eastbaydave
Needs a job
Posts: 2245
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posted July 07, 2005 07:31 AM
sad bail story (from R6 Forum)
I have been told it is well written and shocking, some said they cried.
PROLOGUE:
It's far too far away from dawn for me to be awake at the moment -- to be sitting here staring at this screen, my fingers tapping on these hollow keys... I'm shaking -- not as much now as I was earlier, mind you, but it's still a perceptible shake... It's a shake from deep within me that just won't seem to stop... I'm drenched in a cold sweat of the most uncomfortable kind -- the kind pulling you from the subterranean depths of slumber into a wide-awake starkness, all white-room normal with it inflating before you in something less than a heartbeat... Even now, so many hours and so many miles beyond that dark place thrust upon me yesterday, a series of minutes unfolding less than 24 hours ago, I'm still there in many ways, unnerved and resolved, the intensity of the imagery scrolling through my mind with an uneasy regularity, gooseflesh exploding across vast expanses of my body, the hair on my neck standing on end...
"... for all the brave amongst us,
a few moments of reflection exist in that small, dark place within,
where whispers and pensive glances override all other expression..."
Perhaps some moments in this writing will clear my head and soothe my beleaguered soul...
ONE:
As business trips go, this was going to be a pleasant one, I thought happily, as I climbed out of bed yesterday morning a few moments shy of my alarm clock's scheduled warning... My recent weeks had been ones of a relentlessly pounding routine -- in at 0430 and out at 1800 -- an unending stream of sameness in the weeks leading up to our next ISO Continuing Assessment and the flurry of last minute requests thrown at me by colleagues more anxiety-prone than they really should be at this point in our collective experience with its ins and outs... One of our Account Executives, sensing my "predicament" and believing I needed a break from what he said was "... sheer madness and monotony...", had asked me recently to accompany him on a Sales call to the offices of a major Client figuring I'd be able to assist him in adding a new dimension to the Customer Satisfaction Measurement Summary report I'd prepared...
TWO:
Our meeting -- initially scheduled for one hour -- blossomed into one ultimately lasting just over three... It was... well... it was a Salesperson's dream on more levels than I can recount... Ben and his contact really clicked, I noted immediately -- it was very easy to see that -- and they wove me into their special moment as one might do with an old and dear friend at a public gathering attended by strangers... The conversation among us was spirited and engaging, bounding about like a butterfly amongst a garden of wildflowers -- the time just flew by, the broad range of topics we addressed together truly surprising in a "is-it-like-really-like-this-all-the-time?" kind of way...
I suppose I was the fly-in-the-ointment, though -- my return flight's departure time, ya' see, was beginning to distract me... Doing the mental calculations, I knew I'd be cutting it close unless we wrapped things up soon... The drive to the airport from the client's offices was right at 30 minutes, and I figured by the time I dropped off my rental car, made my way into the terminal, weaved my way through security and traipsed out to my probably-end-of-the-concourse gate and checked in, I'd need at least 2 hours to keep myself solidly in the green... Glancing down at my watch, I could see that bewitching moment was fast approaching in less than 20 minutes...
Ben noted that as well, his eyes casually glancing in my direction, his index finger softly tapping upon his watch face out of our Client contact's sight, his fingers splayed an instant later in a gesture I interpreted as meaning five more minutes... And sure enough -- in what I know was a well-practiced process, we concluded our time together within that promised window and were walking out to our vehicles in the parking lot a mere few minutes after that... With all the uncertainties travelers face in their wanderings about these days, I felt fortunate, as I glanced down at my own watch, to have picked up about 10 extra minutes in the deal...
"... Thanks... thanks so much for... for getting me out of the office, Ben...", I said sincerely, extending my hand to shake his... "... An' I mean that, too...", I added, smiling...
