by Julie Solano
Jenna walks me over to Coach Hendryx, and takes off on her mission. A forty-five minute search, and a solid 50 Free later, Jenna returns to the Coach’s table. “Kait, there’s no sign of him. I looked everywhere. If he is here, he’s doing a darned good job of hiding. I even had Jake, Fisher, and Hadley helping me. The meet’s almost over. Let’s just stay here til it’s finished.”
Despite the fact that my search team turned up nothing, I can’t shake the weird feeling that I’m being watched. I know it’s probably just my overactive imagination, so I work exceptionally hard to block it out and focus on the upcoming events. The rest of the meet goes surprisingly well. We take first in our Medley Relay, winning a division patch, and third in our Free Relay, which is not too bad considering the level of competition. I end up placing first in my Fly and second in my Free, qualifying me for Masters in all four events. I’m ecstatic that our entire relay team gets to advance to Masters. We’ve worked so hard for this, and I’m ecstatic that we’ll be there together.
We celebrate the whole way back to school, singing, joking, storytelling, and dancing in our seats. The ride flies by with the after party that’s happening in the van. When we pull up at the school, it’s ten o’clock, and pitch black outside. The brisk fall breeze begins to kick up, and a chill works it’s way through me. I’m so glad I have my car here. I’d hate to have to wait for a ride on this dark, autumn night. I throw my stuff in the car, and check my phone before I head home.
Brody:
“Pip, are you home yet? We won!!! Thanks to you I caught the lucky one!!! I want to come over and see how it went for you.”
I grab my necklace remembering the luck we shared today. Brody is so thoughtful. I text him back before I pull out of the parking lot.
Me:
Leaving school right now. Be home in a few. Can’t wait to hear about your game and tell you about my meet!!!
I drive the three minutes up the street to my house, turn off my car lights, and open the door. I get out of the car and pull my gym bag to the front seat, fumbling through it as I work to find my house keys. There is no moon visible tonight, and the darkness of the street makes it darned near impossible to find them. I dig down below a layer of clothes, goggles, and hair ties, and finally feel the ring at the bottom of my bag. I wrap my fingers around the keys, when I feel myself being forcefully tugged away from the open car door. Panic fills me, when a hand covers my nose and mouth. I struggle to breathe. I start kicking and stomping my feet, trying to break loose of whoever has me in this tight hold. Panic shoots through me when I realize this isn’t Brody playing a trick on me. The hold is getting tighter, and it really hurts. A spike of adrenaline rushes through me, causing me to pick up my foot and slam it back into my attacker’s shin. “Owww, you Bitch!” cries the familiar voice.
Oh, hell . . . It’s Pistol. “I told you I’d be coming to see you! Now are you going to cooperate so I can let you breathe? No screaming; got it?”
Gasping for air that I can’t seem to find, I nod my head up and down. He finally removes his hand from my nose and mouth, and I strain to breathe. The air barely seeps in, overpowered by a fierce groaning sound. I’m so dizzy, that I can’t think straight.
“Look at me, Kait-lyn,” he yells.
I don’t respond. I’m just too dizzy. I bend down and put my hands on my knees, trying to regain my senses.
I feel hair rip from my scalp, and my neck pop, as he pulls my head up to face him. “I said look at me!” Pistol screams again.
As I look up at his face, I can feel the heat of prickling tears forming behind my eyes. I have never seen Pistol look this scary. His eyes are bloodshot and I can smell alcohol coming from his breath. He pulls me close, and angrily slurs, “I told you I miss you, Babydoll. Why haven’t you answered my texts?”
“Pistol, I’m not your Babydoll anymore,” I gasp.
I feel the sting of his fingers smack my face. It’s such an unexpected response, that I’m not prepared for the impact of his strong backhand against my lips. I feel warm liquid roll down the side of my mouth. I reach up to my face and wipe it away. I see blood smeared across the back of my hand, and know my tooth has gone through my lip. If I don’t get out of here now, this could get really bad.
Fear overtakes me and I gather enough courage to try to run. I make it about two feet when he catches my right arm and yanks me back to him.
Oh . . . My . . . God!
