
“No Grandma, that’s OK. I can walk.”
Watching her granddaughter leave the house, Amy shook her head. To her knowledge, her granddaughter had never watched a football game on TV in her life, although her grandfather and Uncle Kyle loved the game. But somehow, last year, she’d noticed that the shy eighth-grader had hiked over to West Roswell High for every single home game the freshman football team had played.
No one EVER went to freshman football games, she remembered, except for the family and friends of the players. They were held in the afternoon, a couple of hours after classes were over. An audience of a hundred people constituted quite a crowd, mostly the moms and dads of the home team players. But Joey hadn’t missed a one.
Amy had gone to pick her up after one game, and arrived early to find her granddaughter sitting quietly by herself along the top of the bleachers. While Amy wasn’t a big football fan either, she’d realized even then that when the Roswell offense was on the field, her granddaughter was watching the play on the field, and when the Roswell defense was on the field, she was watching…..someone on the Roswell bench.
She smiled evilly and wondered if Michael was ready for this. She loved her son-in-law dearly, but an old memory of a weekend she’d paced the floor while a way too young Michael and way too young Maria had toured Arizona in her old Jetta came suddenly to her mind. ‘What goes around comes around, Michael,' she thought to herself, half-smiling.
Sitting in the stands at halftime Joey looked up at the scoreboard and listened to the play-by-play announcer from the schools FM station recapping the first half.
“And the real surprise for West Roswell in the first half was the outstanding play by the young sophomore running back number 25 Andrew Douglas who scored once on a sweep and set up the Comet’s second touchdown by catching a pass over the middle to take the ball to the three yard line. Douglas showed a lot of promise on the freshman team last year, but is clearly making more of an impact than anyone would have expected. And now, as the band clears the field, back come the Comets, leading arch-rival Alamogordo 21 to 14.”
In the mass of Roswell players returning to the field, her eyes sought out and quickly found number 25.
Late in the third quarter it happened, and Joey saw it coming, way too late to do anything about it. It was a sweep with Drew carrying the ball, and it looked briefly like only the safety stood between Drew and a long touchdown. But an Alamogordo linebacker was trailing the play, not quite out of it, and when Drew slowed to make his move to get by the safety, the linebacker launched himself. He barely reached Drew’s ankle, but it was enough to trip him up, to sprawl him forward into the path of the safety who had taken the fake and had already launched himself at the waist of the Roswell running back. But as Drew fell, it wasn’t his waist that took the helmet of the onrushing safety, it was his facemask.
Joey watched horrified, as if the play were in slow motion. She’d played sports for most of her life, she could anticipate movement, she could see better and think faster than most of the people on the field, and she winced as she saw Drew’s helmet fly back, watched as his neck extended, much farther and far more forcibly than any neck should be extended.
It was a freak accident, nobody’s fault, not a cheap shot, but she knew it was bad. Even before the coach and trainer left the bench, she was working her way through the crowd on the bleachers to get near him.
“I’m sorry miss, you can’t go out on the field,” said Deputy Garcia, looking at the devastated young blonde girl before him. Garcia normally enjoyed providing security at the games, remembering his own days playing on this same field. But this game had suddenly become a nightmare and he was struggling to keep concerned friends and family back from the injured player, working to give the EMT and Paramedic the time and space they needed to immobilize the neck of the young man, and get him off to the Emergency room.
She looked up at him with beautiful blue eyes, her cheeks streaked with tears, and for a second he thought he saw a flash of fire behind those eyes, almost a challenge. He could almost feel her think that there weren’t enough cops in all of New Mexico to keep her off that field and he instinctively took a step back, uncertain why he felt threatened by someone half his weight and not much more than five feet tall.
But then she looked at the field where the ambulance crew was working hurriedly, and she gave a quiet sob, and Garcia’s heart melted.
“Look Miss, they are doing everything they can for him, OK? Let them do their job and get him to the hospital where he can be taken care of. That’s what he needs right now.” The deputy watched as the young girl turned away. The injured kid’s girlfriend probably, he thought. Hell of a lousy night for her. Hell of a lousy night for everybody.
