The Tweener Read online

the bed and yelled, “My boys awake, my miracle child is awake…..nurse, nurse nurse.”, before scampering out of the room.

  Pops sat in the corner of the room in an uncomfortable looking wooden chair. He looked tired and his hand trembled when he smoothed back his hair.

  “How you feeling son?” he asked, his slow Southern drawl making me feel like I was home again.

  “Okay Pops……what happened, where am I?”

  “Brumford General. Seems you took a spill off your bike, and you busted up your arm pretty good. You remember any of that?”

  “Gabriel”, I mumbled.

  Pops eyes narrowed and he fingered the cigarette behind his ear nervously.

  “Is that the big fella Jimmy told us about?”

  I glanced around the hospital room, the pulled drapes making it hard to make out anything save for the bright white cast on my arm. I nodded.

  He looked like he was about to say something else, but Mom rushed in and started kissing me, over and over. Tears spilled from her eyes and landed, hot and wet, on my face.

  “My miracle boy.”, she said once more. Another kiss and then she was off again mumbling something about the nurses and my doctor that I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear.

  I looked across and Pops and asked, “Why does she keep calling me her miracle boy?”

  My old man sighed and sucked on his bottom lip with a loud smack, a sure sign that he was about to impart some important words of wisdom. Pops was a man that believes that BS should be avoided at all costs, and that the truth always be told. He dragged the wooden chair to the side of my bed, its legs screeching across the polished floor.

  “You’ve been out cold for two days son, and a lot has gone on in that time. You were out cold when Jimmy got back with the police. That big fella was nowhere to be found when they got there. They asked at the Rumor, but no-one had ever lived there that looked the way Jimmy described. A bunch of the cops and local men scoured the woods, but no luck, seems he just up and vanished.”

  Pops paused for a moment and looked at me. I guess he was sizing me up, making sure I was really awake. The volume of his lip sucking told me the next part was gonna be good.

  “They brought you here, patched up your arm, gave you a cat scan for the nasty old bump you got on top of your head and ran a whole bunch of other tests while you slept like a baby. Probably a good thing given how much they were poking and prodding you. Your mom and me stayed here all night watchin’ the news for any word on that giant, and eventually we saw him, but not how we expected to.”

  “Day after you got here all the TV stations were interrupted by a news piece about a 747 headed for Atlanta that was experiencing engine trouble. It needed a place to land and our little landing strip was the nearest spot”.

  I sat; bolt upright, in bed, a little too quickly. Stars jumped in front of my eyes and my temples screamed in protest. I ignored the pain and asked; “How the heck was a 747 ever gonna land on our little airstrip?”

  “They had to try son, and they might have made too if it hadn’t been for that other little plane. It all happened so fast. I watched it here, there’s a great view of the strip right outside yonder window. I’ve done a lot of hunting son and know all too well what a wounded animal sounds like. Let me tell you, that big bird was hurtin’, I could hear its engines screaming and it was floppin” from side to side. The tower guys were so focused on her that they failed to notice the little Cessna fly right into its path.”

  Pops stopped again and reached for my hand, no snakeskin here, just comfort.

  “They collided in midair and the big one veered off and smashed right into your school. Everything went up like a giant firecracker. It’s a mess down there son, no-one survived. Turns out you were the only kid not in school that day. That’s why Mom calls you her miracle boy, double miracle really. You survived an attack by that cuckoo bird and that attack led to you missing school and surviving again”

  Gooseflesh covered my body and I shivered wildly. I thought of Gabriel and how he needed to save one.

  “Wait Pops, you said you saw him. When was that?”

  “On TV. We were watching the newsfeed of the fire crew fightin” the blaze and out of nowhere this big guy come racing into the flames. It was loud with the hoses and sirens and all, but you could still hear him yellin’.”

  “What was he yelling?”, I asked, my shudder now a full on bodyquake.

  “He was hollerin’ on about having to go somewhere and having to save just one. Crazy is what he was son, crazy.”

  Pops got up and pulled back the drapes. Very little light filtered in and I assumed it must be late, but when I turned to look all I could see was black smoke floating up into the sky, blotting out the sun.

  “They are still tryin’ to put it out. Jet fuel doesn’t die too easy it seems.”

  We both stared out the window for a moment, comfortable in the silence. I thought of the friends I would never see again and I started to sob. Pops placed an arm around my shoulder and kissed my forehead. The room door flew open, breaking our bond and Mom rushed back in.

  “David Allen Covington, lay yourself back down in that bed and get some rest.”

  She gently pushed me back and fixed the covers around me, cocooning me in a way that made it tough to move.

  “Come on now Pops, the doctor wants to talk to us out here. He has Davey’s CAT Scan results. Hopefully he’s ready to let us all go home.”

  Pops turned and gave me a quick wink before ushering Mom out into the hallway. The door closed slowly, and just before it closed I saw a large hand reach around and push it back open. Gabriel stepped inside, a plain green hospital gown with “BGH” stenciled on the chest, barely covering his massive frame. Seems the man has a gown for all occasions. He made it to my bedside in two strides and stared down at me, those blue eyes filled with sadness.

  “I saved your hat for you”, he said, placing my battered Braves cap on my bed.

  I touched the brim, the Smoltz signature almost completely obliterated by mud stains and time.

  “I don’t think I’ll be needing it,” I whispered, “It doesn’t fit very well anymore, gives me headaches.”

  “No, that’s not it at all, it fits you just fine,” Gabriel said, eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry Davey. I didn’t see it. It was all so big and you were so small. It’s the small things that slip through the cracks unnoticed.”

  He reached out and laid his large hand on the top of my head. The room spun like our time in the woods, but this time there was no fire, only darkness with the faintest glimmer of light off in the distance. He patted my head and said, “This will only hurt for a little bit and then you’ll be fine.”

  He turned and left as quickly as he had come, and as the room door closed I could hear my Mom out in the hallway screaming….

  “ Not my boy….not my miracle boy. He can’t die now…..not now.”

  ###

  About the author

  John currently resides in the Metro Atlanta area with his wife Penny, and is working on his first full collection of short stories titled, “Behind These Eyes Of Sleep”. If you would like updates on this project, or just want to read his daily blog, you can do so by visiting https://www.theinkedwriter.com