I hear a pop, and feel searing pain shoot from my shoulder, down my back and out to my fingers. I have never felt anything so excruciating in my life. Fighting not to pass out, I roll my head and look over at Pistol. He begins to blur, but I see his mouth moving in slow motion, “Ohhhh, Shhhhhit,” as he lets go of me. Ringing drowns out all sound, and blackness slowly closes in, until there’s . . . nothing.
I FEEL THE COOL, SOFT breeze blowing across my face as I strain to open my eyes. At first glance, my vision is a swirling kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. The incessant turning makes me slightly nauseous. As I squint my eyes to try and focus, I can feel the tension in the tightly stretched skin that covers my pounding forehead. I’m facing upward, and I can faintly identify the outline of falling leaves drifting across the evening sky. The distant streetlight has illuminated the night, just enough for me to recognize my neighborhood. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud as I move slowly beneath the streaks of stars. When the stabbing pain starts to make itself known, I come back to my body and recognize his smell, and the trembling arms cradling me. The buzzing in my ears slowly fades away, and I hear the whisper of Brody’s voice, “Please be okay Pip, be okay . . . It’s okay Pip, I’ve got you . . . Please be okay.”
I know Brody’s worried. I hear it in his voice. I struggle to lift my hand and touch his cheek. I let out a shriek from the pain that shoots through my injured shoulder. When he looks down, his eyes are glazed over in tears. I wipe the one I see rolling down his cheek, “I’m okay Brody. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
“Pip . . . I should’ve been there waiting for you when you pulled up. This is all my fault. You told me you were coming home. I shouldn’t have waited. I knew I left you alone too long today. I’m so sorry, Pip.”
“Brody, it’s not your fault,” I cry.
“I’m supposed to protect you, Pip. I promised,” Brody’s voice begins to shake as he kicks at my front door.
He can’t get the door open, and leans in to push the doorbell. He yells, “Open up guys . . . It’s Brody. I have Kaitlyn!” He continues to kick and yell.
I hear steps quickly approach the door, and it flies open. The first thing I see is Caden’s terrified face, “Oh my God Brody! What happened to my sister?”
“Call 911! I don’t know what’s happened . . . She was unconscious lying in the street when I found her. There was blood on the ground, coming out of her mouth. She just woke up!”
The agony from bouncing and jarring, has me slipping into another spell. I hear the ringing again, as blackness begins to circle in, covering my vision. I fight to maintain consciousness, but it’s no use. My body feels funny, almost tingly. My breathing slows. The voices become faint. The last thing I hear is my brother’s voice shouting, “Peyton get out here! Run upstairs and get my parents!” I’m fading away into that calm, peaceful darkness, where pain does not reside.
It’s late spring of seventh grade. We’re out in the valley at Mason Ranch visiting Brody’s cousin and grandparents for the weekend. It’s an unusually hot day. The sun is beating down, bees are buzzing around the freshly blooming flowers, and I can hear the chatter of the boys, as they work on finding something entertaining to do. Brody’s cousin, Mason, has a brilliant idea for a fun way to cool off. He wants to take the horses for a run through the alfalfa field that he’s irrigating. There are four of us, but only three shod horses. Caden instantly attaches himself to Smokey, and is hell bent on not riding double with me; especially since we’re riding bareback. After a brief argument with my brother, Brody offers to take me
with him on his favorite horse, Cheyenne.
“Hey, Pip Squeak, I was hoping you’d want to go with me anyway. Riding with your best friend is always better than riding alone.” He smiles down at me, making me feel like he’d have taken me even if there were four horses. “Follow me, and I’ll help you get on.” He hops up on Cheyenne, then tilts his head in the direction of the fence. We make our way across the lawn where he has me climb up to the top rung. As I balance with one hand and one foot, he brings the horse next to the fence, and reaches out toward me. “Let me give you a hand, Pip.” A strange tingly sensation shoots through my arm as he clutches my hand and pulls me around behind him. I don’t know where that feeling came from, but I’d never felt anything like it. “Hang on tight, Girl,” he chuckles, as he clicks his tongue and gives the horse a little kick. The sudden jolt has me grabbing on tightly, so I don’t fly off backward.
