Frozen Chapter 3
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Submitted on: 2008/06/25
Rating: 0/5 with 257 views
Tim finished cleaning the garage and looked at his watch. "Nine forty-five," he muttered. "That gives me another hour until I have to leave for work." He stumbled back into his house, fell up the stairs and crawled towards his bedroom. The intoxication made it difficult to find the keys in the dead cable man's pants, but eventually he found them. He snooped through the dead man's wallet finding two visa cards and eighty dollars in cash. There were pictures of children, two young girls and a boy. Waves of guilt shot through Tim as he realized he killed these children's father.
They deserved their fate, I shouldn't be feeling guilty, Tim thought, denying any blame. He searched the second pair of pants and found two pairs of keys, a wallet and a cell phone. He opened the phone and saw there were forty-three missed calls. This guy sure is popular, he thought. If I was missing I'm sure no one would be looking for me.
All he found in the second wallet was twenty-one dollars, and no credit cards. "Cheap bastard," he said out loud, before pocketing the money. Somehow, he stood up, and went back into the garage without falling. Opening the garage filled Tim's eyes with rays of sunlight. The roads were speckled with puddles. The sun's return made Tim happy.
After the van was hidden in the garage, he went back into the house and opened his fridge. There was four bottles of beer left, so he decided to make it three; then two; then one. By the time Tim finished his fourth beer he was completely drunk, bringing the grand total of beer drinking that night to twenty-four bottles.
He went into the bathroom, took off all his clothes and stepped into a hot shower, feeling slightly refreshed. After he was done, he wobbled into his room with a towel around his waste, and opened his closet. "Only two more clean uniforms", he drunkenly blurted. Tim was so intoxicated; it took him several minutes just to put on a pair of socks. The pants went on a bit quicker; they only made him fall to the floor once. After Tim was on the ground, he found it much easier to put them on. Twenty minutes later, he left for work fully dressed with his hair sticking everywhere wildly.
Tim's head began to spin as he drove, swerving all over the road. Somehow, almost magically, he missed sideswiping his neighbors' parked cars by a hairline. He cut off an old lady who swerved to miss him and almost ran into a 4x4 truck. Luckily, the driver of the truck had seen it coming, and carefully maneuvered away from a collision. Tim barreled down the street towards a stoplight, but didn't notice it was red. He almost killed an elderly lady walking across the street because of his carelessness.
A policeman noticed him running the red light, so he quickly notified headquarters of his position and went after Tim. Tim didn't notice the flashing lights behind him as he approached the freeway.
"I better not see any stupid bitches talking on their cell phones," Tim slurred to himself. As he merged onto the freeway, the first thing he saw was a middle-aged woman with short hair talking on her cellular phone. Angrily, he swerved towards her car, only intending to scare her. He swerved a little too hard and smashed into her, causing her car to veer into the other lane, cutting off a semi truck with an extended trailer. The semi truck crashed into the nose of the lady's car, sending her spinning across the freeway. Tim's car crashed into her car, which caused his head to slam off the steering wheel. The last thing Tim saw that day was the trailer from the semi-truck sliding on the concrete towards him, with sparks shooting in all directions.
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"All right, time to put the sirens on kid!" Rick heard the driver of the ambulance say. "This one's for real!"
The siren hurt Rick's ears after turning it on. He gazed at the red lights that reflected off of the windows of the cars as they sped down the shoulder.
"Yeah, this is EMS unit number19, I repeat 19. We got a wise guy here, license plate VXDYY7, I repeat VXDYY7," Rick heard the driver say into the radio as a Mercedes cut in front of them, trying to avoid the traffic jam.
"Fuckin' pricks," the ambulance driver muttered while slamming on the brakes.
This was Rick's third month working as an EMS. He thought the job would be more rewarding. Sadness filled him more often than happiness from his work. He did not foresee dealing with drug abusers, and people with their limbs cut off from car accidents. He knew those kinds of things happened, but didn't know they happened as frequently as they did.
As they approached the reported accident on the freeway, it was the worst accident Rick had ever seen. There must have been 50 cars, and 3 semi trucks, all smashed up. A large group of ambulances, police officers and fire trucks had already began gathering at the scene.
After they came to a stop, both ambulance drivers jumped out and ran to find someone in need of assistance. Rick saw a Ford Tempo flipped upside down with a middle aged balding man lying halfway out of the car, covered in blood. Rick quickly rolled up the man's sleeve and checked his pulse. The man was alive. Rick had trouble pulling him the rest of the way out of the car due to his weight problem. After calling for help, another rescue worker ran to his aid. Together they pulled the hurt man out of the wreckage. Two more rescue workers came and placed the unconscious man onto a stretcher and carried him into the back of an ambulance.
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"Where the hell is Tim?" Bobby asked in a frustrated tone.
"Why you asking me?" Videl wondered.
"I'm not asking you, I'm just talking out loud," he answered.
Bobby was sick of waiting for Tim to open the store. He had been standing in front of Waldo's Pet Store for the past half-hour waiting for his boss to arrive. Most of the customers got sick of waiting and journeyed across the street to the other pet store.
"We could have slept another hour, this is pissing me off," Bobby said angrily.
By the time it was noon, all the employees had left except Bobby and Videl. "Why are we still here?" Videl whined, stomping her feet repeatedly like a preschooler.
"I'm just going to wait a few more minutes. I'm sure Tim overslept, you know how much he enjoys drinking," Bobby mumbled.
"Fine, but if he's not here in fifteen minutes, we are leaving!" Videl ordered Bobby.
"Do you think we should stop by his house to check on him if he doesn't show up?"
"He's not going to show up!" Videl stammered.
"I didn't say that he was, I was just asking if we should go see if Tim is ok. " Bobby cried defensively.