“And the real surprise for West Roswell in the first half was the outstanding play by the young sophomore running back number 25 Andrew Douglas who scored once on a sweep and set up the Comet’s second touchdown by catching a pass over the middle to take the ball to the three yard line. Douglas showed a lot of promise on the freshman team last year, but is clearly making more of an impact than anyone would have expected. And now, as the band clears the field, back come the Comets, leading arch-rival Alamogordo 21 to 14.”
In the mass of Roswell players returning to the field, her eyes sought out and quickly found number 25.
Late in the third quarter it happened, and Joey saw it coming, way too late to do anything about it. It was a sweep with Drew carrying the ball, and it looked briefly like only the safety stood between Drew and a long touchdown. But an Alamogordo linebacker was trailing the play, not quite out of it, and when Drew slowed to make his move to get by the safety, the linebacker launched himself. He barely reached Drew’s ankle, but it was enough to trip him up, to sprawl him forward into the path of the safety who had taken the fake and had already launched himself at the waist of the Roswell running back. But as Drew fell, it wasn’t his waist that took the helmet of the onrushing safety, it was his facemask.
Joey watched horrified, as if the play were in slow motion. She’d played sports for most of her life, she could anticipate movement, she could see better and think faster than most of the people on the field, and she winced as she saw Drew’s helmet fly back, watched as his neck extended, much farther and far more forcibly than any neck should be extended.
It was a freak accident, nobody’s fault, not a cheap shot, but she knew it was bad. Even before the coach and trainer left the bench, she was working her way through the crowd on the bleachers to get near him.
“I’m sorry miss, you can’t go out on the field,” said Deputy Garcia, looking at the devastated young blonde girl before him. Garcia normally enjoyed providing security at the games, remembering his own days playing on this same field. But this game had suddenly become a nightmare and he was struggling to keep concerned friends and family back from the injured player, working to give the EMT and Paramedic the time and space they needed to immobilize the neck of the young man, and get him off to the Emergency room.
She looked up at him with beautiful blue eyes, her cheeks streaked with tears, and for a second he thought he saw a flash of fire behind those eyes, almost a challenge. He could almost feel her think that there weren’t enough cops in all of New Mexico to keep her off that field and he instinctively took a step back, uncertain why he felt threatened by someone half his weight and not much more than five feet tall.
But then she looked at the field where the ambulance crew was working hurriedly, and she gave a quiet sob, and Garcia’s heart melted.
“Look Miss, they are doing everything they can for him, OK? Let them do their job and get him to the hospital where he can be taken care of. That’s what he needs right now.” The deputy watched as the young girl turned away. The injured kid’s girlfriend probably, he thought. Hell of a lousy night for her. Hell of a lousy night for everybody.
Andrew Douglas heard noises around him as he slowly awakened. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and he realized he was inside some sort of metal enclosure that was making humming noises. Something was in his mouth, gagging him, and he tried to work it out with his tongue. His head ached, and his neck was on fire. As he tried to reach his neck he became suddenly and terrifyingly aware of not being able to move his right arm, not even being able to FEEL his right arm. Or his legs either, he noted with gathering panic. He moved his left shoulder slightly and this was greeted by a shout from nearby.
“Please try not to move. You were hurt at the football game, and we are getting a CT scan to check you for injuries.”
He worked the plastic airway out of his mouth, and it fell beside his head. His neck hurt, but what terrified him was not the pain in his neck, but the absence of feeling from most of the rest of his body.
“Are my Mom and Dad here?”
Joey sat silently in the back corner of the Emergency Room waiting area. At the front, near the door, was a couple in their early forties, the woman crying, with her head buried in the shoulder of the grim-faced man next to her. Joey had seen them for years, although she’d never really met them and didn’t even know their first names. They’d been there in junior league hockey, supporting their son. And they’d been there again last year, part of the small crowd that had showed up for freshman football games. They were, she knew, Drew’s parents.
Normally an attractive woman and handsome man, they were too scared to appear as anything but what they were, terrified parents, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. At last the ER nurse came out and said
“Mr. and Mrs. Douglas? Would you please come with me?”
She lead them back to the ER area entrance and ran her ID badge through the reader, opening the door for them to enter. It closed behind them.
