Dead Man’s Philosophy: Chapter Two
Please enjoy the story.
I stepped forward.
My feet weighed a ton.
At the site of what looked like a ten point buck, I stopped in a state of introspective shock. His large head fretfully poked through the thicket of the forest. Slowly and inquisitively he stepped out. While watching his every movement, my breathing halted.
He studied the scene like a hound, his nose hovering the ground. Gracefully he lifted his large head to smell the air. Quickly his head snapped down in my direction. It seemed as though he had a thought for the first time in his life. He was looking in my direction for a minute or so, but saw nothing. He turned and walked towards your car with his powerful stride.
Every step he took was silenced by the snow.
Car lights were approaching quickly. My mind was silent. I knew I couldn’t do anything. I saw the buck’s head was down. He looked up once the car breaks squealed. The driver, obviously panicked, slid right into the buck. The buck broke through the front windshield, antlers first, piercing the driver through the skull and chest. The face of the driver bent inwards and blood spray-painted the shattered glass.
The impact, coupled with the weight of the buck, was enough to maneuver the car a few inches from yours: fortunately. The car ended up hurtling into the ravine on the other side of the street. The buck hung immobile from the front windshield of the car that was tilted to the passenger side like the leaning tower of Pisa. Like a red waterfall, the driver’s blood poured to the ground.
I knew I couldn’t save anyone’s life, adding to my overall apathy. Everything seemed like a dream. Thick grey clouds ascended from the asphalt into the sky, blurring whatever light there was. The moon, however, splintered a small section of smoke and clouds. It illuminated the snow creating a dark, eerie blue. Yet this color was beautiful and calming. Somehow beauty found its way in despite tragedy.
You, my love, taught me to find beauty in tragedy. You would have been proud.
On top of that there was another positive among tragedy, the buck bought me time to see you. I scanned the scene again. More smoke was pillaring into the air. A fire still burned with a subtle crackle. I turned to look at the fire to see the same thought I always have. Embers were pirouetting, spinning, and darting through the air like our girls or boys would if they were dancing or playing sports.
My imagination ran wild.
The snow dramatically paused.
I looked and I saw what seemed like movement from your car. Your long beautiful hair was blowing in the wind. A piece of glass fell from the driver’s side window shattering as it met the pavement. Your eyes looked up while reaching your left hand out to me in an attempt to cry for help. Your face looked as if a jaguar had attacked you. Skin split and peeling back reveled bone. Your hand was mangled. Tears began to pour down my face as I stood still, unable to move. Nothing mattered, but you.
Now, in what could be your final moments, you needed me most. But instead I watched you shiver from the cold.
Death stood by me now. Death, in his long ripped black hooded cloak, watched with me as you cried out in my direction. Your hand, still extended, quivered and dropped in a rhythmic pattern, almost like an EKG. It showed how weak you were becoming as you were crying out sounds of gargling.
Your hand finally fell to the ground. Tears streamed from your eyes and blood from your mouth. Death seemed upset I did nothing. For the first time you needed me and I could not move.
You were looking my way with your beautiful, serene face. Your crying had seized. It looked as though you saw me.
The snow began falling again.
Death had disappeared and I have not moved. My eyes were fixated on you. I merely trailed off. The buck’s hooves touched the ground. Like a switch flipped to on the buck began thrashing. The drivers face and torso was ripped apart. Blood from the buck and driver were being thrown all over the snow. The driver’s body and face looked like a Picasso painting. Eventually the buck broke free and its adrenaline allowed it to stand tall one last time. The buck was impaled with a large piece of glass. Finally the buck collapsed to the ground to rest peacefully in a pool of oil and its own, and the driver’s, blood.
Life truly begins and ends in a flash. Our lives are fragile. We could die at any moment from anything.
I needed to walk to your side. I needed to see if you were okay. But something inside me said there was no point, wait for the police and ambulance to get here. My sense of urgency was becoming non-existent again. You are the woman I love.
So, I said again, “Be the first person she sees in the darkest time of her life. Be her light when darkness seems to be all that is left. Be her touch of healing when pain is all that is felt.”
Again my nerves fired through my body and down to my feet.