by J. Bengtsson
To…Chad.
I whipped my head around. Oh god, how could I have forgotten he was here with me in this wasteland? My eyes darted from side to side. Where was his car? Had he somehow gotten away? And then I saw it… or what was left of it, flattened under mounds of concrete. The plank that had cut my car in two had also crushed his, only it had come to rest vertically—on top of a second beam that had fallen horizontally across the cab of his vehicle. I swallowed back a sob as I realized that no one could have survived that. He was gone, entombed under the intersecting planks that had fallen in the form of a cross to lie on top of what was now Chad’s grave.
Shock. Horror. Every emotion grabbed hold as I slowly realized what I’d lost. Chad wasn’t just the man I loved to hate. He was also the man I actually sorta didn’t hate. There—I admitted it. It had taken this disaster to make me realize that I’d spent countless hours of my life obsessing over Chad for the same reason little elementary school girls the world over called boys names on the playground—I had a crush. Chad was the real reason I couldn’t connect with Jeremy. The brawny jerk had hijacked my mind. At work. At play. At sleep. Chad was everywhere. And as much as I tried to resist the icky attraction, I couldn’t.
And now he was gone, buried under a pile of rubble. Tears welled as I tried to comprehend the loss. Twenty seconds was all it had taken to end his life, and now I’d never bicker with him again. I’d never instigate a knocking war on our shared wall or communicate with him through Post-it Notes. I’d never spy on his half-naked body through the sliding glass door or fantasize about those powerful arms pushing me up against the shower wall. If only I’d known how little time we had left, I would’ve treated those last minutes with more respect.
I dropped my head to my hands and cried for Chad. For me. For the sex-fueled life we’d never lead. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.
“Dani?”
My lips parted in surprise. It couldn’t be. I’d seen his car. He couldn’t possibly have survived. But when he repeated my name, there was no doubt. That raspy voice, beset with pain, belonged to Chad.
Still, my brain could not compute. “Chad?”
There was a pause before he answered with his typical bluster. “Who else would it be?”
Oh, my god. Even in this life-or-death situation, Chad was being… a dick? If that didn’t prove beyond any reasonable doubt that my tough-as-nails neighbor-crush had somehow survived the unsurvivable, I didn’t know what would.
“You’re alive?” I asked, confirming the obvious.
“Would I be talking to you if I were dead?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, falling right back into our comfortable mockery. “Maybe you’re a ghost.”
“No offense, Dani, but if I was a ghost, I sure as hell wouldn’t be spending eternity with you.”
“And, yet, for the last five months, I’ve been doing just that.”
I waited for Chad’s snappy reply. But he remained silent, which was not like him at all. He never missed a chance to volley. Something was wrong. No way would my surly neighbor waste a return of serve.
“Chad?”
“I’m here,” he replied, but the sound came out more like a groan.
“Are you hurt?” I questioned, knowing immediately I’d asked the obvious. Of course he was hurt. No one could survive what he’d survived without injury.
“Well, let’s put it this way. I’m not dead yet, but by the looks of it, you’ll get your wish in a few minutes.”
My wish? The hundreds of times I’d threatened his life had all been in jest. Those were the words of a frustrated girl with no other recourse against his force of nature.
“I don’t want you to die, Chad,” I said, maybe the first bit of honesty I’d ever spoken to him. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I know that,” he replied, with possibly the first bit of honesty he’d ever spoken to me.
“Tell me what’s happening to you,” I urged.
“Look for yourself.”
“I can’t see into your car. I don’t even know how you survived that.”
“I survived because I wasn’t in my car.”
“You weren’t? Where were you then?”
“I was coming for you, Dani.”
I let those words percolate in my brain for a second. My neighbor, the one who’d accused me of stealing, who’d stolen my parking spot, and who’d commandeered my thoughts at all hours of the day—and night—had been coming for me. Chad’s face hadn’t been a thought in my mind when I believed I was about to die. He’d actually been there, racing toward me, trying to save my life.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I have my moments.”
“Wait—you can see me?”
“I’m right here.”
I scanned the barren landscape but didn’t see him.
“Look down.”
Down? I stuck my head out of the missing window and there, about three feet from my car, was Chad, covered in grime and buried up to his shoulder blades in rubble. I gasped.
“Yeah,” he said, pain etching lines across his sullen face. “That was my first reaction too.”
I wanted to say something, anything, to make the situation better for him, but there was no silver lining. Chad was in serious trouble.
“Chad…” I began, my voice steeped in sympathy.
“Don’t,” he stopped me. “I know it’s bad. I don’t need your pity.”
He was right. That wasn’t how we worked. We’d never shown each other mercy before, so why start now? Our dysfunction made us stronger, and Chad needed that strength now. If he wanted ‘normal,’ I’d give him normal—starting with an insult. “I’ve been pitying you since the day we met, dude. So why stop now?”
He attempted a chuckle, but the pain proved a worthy adversary. I watched him clench his jaw as he drew in a shaky breath.
Now there was nothing but sincerity in my reply. “I’m coming, Chad. Breathe slow and steady. I’m going to get you out of there. I promise.”