Joey got slowly to her feet and walked to the door. She looked casually around the waiting area. No one was paying any particular attention to the young blonde girl with the tearful eyes as she brought her hand across the card reader, imitating the actions of the nurse. The door opened, and she stepped inside, observing the ER physician starting to talk to Drew’s worried parents at the end of a long hall. Quietly she walked toward them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, I’m Doctor Reilly, one of the physicians who’ve been treating your son.”
“How bad is it doctor?” said Roger Douglas.
“Your son” said Doctor Reilly “has sustained displaced fractures involving both the second and third cervical vertebrae with spinal cord damage at the level of the fractures. We have stabilized him, but we are arranging for a helicopter to transport him to the trauma center in El Paso where they have more extensive capabilities for treatment. Your son is conscious currently, and is breathing on his own.”
“Can we see him now?” said a shaking Barbara Douglas.
“In a few minutes, but first we need to talk. Your son has sustained some severe trauma to his spinal cord. That has been stabilized, and he has been given high dose steroids to help control inflammation, but we really need to get him to El Paso where they can do a decompression operation on his spine to keep the swelling from the injury from doing further damage.”
“How much damage does he have to his spine,” Roger Douglas asked, looking the physician straight in the eye.
“Considerable, I’m afraid,” replied the physician. “He currently has no feeling, movement, or reflexes in his right upper extremity and both lower extremities. He has feeling to the left shoulder, and limited use of some of the muscles of his left upper arm.”
“Oh God, Roger…..” cried Mrs. Douglas, burying her head in his chest.
As he comforted his wife, the man’s eyes turned to the doctor and said with infinite sadness, “I take it you don’t expect much improvement in his arm or legs then doctor?”
“I wish it were different, Mr. Douglas. We should always hope for the best, and sometimes things come out better than we expect with good rehabilitation…..but, no…this is a pretty devastating injury and we need to work hard right now just to not let it get any worse.”
As the three people sat in the small conference room, they did not notice the quiet young girl in the hall outside the doorway, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.
“Please try not to move. You were hurt at the football game, and we are getting a CT scan to check you for injuries.”
He worked the plastic airway out of his mouth, and it fell beside his head. His neck hurt, but what terrified him was not the pain in his neck, but the absence of feeling from most of the rest of his body.
“Are my Mom and Dad here?”
Joey sat silently in the back corner of the Emergency Room waiting area. At the front, near the door, was a couple in their early forties, the woman crying, with her head buried in the shoulder of the grim-faced man next to her. Joey had seen them for years, although she’d never really met them and didn’t even know their first names. They’d been there in junior league hockey, supporting their son. And they’d been there again last year, part of the small crowd that had showed up for freshman football games. They were, she knew, Drew’s parents.
Normally an attractive woman and handsome man, they were too scared to appear as anything but what they were, terrified parents, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. At last the ER nurse came out and said
“Mr. and Mrs. Douglas? Would you please come with me?”
She lead them back to the ER area entrance and ran her ID badge through the reader, opening the door for them to enter. It closed behind them.
Joey got slowly to her feet and walked to the door. She looked casually around the waiting area. No one was paying any particular attention to the young blonde girl with the tearful eyes as she brought her hand across the card reader, imitating the actions of the nurse. The door opened, and she stepped inside, observing the ER physician starting to talk to Drew’s worried parents at the end of a long hall. Quietly she walked toward them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, I’m Doctor Reilly, one of the physicians who’ve been treating your son.”
“How bad is it doctor?” said Roger Douglas.
“Your son” said Doctor Reilly “has sustained displaced fractures involving both the second and third cervical vertebrae with spinal cord damage at the level of the fractures. We have stabilized him, but we are arranging for a helicopter to transport him to the trauma center in El Paso where they have more extensive capabilities for treatment. Your son is conscious currently, and is breathing on his own.”
“Can we see him now?” said a shaking Barbara Douglas.
“In a few minutes, but first we need to talk. Your son has sustained some severe trauma to his spinal cord. That has been stabilized, and he has been given high dose steroids to help control inflammation, but we really need to get him to El Paso where they can do a decompression operation on his spine to keep the swelling from the injury from doing further damage.”
