Just Like Heaven

by Steven Slavick

  A door slammed shut, snapping him back to the situation at hand. Opposite him, he saw a pair of work boots, indicating that the driver had jumped out of the truck, hit the ground and raced around the front of the vehicle toward him. Nick took a few breaths to clear his head, planted his palms against the ground, and pushed himself backwards, out from under the truck.

  “Hey, lemme help you,” a man said from behind him.

  The man slid his hands under Nick’s armpits and pulled him away from the truck. As soon as his legs cleared the vehicle, Nick had the insatiable urge to attend to Nina. Looking at her body, which lay face down, he now noticed that he hadn’t seen any indication that she’d survived the accident: he didn’t see a muscle twitch or didn’t see the rise and fall of her chest or shoulders, which would signify that she’d taken a breath.

  And because he’d never felt a connection with any other woman that compared to the one he’d briefly felt while talking with Nina, he needed to find out if she would be okay. The idea of living out his days knowing that he’d failed to save her would torture him.

  After the driver let go of him, Nick bolted forward, crawling towards Nina, his knees bashing into the blacktop with each agonizing blow.

  He came upon her and grasped both shoulders then tilted her body over. The right side of her face, her nose, and her forehead were smudged with dirt. He checked her out and, detecting no blood, let out a sigh of relief. It occurred to him that he hadn’t even looked himself over. But considering that he hadn’t felt any pain, he figured that he’d escaped major damage, while adrenaline may have dulled the results of any bumps and bruises.

  Nick knelt down, tucked his hands under Nina’s arms, and heaved himself backwards, yanking her toward the sidewalk. Since he pulled “dead” weight, meaning that Nina couldn’t assist him in his efforts, the muscles in his arms and legs shook from the effort. When her body cleared the truck, Nick cradled the back of her head with one hand and used the other to gently lay her down onto the sidewalk.

  He placed a finger against her neck and searched for her pulse.

  He didn’t find one.

  What could have caused the equivalent of a heart attack in such a young woman? He placed one hand over the other, pressed the heal of his palm into Nina’s sternum, and performed CPR in hopes of jumpstarting her heart. Hearing the driver explain what had happened, Nick presumed the man now spoke with a police dispatcher. Through peripheral vision, he noticed a dozen people circling him, but he refused to let his concentration waver. He focused on Nina. Nothing else mattered.

  His heart beat with tremendous force and sweat broke out on his brow. Although he heaved for air, he didn’t say one word, because doing so would waste air, and he needed every last bit of energy to continue the rhythm in which he pumped down on Nina’s chest. After thirty beats, he used two fingers to plug Nina’s nostrils, and blew into her mouth. He waited a moment and blew more air into her lungs. Then he went back to work on her chest again.

  “The paramedics are a minute away,” said the man behind him.

  To Nick, it seemed like he’d been pressing down on Nina’s chest for at least ten minutes. But his fright, along with his own shock incurred from the accident, and a throttling heartbeat only lent this impression. Still, he continued: pumping thirty times, breathing into Nina’s mouth, pumping thirty times, breathing into Nina’s mouth. And after what seemed like an eternity, he heard sirens off in the distance, but as each elongated second passed, the shrill sound grew closer, until the siren seemed to be right beside him.

  Then two paramedics bent down next to him holding a defibrillator. Although Nick heard them talking to him, he couldn’t decipher what they said. He only knew that they wanted him to relinquish his efforts and give them some space, so that they could better attend to Nina. He backed away.

  One paramedic tore Nina’s blouse open, and the other applied two pads on her chest.

  The defibrillator beeped.

  “Clear.”

  A second later, the mechanism shocked Nina’s body, causing her chest to lurch forward, lifting her back off the ground.

  Her eyes popped open wide, and she took in a breath. Then she snatched another breath, unblinking.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Nick asked, approaching them.

  “She’s coming to,” the paramedic said with a smile in his voice that sounded as though he didn’t expect Nina’s heart to respond to the electrical charge.

  Nick hovered over them, feeling a paramedic holding out an arm that pressed into his chest, preventing him from getting any closer.

  Nina blinked and took another breath. She glanced around, as though wondering why she lay on the ground with two paramedics hovering over her.

  Nick let out a heap of air. His shoulders sagged inward. All of the pent up energy that had rushed through him now disintegrated, leaving him weak.

  Those around him clapped and cheered.

  The applause made Nick think that he’d recently heard a large crowd doing likewise, but since he couldn’t recall where or when, he let that sensation pass. As the paramedics continued to attend to Nina, Nick saw her head tip to the side, her gaze taking him in.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He wanted to get closer. He wanted to touch her. But he couldn’t explain why. After all, he’d only spoken to her for ten minutes. What gave him the impression that she wouldn’t scream if he responded that way? Nevertheless, she looked at him with an unwavering expression that told him they were connected by…something indescribable, something beyond words. But while that mysterious explanation escaped him, Nick didn’t let it consume his mind.

  Nina revealed a sweet smile. “It’s so wonderful.”

  The paramedic lowered his arm from Nick’s chest, which allowed him to move closer to her. “What? I don’t understand.”

  She opened her palm.

  The portrait of Nina drifted out of her grasp, and Nick caught the crumbled page. Although Nina noticed the resemblance between her appearance and that of the portrait, Nick had been upset that he failed to capture her essence on the page. But a vision (although it seemed more like a memory) flashed in his mind; he stood in front of a portrait that he’d sketched of Nina, and it had mirrored the spirit with which he now looked at her. That small glance into the unknown gave him the direction needed to finalize a figure in his landscape piece, which he hoped would provide the artistic breakthrough he’d waited for his entire career.

  Even more than that, however, looking into Nina’s eyes made him realize that he was on the verge of another breakthrough, one that veered into his personal life, one that might finally mend the hole that hadn’t been filled since losing his family, one that would allow him to feel the happiness that had so long eluded him.

  Something encouraged him to take her hand in his own and press his lips to it.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, maintaining her smile.

  And even though he didn’t know why she said these words, he understood them, and he found himself saying something just as puzzling, “I’ve missed you, too.”