When I saw her for the first time I was sitting on a bus bench waiting for my ride to work. It was my first day riding the bus to work. A drunk had totaled my car the day before and I was without wheels for the day. She was walking towards me on the sidewalk. I looked because I heard her heels clacking on the sidewalk.
What I saw should have dropped my mouth open. My training in my parent's home stopped that from happening. Their training didn't stop my thoughts. The way she walked was what I would call a strut. She was wearing a teal dress that was the picture of summer. It flared out from her small waist and left her legs uncovered from mid-thigh down to the teal high heel sandals clacking on the sidewalk. At her waist the dress held to her waist by a shiny metal belt. Above the belt the dress held close to her body up to her barely covered breasts. Her upper chest was bare, showing a bit of cleavage and three thousand freckles covering all the exposed skin up to her shoulder length strawberry blond hair.
I memorized everything about her as she walked, until I heard another noise. I heard the squeal of car brakes! My vision widened and I saw the M7 BMW climb the curb and head for her! The driver looked scared to death and before I could even yell, the BMW hit her from behind. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. I saw the bumper hit the back of her calves, cut her legs from under her, tossing her up on the bonnet. Her butt hit the junction of the bonnet and the windscreen and that slammed her upper body back and her head hit the top of the windscreen frame. The windscreen shattered and the car slammed into the building next to the sidewalk.
Before thinking, I ran to the car, noticing blood coming from the back of the woman's head and the broken legs hanging beneath the dress. When I was closer I saw that the driver had slammed his head into the steering wheel and was unconscious. Blood was dripping off his nose.
I called 911 and told the operator what had happened. I was told not to touch either person and the EMT's would be there soon. As I hit the end button I heard the loud approach of the EMT van. In seconds they were all over the situation, working on both injured people. About a minute later a police car arrived and two uniformed officers began taping off the scene and interviewing the three people who saw what had happened. I told my story to Officer McMillan and then to a detective in a tweed jacket a while later. I listened as one of the uniforms called in on his radio. The driver was a Thomas Jenkins, 15, and the car he was driving was registered to a Mrs. Estelle Jenkins. The woman in teal was Jennifer Olsen, unmarried, 28, being transported to Harbor UCLA Hospital.
The interviewing detective wanted to call my boss and get me a paid day off. Since I work for myself it wasn't necessary. He gave me a ride to the station house and videoed my statement. The detective was really a good guy. He called my insurance guy for me and got the agent to get me a car. He took me to the rental agency.
I drove that car to Harbor UCLA Hospital. I said I was Jimmy Olsen, Jennifer's brother. Jimmy was the first name that popped into my head. The receptionist didn't think about Superman or, if she did, she thought I had strange parents. She told me to go up to the third floor and a doctor would come talk to me.
An hour later a doctor in blue scrubs did come see me. He told me my sister had bruised some of her back and butt, broken both legs below the knees, and had a concussion. She had been in surgery and was in recovery. He said she would have a couple nasty scars on her legs but all in all she would fully recover.
As he got up to leave he said I could see her in an hour. A nurse would come get me.
For the hour I thought about what I would say to her. She wasn't my sister. As I thought about what to say to her without her thinking I was some crazy man the hour passed and I found myself following a nurse down the hall to Jennifer's room. The nurse didn't come into the room, she just said, "She's in here," tapped the door and kept walking.
I opened the door and stepped inside. She was half sitting in the bed, meaning it was cranked so she was elevated from her waist up. Her plaster encased legs were elevated with just her toes showing. Everything was white. The pillows, the sheets, the blankets, and the room were white. Her blond hair spread out on the pillow. Her eyes were closed.
I sat in the chair. I kept looking at her, feeling like a peeping tom. I had no business being in her room. I had no idea what I would say when she woke up.
She woke up. She scanned the room and when her eyes met mine she looked at me as if she expected me to be there.
Her voice was very soft, almost a whisper. "I thought it might be you."
"Hi. I know I don't belong here but... here I am. I'm Nick. I told the nurse downstairs I was your brother, Jimmy Olsen. Is there anyone I can notify that you're in the hospital?"
"You mean my husband, boyfriend, brother, mom and dad? No."
"Pardon me for saying it but that's hard to believe."
"Why?"
"I would think someone who looks like you would have a husband or a boyfriend close at hand."
"Oh, I did. I even had a sister, until this morning."
"Oh my God! What happened to her?"
"She was fucked this morning and last night by my boyfriend. Sorry. My ex-boyfriend, Mike."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"So am I but, as someone says, that's water under the bridge. Time to move on."
"Is that where you were going this morning, moving on?"
"No. I was on my way to the harbor so I could drown myself."
"But..."
"But what?"
"Well, you looked so confident as you walked towards me. You looked like someone who has their life together."
"That may be what you saw but that wasn't and isn't me. I have a dress, the heels I was wearing and a purse with about sixty-five dollars in it. Now I have no dress, no heels, twenty pounds of plaster on my legs and the doctor says I need to be off my feet for six to eight weeks." She took a big breath, "My life is shit."