And I meant it. Taking my own deep breath, I reached for my phone, only to realize it wasn’t where I’d left it in the cupholder. In fact, the cupholder wasn’t where I’d left it either. Both had, no doubt, blasted off like rockets when the beam cut my car in two. I searched the area around me for my cell with no luck. It was gone, and so was any hope of a coordinated rescue. It was up to me now.
God help us all.
“Not to dampen your optimism,” he said, before proceeding to do just that, “but unless you have a bulldozer in your pocket, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hey, check the doom and gloom, bud. I manage to Velcro and tie twenty-five first graders’ shoes every day and still get them out to recess on time. I think I can dig one asshole out of a dirt hole.”
“You’re. A. Teacher?” he asked, every word punctuated with disbelief.
“Don’t sound so surprised. What did you think I did for a living?”
“Well, I’d narrowed it down to a few contenders, with the top one being agent of Satan.”
I laughed, relieved he had the energy to insult. That meant I still had time—but how much, I wasn’t sure. Unhooking the seatbelt holding me suspended in place, I tried to ready my feet for the impact, but gravity took hold before I could steady myself, and I tumbled to the ground. I let out a cry of pain as a raised red abrasion instantly sprang up on my knee.
“Ouch. Dammit,” I pouted.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I miscalculated,” I replied, pushing myself back onto my feet with my one good arm. “I’ll live.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Enough with the negativity, Chad. Don’t make me come over there and slap you.”
“Not trying to be negative, Dani,” Chad said, puffing out the words. “I’m actually having trouble breathing. The pressure on my chest is insane.”
There was no snark left in my neighbor. His life was hanging in the balance, and he knew it. I had to get to him.
“Just focus on my voice. I’m on my way. I can’t get out the driver side door, so I need to climb over the mountain of concrete in front of my car. It’ll just take me a minute, and then I’ll start digging you out.”
He didn’t respond, his silence an ominous predictor of his decline.
“Chad, don’t fall asleep.”
“I’m sorry, Dani.”
His voice sounded defeated—done. I had to keep him talking.
“For what—stealing my parking spot?”
“No, I stand by that. Parking’s a bitch in this garage.”
I smiled to myself. He needed to work on his apologies. “Are you sorry for accusing me of stealing your package?”
“Yes, I am actually sorry for that.”
“Oh, well, that’s a start.”
“Apparently it was delivered to the wrong floor. The neighbor lady below us brought the package up this afternoon.”
I stopped, a frown forming. “You’re a piece of work, dude.”
“Don’t I know it. Look, I’m going to be honest with you—and please don’t get used to it—but I’ve been going through a rough time the last few months, feeling sorry for myself. I took it out on you, and that was a crappy thing to do. I wanted to say I’m sorry now, just in case, you know, I don’t make it.”
“Stop it, Chad. I don’t want your apology. Don’t assume you’re the only player in this dysfunctional relationship of ours. You realize I sometimes make stuff up just to start a fight with you, right?”
“I knew it,” he chuckled, his voice cutting out toward the end. I could hear him weakening with every passing second.
I squeezed around the toppled beam and got my first close-up look at what Chad was dealing with…what I was about to deal with. And it wasn’t good. Chad wasn’t just buried in crumbled concrete and dust; he had actual cinder blocks holding him down.
“I’m here,” I said, crouching down to eye level.
“Can you please not make that face?” he said, wincing. “I’m already freaked out.”
“Sorry,” I replied, heaving the smallest solid chunks of concrete off of him as I fought back a sudden onset of tears. Not here. Not now. My sorrow was the last thing he needed, so I swallowed the emotion and adopted a grimace. “Got my game face on now.”
“Much better.”
“Let’s start over,” I said, forcing a smile. “Hi, I’m Dani, and I’ll be your hero for the day.”
Chad managed a half-cocked smile. “Not that I’m dissing your superpowers, but you wouldn’t by chance have a phone handy to call 9-1-1, would you?”
I shook my head. “I wish. You?”
“No. My best guess is it’s somewhere near the earth’s core by now.”
I followed his eyes downward. Yeah, there was no phone. This was going to be a one-woman operation… and there was no time to waste. I continued with the rescue proceedings by creating a small pocket of wiggle room behind him, an area for him to lean away from the weight of the concrete boulders that were too heavy for me to move with one arm. With some of the pressure relieved, Chad dragged in deep, life-saving breaths, his first ones since the walls came crashing down.
Before we could celebrate that small step forward, an angry fault line conspired to take us two steps back. The ground rumbled.
Aftershock.
Chad and I locked eyes, and I knew before he spoke what he was going to say.
“Go!” he insisted. “Get out of here!”
He was right. I should go. This was my life we were talking about. But what about Chad? I couldn’t just leave him to face his fate alone. With the earth quivering ruthlessly below us, I flung myself over him and together we rode out the lingering remnants of the half-hearted quake.
When it was over, I lifted my head and cautiously looked around. Everything had pretty much remained where it had fallen in the previous quake, even the assembly of concrete stacked pick-up-stick-style in front of him.