“How much damage does he have to his spine,” Roger Douglas asked, looking the physician straight in the eye.
“Considerable, I’m afraid,” replied the physician. “He currently has no feeling, movement, or reflexes in his right upper extremity and both lower extremities. He has feeling to the left shoulder, and limited use of some of the muscles of his left upper arm.”
“Oh God, Roger…..” cried Mrs. Douglas, burying her head in his chest.
As he comforted his wife, the man’s eyes turned to the doctor and said with infinite sadness, “I take it you don’t expect much improvement in his arm or legs then doctor?”
“I wish it were different, Mr. Douglas. We should always hope for the best, and sometimes things come out better than we expect with good rehabilitation…..but, no…this is a pretty devastating injury and we need to work hard right now just to not let it get any worse.”
As the three people sat in the small conference room, they did not notice the quiet young girl in the hall outside the doorway, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.
It was 1:00 AM Saturday. Entry to the ICU was controlled, and limited to family members only by a clerk at the main entrance. But two of the ICU doors depended only on keycard control, and after donning surgical scrubs stolen from the female employee locker room, Joey slipped quietly in the back entrance and walked cautiously to the room adjacent to Drew’s. There she heard a physician talking to the young man and to his parents.
“The helicopter will be getting in to the airport in about 40 minutes. When it is done refueling, we’ll transfer you there for the flight to El Paso. What you are in is called a halo traction apparatus. There are four pins gripping your skull holding traction on your neck through a spring device. You will wear that, and a stiff collar to immobilize your neck and keep further damage from occurring during the transport. Once you are at the trauma center, the neurosurgeon will do a decompression and fusion to stabilize the area, and to keep further injury from occurring as the spinal cord swells. We are going to sedate you before that, and have you on a respirator to ensure you breathe properly under the sedation, since your spine injuries may keep your ribcage from working quite as well as it normally does and the sedation will aggravate this even more.”
“So this is my life from now on doctor?” said an obviously scared Drew Douglas.
“Andrew,” said the doctor, “nobody knows what medical advances we’ll see in the future. You’d scarcely believe the progress we’ve made in just the time I’ve been in medicine. I know this is tough, much tougher than anything you’ve ever faced before. But until we do the surgery, until you’ve had the rehab, no one can really say what the final result will be. Lots of people with spinal trauma live rich rewarding lives.”
Drew looked up at his parents, and bit his lip. He knew when someone was bullshitting him, and that’s just what the doctor was doing. But he saw that his mother was devastated, barely able to keep going. His father was split between comforting her, and looking at him with tear-filled eyes.
He knew what he wanted to say, to tell them to just let him die rather than live the rest of his life as a quadriplegic, but he couldn’t say it, not because he didn’t feel like it, not because he wouldn’t mean it, but because he couldn’t do that to his parents. He couldn’t add that further burden to people he loved that were only just holding it together right now. Drew looked up at the doctor, lost in his own thoughts and not hearing a word the doctor was saying to either him or his parents.
In the room next door, a tearful 15 year old girl came at last to a decision, and left the ICU to go back to her own home.
“The helicopter will be getting in to the airport in about 40 minutes. When it is done refueling, we’ll transfer you there for the flight to El Paso. What you are in is called a halo traction apparatus. There are four pins gripping your skull holding traction on your neck through a spring device. You will wear that, and a stiff collar to immobilize your neck and keep further damage from occurring during the transport. Once you are at the trauma center, the neurosurgeon will do a decompression and fusion to stabilize the area, and to keep further injury from occurring as the spinal cord swells. We are going to sedate you before that, and have you on a respirator to ensure you breathe properly under the sedation, since your spine injuries may keep your ribcage from working quite as well as it normally does and the sedation will aggravate this even more.”
“So this is my life from now on doctor?” said an obviously scared Drew Douglas.
“Andrew,” said the doctor, “nobody knows what medical advances we’ll see in the future. You’d scarcely believe the progress we’ve made in just the time I’ve been in medicine. I know this is tough, much tougher than anything you’ve ever faced before. But until we do the surgery, until you’ve had the rehab, no one can really say what the final result will be. Lots of people with spinal trauma live rich rewarding lives.”