As we make our way across the road and over to the field, we pick up speed. The breeze blows my hair off of my shoulders. I have my arms wrapped tightly around Brody’s waist, as we trot through the spray of the water. Brody creates his own equestrian water park using the wheel lines. His timing is perfect, reigning Cheyenne in, so we run with the turning of the sprinklers. We laugh wildly as we rush through the water, slowing to wait for the next surge. Again, he kicks, making Cheyenne bolt through the next stream.
“This is the awesomest ride ever!” I giggle, pulling in closer, and resting my chin against Brody’s neck.
“You think so Pip? Wanna go faster?” He looks over his shoulder toward me.
“Let’s do it!” I squeal.
Without warning, Brody gives Cheyenne a sharp kick. My chin is still resting against him. I haven’t had enough time to readjust my hold for the intensity of the impending buck. Before I realize what’s happening, I feel myself somersaulting backwards over the horse’s hind end. Her coarse tail slaps my face, as I fall to the ground. There is a sharp pain in my knees and shoulders as I land on my head and come up on all fours in a puddle of mud. I raise my throbbing head, looking to see where I am. Suddenly, the air is punched from my lungs, and my upper chest burns with the fresh brand of Cheyenne’s hoof.
I see boots running toward me, as Brody bends down, “Pip, are you okay? I saw the horse kick.”
I think so, but this really hurts,” I say, peeling my tank top over to take a look at my quickly bruising flesh.
“Oh my Goodness Pip, I can see the print from the horseshoe under your collarbone!” As I’m looking down at my battle wound, I hear Caden approach.
“Caden, look at her shoulder. We should get help. Pip, are you okay?”
“Caden, look at her shoulder. We should get help. Pip, are you okay?” I hear Brody’s voice whispered in my ear. When I come back around, my parents are standing over the top of me. My mom is kneeling beside me, holding a washcloth on my forehead. My dad is fanning my face. “Kait?” I hear him say . . . “Kait? Can you hear me, Honey?”
“Daddy, my arm . . .” I cry, as another tear rolls down the side of my face. I focus on the warm liquid crawling slowly toward my ear. Brody’s hand comes up and wipes it away, just before it makes its way inside. “I felt it rip, and heard a pop.”
I turn my head toward my parents, and see my mom look up at my dad. I watch her lips move, “Her arm?” Then she turns to me. “Kaitlyn, you mean your head, right? How did you get that knot . . . and your lip . . . it’s swollen, and bleeding.”
The thought of Pistol backhanding me hard enough to send my tooth through my lip, has me crying again. I gasp for a breath before I try to speak. “It was so scary Mom. I couldn’t get help.” I begin shaking, as panic starts to kick in. Then I completely lose control of my emotions. “He was smothering me and I couldn’t breathe,” my voice trembles.
“Who Kaitlyn? Who did this to you?” my dad growls.
“Ppp . . .”
“Son of a Bitch!!!” Caden screams, cocking his arm back and throwing his bowl of popcorn like he’s trying to drill his wide receiver. As the plastic bowl bounces off the wall, popcorn scatters across the carpet. “I’m gonna kill that Bastard!”
I watch the veins grow in Brody’s neck as he yells back, “Not if I get to him first!”
I see my boys look at each other. Their fists are balled. Their breathing is rapid. “I’m out of here! Are you coming with me?” Caden shouts.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa . . .” My mom shakes her hand up and down three times like she’s trying to stop traffic. “Not so fast boys, we’re going to let the police handle this. Settle down . . . The ambulance will be here any minute. You need to be here for Kait right now. She’s in a lot of pain. Our first priority is to make sure she’s alright.”
There’s a knock at the door, and Peyton moves to open it. Within seconds, two E.M.T.’s step up to the couch. One holds a notepad, while the other kneels down in front of me. “Hi there. We’re here to make sure you’re okay. Can you tell me your name?”
“Kaitlyn,” I answer softly.
“Can you tell me what year it is?”
Sweat starts beading on my forehead. I can’t focus on the question. My stomach begins to turn, and my cheeks quiver. My mouth starts to water, when I gag out . . . “Ummm . . . I think I’m gonna throw up.”
Brody grabs the popcorn bowl from the floor and runs it to me. Instantly, my stomach begins to wretch, and I lose its contents in front of everyone.