“Okay, well…that earthquake was a bit of a pussy, wouldn’t you say?”
He shook his head, not appreciating my workplace humor. “You never listen, do you?”
“Seems like we established that fact long ago. Besides, I could say the same thing about you.”
“I’m serious, Dani,” he said. “If you don’t go now, you’re going to die in here…right beside me.”
Like I didn’t understand the risks. I knew what I was doing, and no one got to decide my fate but me…and maybe that bitch Mother Nature. “Sure, Chad. I’m going to die. You’re going to die. But neither one of us is going to die today.”
That silenced my quake date.
“Let me hear you say it, Chad. ‘Dani is my hero.’”
Never had he repeated back one of my lines correctly, and I didn’t expect it of him today either.
“Dani is my hero,” he said without an ounce of mockery.
Well, I’ll be damned. Miracles did happen. I smiled, liking the sound of his submission. Victory at last.
Chad clenched his eyes shut as he let out a slow breath.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked.
“Uh… it hurts to breathe. A lot of pain in my chest.”
Not what I wanted to hear, but it did motivate me to dig faster, and not long after amplifying my efforts, I touched skin, making us both jump. “Is that what I think it is?”
“No,” he answered, straight-faced. “Just my arm.”
“Oh.” I laughed. “Making funnies now, I see.”
He smiled, his face registering the first real signs of hope. I doubled down then, wanting to see more of that faith in his eyes. Unfortunately, the excavation wasn’t nearly as agreeable to the shard of glass still wedged inside my arm. With every movement, excruciating pain shot all the way to my fingertips. But the discomfort was all worth it when Chad’s arm finally emerged from the earth… and he used it to hug me.
Both stunned and flattered, I slung my good arm around one of his broad shoulders and hung on tight. I half expected him to squirm away like a skittish cat, but Chad seemed to be in no hurry to let go. Although, to be fair, he was trapped in a hole in the earth. It wasn’t like he could get away from my public display of affection. He turned his head, his soft breath whispering into my ear, “You’re my hero, Dani.”
Okay, I was in love. No, seriously. If we both survived, I’d be stalking the shit out of his ass.
When we finally broke apart, things were different between us. We were no longer warring neighbors. Now we were full-fledged colleagues. And working as a team, things moved faster, with his added arm strength helping to topple the concrete holding him in place. Within minutes, we not only had his other arm free but we’d also dug Chad out to his waist. And then to his thighs and to his knees. We were so close now. Just a little bit more and he would be free.
“Hey,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence. I looked up to find his long-lashed blue eyes ringed in red. His words splintered as he spoke. “Just so you know, I’m not going to forget this. What you did for me…”
“You would have done the same for me.”
“I would’ve tried,” he said, holding my gaze. “But I’m no you.”
“No, that’s true.” I grinned, loving this newfound side of Chad Woodcock.
“When we get out of here, I’m going to make it up to you in a big way.”
“Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?” I asked, blowing the hair from my eyes as I continued my digging.
“By buying you whatever you want.”
It was a weird thing for him to say. He lived next door to me, so clearly, Chad wasn’t bathing in cash. Conrad was right. I knew nothing about this guy. I wasn’t even sure if he worked. Did he have family? Friends? No one came to visit him…ever. I studied him now, getting perhaps my first full and unobstructed view of his shaggy face, and to my surprise, he looked oddly familiar. Not the neighbor-next-door familiar either. There was something about him…
“Oh, okay.” I chuckled, pointing
to my mangled car. “How ’bout we start with that?”
“Done.”
My eyes widened. “Done? Just like that? You’re going to buy me a car?”
“That’s right.”
“With what money? Do you have a trust fund that doesn’t mature until you’re thirty or something?”
“No, I’m a self-made millionaire.”
I scoffed. More like self-made working-class poor, if you asked me. But what struck me about Chad was how effortlessly he could lie. All right, fine, I’d take the bait. “Wow, Chad, I had no idea I was living next door to such a big shot.”
“That’s right.” He grinned.
Our eyes met. Even entombed, Chad was so full of shit. “Okay, Moneybags. Since you’re waving your make-believe cash around, I’ll take one of those new Broncos in steel-blue please.”
“Two or four doors?” he asked, acting as if this little fantasy of ours was reality.
“Hmm…” I smiled. “What the heck, let’s make it a four.”
“Sounds good. Four-door it is.”
I glanced up, smiling at our little game, but surprised to find him not returning the gesture. I stopped digging, confused by our conversation, but before I could question him further, Chad grabbed my wrist, and I could see the color drain from his face.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s stuck.”
“What do you mean, its stuck?”
“My ankle.”
Crouched down into the hole we’d dug, Chad swept away a layer of dust to reveal a concrete slab pressing down on his ankle and completely enveloping his foot. Chad frantically tried pulling his leg free, but it didn’t budge. These weren’t the manageably sized cinder blocks we’d been steadily removing either; this was a giant chunk of concrete and mangled rebar.
I dug deeper, trying to see how far it stretched and if I could dig him out from behind. But it was no use, his foot was locked in a clamp.
“What about your right leg?”