"Yeah sure," Videl replied. "But first we have to get some food. I haven't eaten since before the party."
"Ok, enough of this waiting around, let's get out of here." Bobby said as he sleepwalked to his car. He was getting extremely drowsy now and was thankful Tim was playing hooky.
Bobby had trouble staying awake on the drive home. He forgot all about stopping by Tim's house. The only thing he could think about was his pillow. Two minutes after they arrived at the apartment, they were both asleep.
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"His name is Tim Grey. He lives at 992 West Bloom Street. He has a wife Martha with no children. His brother Buck lives about 5 miles from him, all his other relatives live out of state."
"Have you tried contacting his wife yet?" A tall, well-built police officer asked the Oak Tree Hospital secretary.
"We tried calling her, but there was no answer or answering machine," replied the secretary.
"What about his brother?" The cop asked.
"We left a message on his answering machine about a half hour ago."
"All right keep me updated if you hear anything," he told the secretary as he handed her his contact card. She looked at the card and read his name, Sgt. John Pepper.
"Have a good day Officer Pepper," the secretary said cheerfully.
Just as the police officer was about to leave and grab some donuts, two frantic looking people ran into the room and approached the counter.
"Is my brother ok?" A middle-aged man wearing glasses asked.
"Who's your brother?" The secretary asked in return.
"Tim Grey," he replied.
"Oh you must be Buck!" The cop suggested.
The man spun around with a confused look on his face, and asked, "How do you know my name?"
"Relax," the police officer said. "Your brother Tim was just involved in a severe car accident. He has been in a coma ever since the collision."
"Is he going to make it?" Buck asked the police officer as he squeezed his daughter's hand. His daughter was crying, wiping her tears onto her father's jacket.
"His conditions are stable," the police officer answered. "The doctors have no way of knowing how long he will stay in a coma. It could be days or it could be months. I'm not going to lie to you Buck. There is a chance your brother will never wake up again."
Tears flooded out of Buck's eyes. He wrapped his arms around his daughter and squeezed her, burying his face into her fluffy winter coat.
"Are you able to answer a few questions right now?" The cop asked the crying man.
Buck looked up and replied, "Yes."
He followed the police officer into an unused examining room. The police officer closed the door and offered the two empty seats to Buck and his daughter. After they sat down, the cop pulled a small notebook and pen from his back pocket. The cop initiated the questioning with; "Nurses performed a blood test on Tim once he was stabilized. His blood alcohol level was extremely high. I've seen people die from less alcohol. He was extremely lucky to live. Do you know if Tim has had any drug or alcohol problems in the past?"
"Tim doesn't do any drugs!" Buck shouted at the cop. "As for his drinking problems...." Buck paused and took a breath. "Everyone knows Tim drinks a lot. He drinks everyday. It isn't really a problem though, because he always goes in to work on time, and supports his wife."
"Where does he work?" The cop asked Buck as he scribbled something in his notepad.
"Waldo's Pete Store," the tear soaked man replied.
"You know, I can ask you questions some other time if you don't feel like talking right now. I understand your situation." The cop said sympathetically.
"No it's fine, please go on," Buck said.
"Do you ever see Tim get violent when he drinks?" the police officer asked.
"Never!" Buck replied. "He is one of the most laid back guys I know. What does that question have to do with anything?"
Buck was starting to get upset. Officer Pepper knew it was time to quit. "Thanks for your time, we will contact you if we have any new information," he thanked them as he opened the door .
Sgt. Pepper didn't want to tell Buck about the events he witnessed earlier that day. The story would most likely have made him more upset. He thought the old lady with the walker was a goner for sure as the Ford Tempo flew past her, barely missing her. It was almost like God himself came down and saved her.
The Tempo was already 3 blocks ahead of him as he began the chase. The speed limit here was only 25 miles per hour, and he was doing well over 60. The distance was growing shorter with the speeding Tempo until the driver ran through another red light, which almost caused an accident. The cop had no choice except to slow down drastically. The cars in the perpendicular lane saw the cop's lights and let the police car pass through the intersection. He floored his police car again and caught up to the fleeing maniac in seconds, now that he didn't have to worry about pedestrians on the service drive.
As the Tempo merged onto the freeway, Sgt. Pepper saw the driver shake his fist at a Chevy Malibu in the next lane and then intentionally rammed into the car, forcing it into the left lane. The cop slammed on his brakes, coming to a screeching halt. A semi truck slammed into the Malibu, sending the car spinning into several other cars. The semi truck driver apparently slammed on his brakes as his front end violently swung to the left, crashing into a cement wall, which caused his trailer to topple over. The trailer slid a few dozen feet and smashed into cars like a bowling ball through pins.
The heavy flow of traffic did not have much time to react to the situation, so cars repeatedly slammed into the trailer and into each other. The mass destruction only took a few seconds, but to the police officer it seemed to go on forever. The crunching sounds and screams echoed through his head. Minutes later, the situation was flooded with rescue workers.
Coming back to reality, Sgt. Pepper decided to take a visit to Tim's house to see if Martha was home. After he got the usual black coffee and three French crullers, he started driving to Tim's house, using the police radar tracking system to navigate. When he arrived at his destination, he pulled into the driveway and stepped out of his car. It didn't look to him like anyone was home. None of the lights were on except in the basement. He pushed the doorbell two times but couldn't tell if it was functioning properly. After waiting a bit, he began to knock on the door. There was still no answer. After he knocked a few more times he decided to try and talk to some of the neighbors. The officer tried four different houses, all with the same result.
I guess I'm going to have to come back later, he thought as he slid back into his car. He drove off thinking to himself that something wasn't right. He couldn't understand what it was or why he was feeling the way he was feeling. All John Pepper knew was that his internal thoughts were screaming to him that something was wrong, and he was going to find out what.
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