Drew looked up at his parents, and bit his lip. He knew when someone was bullshitting him, and that’s just what the doctor was doing. But he saw that his mother was devastated, barely able to keep going. His father was split between comforting her, and looking at him with tear-filled eyes.
He knew what he wanted to say, to tell them to just let him die rather than live the rest of his life as a quadriplegic, but he couldn’t say it, not because he didn’t feel like it, not because he wouldn’t mean it, but because he couldn’t do that to his parents. He couldn’t add that further burden to people he loved that were only just holding it together right now. Drew looked up at the doctor, lost in his own thoughts and not hearing a word the doctor was saying to either him or his parents.
In the room next door, a tearful 15 year old girl came at last to a decision, and left the ICU to go back to her own home.
As Joey hid behind a yucca plant beside the road, she looked out at the desert. The New Mexican desert had a beauty all of its own, and with an almost full moon tonight she could see it almost as well as in full daylight. As she waited for the ambulance she contemplated the miracle and the fragility of the human body. She knew quite a bit about human bodies, actually. Some she just seemed to know, some she had learned from books, much more she’d learned from her uncle Max. She knew that if you were to smother people, for example, it would take quite a period of time for them to use up the air already in their lungs and then to become unconscious. But a few pounds per square inch pressure occluding both carotid arteries, and they’d drop like stones, within seconds.
She’d never done it of course; there was always a small risk that someone would have a stroke, ….although even strokes could be fixed if necessary. But she knew how, and was confident she could, if the circumstances justified it. Then she saw the lights of the ambulance slowly approaching the old train crossing.
The EMT driving the ambulance was surprised when he saw the railroad crossing lights come on. Dang, he’d NEVER seen a train on those old tracks, and the tracks themselves had always had a thick coating of rust on them. Well, he couldn’t take any chances. Maybe he’d never seen a train because it only came by at two o’clock on a Saturday morning. Mindful of the neck injury patient in back, he braked slowly and carefully to a stop. He looked out in the moonlight, straining to see a train coming from either side of the track, but didn’t. Suddenly, he felt goose bumps rise on his skin. It felt almost like some animal was out there, stalking him. He could almost feel it. Then the darkness came……
The paramedic had been checking the respirator attached to the sleeping boy when he’d felt the ambulance slow and stop. He turned to talk to Bob through the partition and saw him slumped over the wheel, apparently unconscious. Had Bob had a seizure? A heart attack? A stroke? Was he even breathing? He grabbed his medical bag and went out the back door, running quickly around to the driver’s side where he’d pulled his friend from the vehicle. He felt quickly for a pulse …there, a good and strong one. He made sure Bob’s airway was open….then the darkness came……..
She’d never done it of course; there was always a small risk that someone would have a stroke, ….although even strokes could be fixed if necessary. But she knew how, and was confident she could, if the circumstances justified it. Then she saw the lights of the ambulance slowly approaching the old train crossing.
The EMT driving the ambulance was surprised when he saw the railroad crossing lights come on. Dang, he’d NEVER seen a train on those old tracks, and the tracks themselves had always had a thick coating of rust on them. Well, he couldn’t take any chances. Maybe he’d never seen a train because it only came by at two o’clock on a Saturday morning. Mindful of the neck injury patient in back, he braked slowly and carefully to a stop. He looked out in the moonlight, straining to see a train coming from either side of the track, but didn’t. Suddenly, he felt goose bumps rise on his skin. It felt almost like some animal was out there, stalking him. He could almost feel it. Then the darkness came……
The paramedic had been checking the respirator attached to the sleeping boy when he’d felt the ambulance slow and stop. He turned to talk to Bob through the partition and saw him slumped over the wheel, apparently unconscious. Had Bob had a seizure? A heart attack? A stroke? Was he even breathing? He grabbed his medical bag and went out the back door, running quickly around to the driver’s side where he’d pulled his friend from the vehicle. He felt quickly for a pulse …there, a good and strong one. He made sure Bob’s airway was open….then the darkness came……..