"... My pleasure, ol' buddy -- my pleasure indeed... I... uh... could... uh... see ya' needed a little change -- especially after that chat we had last week...", he replied, a broad smile crossing his face as he gripped my hand and nodded appreciatively... "... Sorta does ya' good ta... ta get out, doesn't it? An hey -- I really did need your expertise in there...", he stated authoritatively, adding a wink for good measure... "... That was a great presentation..."
I nodded as well, gratefully acknowledging his words and the sincere thoughts behind 'em, sure as sure can be he was absolutely right -- as he usually is, I'd learned over the years, with reading people and their emotions... We'd been friends for years and that's just what friends do for each other... It had been a good day out, I thought to myself -- and I felt refreshed and re-energized in a pleasant way from the experience...
"... Well, I'm just glad I could help out in some way...", I added appreciatively... "... But... uh... I should probably get movin' now -- gotta flight to catch so I can do some stuff at home tonight with the family... So, see ya', Ben -- an'... an' thanks again for everything..."
"... Thank you, Bill -- have a safe flight, now... OK?...", he replied, turning an instant later to walk the few paces to his parked car nearby... Moments later, I was in my own vehicle, buckled in and sliding out of the parking lot on my way to the Interstate ramp a mere quarter mile away and the airport...
THREE:
The traffic at this early hour of the afternoon was mercifully light... Sprinting onto the gently sloping entrance ramp from the high-speed four-lane, my rented Sebring came up to merging speed effortlessly... Scanning my mirror and glancing over my shoulder seconds later, I was able to find a place amongst the thundering metal hoard with relative ease... After gaining my bearings a few hundred yards further down the road, I cautiously moved into the middle lane, where I settled into what the speedometer indicated was a steady 65 miles per hour, the now-activated cruise control allowing me to sit back and relax for the 15-minutes and change before the airport exit would be upon me... There were three lanes of us moving along in this rolling dance, I could see, my head and eyes moving left-to-right and right-to-left in a near constant motion... My speed was just enough to keep me in the stream of things but not attract any unwanted attention... The spacing, however, was almost movie-like in the sense someone trying to make time through this stretch of road with all of us about could do that by weaving in and out of the traffic, each vehicle almost like an evenly spaced cone on parking lot's obstacle course... I smiled, imagining someone trying to do that...
A moment later, my idle musing became a reality...
FOUR:
No matter how fast you're moving, there will always be someone trying to go faster, and while all of us in this moving pack were cruisin' along quite well, the driver of a clapped-out Renault Alliance more full of holes than a piece of Swiss cheese had other thoughts as she crept through our rolling obstacle course at a speed probably several miles per hour faster than everyone else, her mega-watt stereo booming, her "4-75 air conditioning" causing her long hair to blow uncontrolled in the breeze... I smiled and shook my head -- it was something I'd seen... well... perhaps a million times over the years, give or take a hundred thousand or two, and I briefly entertained a notion she'd probably be right in front me at my airport exit several miles ahead... Murphy, I've discovered on more than one occasion, has a way of workin' like that...
I was still lost in that thought when a reflection reached my eyes -- the glistening of the sun reflected off some kind of a shiny object steadily moving towards me from behind... It certainly caught my attention and I found my eyes glued to my left side and interior mounted rear-view mirrors in an attempt to determine just what it was that was gaining on me...
After a few confused moments, its identity was revealed -- mystery solved... It was a motorcycle -- and it was movin' along in the far left lane -- the fast lane -- at a speed slightly higher than the rest of us, I could see... There was something... well... something different about its appearance, though, that focused my attention on it... Ya' see, there was no telltale headlight's glare and no shape I readily recognized -- just a lump of... of something moving down the road...
And then it hit me...
This rider was standing that bike on its back wheel... In a wheelie, no less... At 70-75 miles per hour... On the Interstate... In the middle of the day... On a roadway containing a wide variety of traffic both large and small with drivers of all manners of impairment, both known and unknown...