“I know you’re trying to follow protocol here guys, but I think we need to stop with the questions and get her down to the hospital, now. She’s got a knot on her head, there was blood coming from her mouth when we found her, and now she’s throwing up.”
“It’s my shoulder Daddy . . . I don’t care about that head stuff,” I cry. “My arm hurts so bad, it’s making me sick.”
I can hear one of the E.M.T.’s on his radio letting the E.R. know that they’ll be bringing a patient into Entrance 3.
Within minutes, I’m up on the gurney, and being wheeled into the ambulance. My mom jumps in with me, and the doors quickly close behind her. The movement of the ambulance has my head spinning in circles. I close my eyes trying to block out the disorienting lights and movement. The sirens drown out the beeping equipment and scratchy voices that continue to blare over the radio. Thankfully, the noise and lights work together to chase the scary images of Pistol’s attack from my mind. Before I know it, the ambulance slows to a stop. The doors swing open, and Caden, Peyton, Brody, and my dad are standing at the back, waiting as I’m lowered out on the stretcher. I can’t believe they actually beat the ambulance to the hospital. In their haste, they haven’t even changed from their football and cheerleading uniforms.
I hear the sounds of pattering feet and rolling wheels rattling beneath me. I cringe at the jolting of my shoulder when the gurney crosses the threshold and makes its way in between the big glass doors on the way to the Emergency Room. The fluorescent lights glow along the expanse of the vast, white ceiling. The smell of the hospital crawls through my nose and ties my stomach into a new bundle of nerves. A low raspy voice speaks with the paramedics, “Based on your initial assessment, we’ve got the M.R.I. ready. Come with me guys.”
Walking alongside the gurney, the doctor goes over a series of questions with the E.M.T.’s. He finally looks down at me and begins to speak, “Kaitlyn, we’re going to take some pictures to see what’s going on inside of there that’s making you so sick. There’s pain in both your head and shoulder?” He questions.
I give a slight nod, not wanting to speak for fear I’ll throw up again.
“Have you ever had an M.R.I. before?” his brow crinkles, as he looks down at me to read my non-verbal response.
I shake my head no, envisioning the big, white space shuttle-like machine, I’ve seen on movies and documentaries.
“Are you claustrophobic at all?” he asks with hesitation.
“Just a little. Umm . . . I’m more worried I might puke in there. I’m not feeling so hot. Do you think we could hurr
y? I might be able to hold it just a little longer.”
We roll up to the M.R.I. and a team of nurses and other assistants work to carefully move me into the machine. They gingerly place my head on the neck rest and put a pillow under my knees. They tell me to stay really still and that they’re going to put headphones on me to help block out the loud noises. My mom gently holds my leg to let me know she’s right beside me.
“You about ready to go in, Kid?” the handsome young resident smiles reassuringly, as he wipes a tear from my cheek. “You’re gonna do just fine. Stay still and don’t be afraid.” His voice is calming, and helps ease my nerves as I feel the bed glide into the machine. I close my eyes and listen to the soft elevator music coming through the earphones. I try to stay still and not jump, but the stabbing pain shooting through my shoulder is becoming unbearable. Another tear rolls down my cheek into my ear, and I’m sad that Brody isn’t there to wipe it away like he did before.
It seems like hours have passed. I’m lying in a hospital bed surrounded by my family, Brody, and Peyton when the doctor comes in with his notepad. “So we’ve looked at the images from your M.R.I. Would you like me to have the kids step out before we discuss the results?”
“They can stay.” I yelp, before anyone else has a chance to answer.
The doctor glances up at my parents, as if to give them the final word. I can see my mom nod, yes, and he begins.
“Well, Kaitlyn, there are a couple of conditions you’re going to be dealing with over the next several weeks. We’ve stitched up your lip, and it shouldn’t scar too badly, but you’ve suffered a mild concussion from hitting your head on the ground when you fell. You’re going to have to be really careful to limit some of your activities, both physical and mental, until it heals. I’ll give you a complete list of your restrictions, but I’m going to tell you that it’s really important to stay away from any complex reading, texting, using the computer for longer than thirty minutes at a time, and listening to loud music. You need to stay calm and quiet.”
