“Okay. Maybe. Maybe not. But I know I was mad when my parents died. ”
Bailey picks up a rock and throws it out into the trickling water before she turns to look at me. “You think you know me now?”
“No. I know what you’re going through, though. When my parents died, I was angry for a long time. After the anger subsided, then I was sad and broken for even longer.”
She turns her attention from me back to the creek. “What happened to them?”
“A fire. I was angry at the fire department for not getting there in time. I was angry with God for taking them from me. I was angry with the neighbors for holding me back. Maybe if they had let me go, I could have caught my dad. I might have been able to save his life. But mostly I was angry at myself…” I say, trailing off.
“Why? Did you start the fire?” she asks.
“No. My mom was already outside when my dad came back into the house for me. I didn’t know what was going on at first. I was scared… really scared. I did not want to climb out the window, and argued with my dad about it. I can only assume that, because it was taking us so long, that was the reason my mom went back in the house.” I take a deep breath and beg myself not to break down. “My dad and I finally made it out, only to find that my mother had gone back in after us.” My pleas echo in my ears as I recall how I screamed for him not to leave me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as I try to repress the memories. “He went back in after her and neither one of them ever came back out.” Pain spears my heart as I remember that fateful night that changed my life. The tears spill over and glide down my face as my body convulses from my silent sobs.
We sit there on the soft grass for a while, neither of us saying a word. The sounds of the water below washing over the rocks and lapping against the creek’s edge surround us. I run my fingers through the soft blades of the grass; the sensation calms my thoughts. Bailey’s soft voice breaks through the silence and pulls me back to the present.
“Trent, my brother, was hit by a drunk driver. We both were.” I have my eyes trained solely on her. She’s looking out at the water, her face impassive. “My mom and dad had gone out to do some shopping. They were taking forever, so I literally begged my brother to take me to get some ice cream. He kept telling me no, but I knew how to get him to do almost anything I wanted.” A ghost of a smile appears on her face. As fast as it appears, it’s gone.
“Trent kept saying ‘No Bailey. I can’t take you. I have homework. You have homework,’ but I was already done, and I pointed that out to him. ‘Come on Bailey, I really don’t want to go anywhere. Why don’t you just wait until Mom gets here and have her take you?’” she says using a deep male voice, mimicking her brother.
“Then I turned on the charm, and he fell for it hook-line-and-sinker. ‘Why would I want Mom to take me? I have the most awesome big brother in the world. Plus, I don’t wanna ride in Mom’s van. It’ll cramp my style.’ He laughed when I said that.”
“‘What style? You’re twelve.’”
“‘First off, I have a style, and it screams my brother’s brand new Camaro. And secondly, if I run into anyone from school and they see me in the van, it’ll be talked about for ages. My friends will disown me. No one will ever want to talk to me again. I’ll go into high school known as the girl whose Mom drives a tie-dyed van.’”
“When I threw my arms up over my head and looked at him with a why-isn’t-this-obvious-to-you-look, he finally agreed. ‘Okay, I see your point.’”
The corners of my lips pull up as I sit here completely enraptured in Bailey memories of her brother.
“Finally, we left. Trent and I were in the car, jamming out to Green Day. We were stopped at a red light. He drummed his hands against the steering wheel like a drummer, banging his head back and forth, while I played the air guitar. The whole time we were laughing hysterically,” she says with a wistful smile. “He had just pressed on the gas when, all of a sudden, my body was thrown into the passenger door, and my head slammed against the window. I screamed. ‘Trent! Trent! Help me!’”
“‘Hold on Bailey! Hold on!’ He screamed. The sounds of glass shattering blended with our screams. I don’t know how long we slid across the street before the car rolled and tumbled down an embankment into a shallow creek. We never even saw it coming,” she whispers.
I scoot over next to Bailey and wrap my arms around her. Her fragile frame shudders underneath my hold as she cries. “When I realized it was finally over, we were both hanging upside down. Our seat belts were the only things that held us in place. My whole body ached, throbbed, and screamed in pain, but it all seemed to vanish when I looked over and saw my brother. Blood trailed down his face and dripped onto the roof of the car. His eyes were closed, and I didn’t know what to think. I sat there, frozen in shock and horror. I had no clue what to do. Finally, I whispered his name. ‘Trent? Trent? Trent, wake up.’ He didn’t move, so I said it again louder a second time. When I saw his eyes barely open, I started crying, thankful he was finally coming around. He looked me in the eyes and began to cough. Dark red blood spewed out of his mouth as his hand found mine, and he squeezed it. When he spoke in between coughs, all he said was, ‘I’m so sorry, Bailey. I love you.’ Then his eyes fluttered closed and I knew. I knew he was gone. It was like my whole life stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything for him. I screamed at the tops of my lungs and yanked on seat belt as I tried to get free, but it wouldn’t give. My hands balled into fists as I beat on the roof of the car. I wanted to get someone’s attention, anyone’s attention, so they could help save my brother. I don’t know how long I hung there beating on the car and screaming for help. I’m told that I passed out from so much blood rushing to my head. I woke to the sounds of grinding, and something cutting through metal. And just like that, the gut wrenching screams started all over again. I screamed for anyone and everyone to help Trent.”