A few moments later, he inched up beside me, the machine splitting the lane beside me neatly in half, its front wheel elevated and nearly glued to a position in the sky between an imagined clock face's one and two o'clock positions... While there was a part of me just chomping at the bit to turn and look at him, I restrained myself, instead executing a casual glance in his direction, one that obviously displeased him, his inching closer to me a sign, I suspected, my reaction hadn't registered quite right with him...
And what a stereotypical sight it was...
The bike, I could readily see, was one of Suzuki's finest -- a Gixxer -- though obviously not just-off-the-dealer's-floor new and showing some real signs of wear and neglect, its once bright and shiny blue 'n' white finish faded to something several shades darker and, by design, I'm absolutely sure in this instance, more sinister and menacing in appearance... It sported an after-market can of which the rider seemed to enjoy the sound, his delicate and perfectly balanced roll-on and roll-off producing an odd, chant-like rhythm sounding something like "... w-u-u-u-a-a-a-a-a-a... burble... w-u-u-u-a-a-a-a-a-a... burble...", the pulse steady and reverberating throughout my Sebring's interior...
Glancing back to my left seconds later, I was able to see much more detail of the rider...
He was, as my daughter tells me, a "phat boy" -- a young teen-to-early-20-something man saturated to the gills with a sense of invincibility in much the same manner a lawn might be that way after days and days of rain... You can probably imagine the image in your own mind... He was standing tall on the Gixxer's rear pegs -- "... in the saddle...", as it were -- his line of sight obscured by the bike's instrument cluster and tinted windscreen... It was something of a... a legendary pose -- an' one not unlike that seen in the recent series of "Captain Morgan Rum" commercials, the rider looking more sea captain-like than motorcycle rider, his posture upright and rigidly erect, his gaze on the ocean of concrete ahead, his confident and almost cocky attitude on display for all to see... Upon his head was the obligatory ball cap, its bill turned rearward in the popular style... I noted, surprisingly, he wasn't wearing any eye protection -- no glasses or goggles... I tried to imagine for an instant the brutal pounding his eyes were taking in the slipstream and shuddered at the thought of the pain he'd experience if a wayward insect wandered into his path... No wonder he was squinting as much as he was, I concluded... Atop his white t-shirt was a short-sleeved, button-down collared, and tropical patterned shirt billowing behind him in the breeze, its tail snapping as a flag would under similar circumstance... His choice of pants rounded out his "phat boy" look to the proverbial "T", though the term would more correctly be "shorts"... They were of the baggy-below-the-knee-and-fallin-off-the-hips type so popular these days with young men of his generation... I was heartened to see he was at least wearing underwear, that question easily answered with just a fleeting look... Upon his calf was a tattoo -- a sheathed dagger, its scabbard decorated in an intricate, Celtic pattern and highlighted with a rainbow of colors...
The rider slowly danced the bike back and forth across the lane, almost waltz-like in its grace and smoothness, the still rhythmic "... w-u-u-u-a-a-a-a-a-a... burble..." filling the air, a trance-like smile upon his face, his glances at passing vehicles just seeking their notice and reaction... It was poetry, in a sense, though, in my guarded view, very risky poetry at best...
It was also eerie -- and frightening...
When a traffic gap to my right finally presented itself, I eased my rental car over into that lane, preferring a more distant vantage point than what I had at that moment to this motorized ballet... If something were to go wrong, I reasoned, then I wanted some extra time and distance between me and whatever might happen... I knew I was ahead of schedule as far as getting-to-the-airport-with-time-to-spare went, so I settled back in to my own little groove, content to watch the rider advance through the traffic ahead of me...
FIVE:
Several minutes had passed since I'd first seen the rider appear in my mirrors and advance to a spot now several car lengths in front of me... His elevated front wheel dancing continued uninterrupted... I began to wonder, though, how long it could go on -- and how the motor might be faring with this decidedly atypical attitude...
The movie-like spacing I'd earlier noticed remained largely intact this entire time, and, true to form, another motorist in more of a hurry than the rest of us came charging to the front from somewhere well behind the pack in something approaching the experience of several drivers in the recently run Indianapolis 500 race... This driver of this late model Mercedes must've been in quite a hurry to be slicing through the traffic as he was... I conservatively estimated his speed at being at least twenty miles per hour faster than the rest of us, though with the balancing act I observed as he blurred past me of "cell-phone-left-hand-cup-o'-coffee right-hand", I suspected he had no clue about it himself...
I immediately thought of the rider ahead -- and the peril he could be in if he were to find himself in this driver's attention-challenged path...
SIX:
I watched the Mercedes' advance through traffic with rapt attention as it gained on the Gixxer, my disbelief in its driver being able to control its path without a constant hand on the wheel, shaking my head at his apparent prowess with his knees and his thighs... The gap between them got smaller and smaller and smaller -- my sense of anxiety grew more intense with each passing foot... From where I was sitting some six or so car lengths behind and to the right of them, it looked to me like they were right on top of each other, the rider seemingly ignorant, and blissfully so based upon my earlier observation, of the driver's immediate presence...
It was at that moment, though, the rider apparently returned to the moment at hand...
I saw him glance over his shoulder at the driver and gesture for him to move back, his fist clenched, his left arm stabbing madly at the sky in an act of defiance and anger... The twisting movement of his body, however, must've upset the rather delicate balance of the bike, for at that instant, it began to shudder and oscillate in a manner I'd not seen before...
The brake lights of the Mercedes came on instantly, its speed noticeably slowing as all eyes focused on the Gixxer's rider to see what would happen next...
SEVEN:
The shuddering continued as the still-elevated front wheel danced a wider arc from left to right, the rider now seriously involved in trying to save himself and his bike... I could now hear the motor really screaming, the previous "... w-u-u-u-a-a-a-a-a-a... burble..." replaced by a desperate, higher-pitched and more urgent wail, the motor obviously straining up against it known limits...
He was going to try to ride out of it with speed, I quickly reasoned, a stunt not often successful, even in the talent pool populating the Moto GP and WSB starting grids... Shaking my head in disbelief and biting my lip, I watched his frantic efforts to tame the monster, helpless to do anything but just that -- watch...
EIGHT:
The next few moments came upon us in slow motion -- very slow motion...
As the Gixxer picked up speed, it actually did seem to stabilize somewhat from my vantage point -- or was it just an optical illusion -- the width of the arc the elevated front wheel was tracing appearing to get perceptibly smaller... The rider's plan seemed to be working, I sensed, finally taking a breath for the first time in several moments... The motor was still at full wail, and while I suspected the rider could normally have up-shifted a gear or two to maintain his speed but reduce the revs, I knew he had his hands and body full just hanging on and wouldn't be in a position to do that...
But what happened next in this parade of chaos reached my ears before it reached my eyes...
It was the "POP" I heard over the sound of the wind noise -- something akin to a very loud, sharp, metallic clap -- that caused me to shudder, for at that instant, in the relatively short distance in front of me, I saw the Gixxer's front wheel came smashing down to the pavement with uncommon force, its untrue and decidedly not perpendicular direction violently whipping it to the right across all three lanes of traffic and towards the guard rail at a very high rate of speed... The bike and rider departed ways instantly, both of them tumbling through the air and bounding off of the pavement like rubber balls, each cart wheeling end over end and sliding along the pavement and randomly spewing fluids and shedding parts with an all-too-urgent intensity and ferocity...
It was one of the most violent and gruesome scenes I've ever witnessed...
What I was witnessing rendered me instantly silent, a feeling of powerlessness to do anything about the events taking place before my eyes overcoming me quickly... Somehow, I had the wherewithal to reach for my cell phone and dial 911, informing the voice at the other end, in the calmest voice I could muster, of the accident I'd just witnessed and was still witnessing... Hanging up quickly, I pulled to the shoulder, clicked on my emergency flashers and inched my rental car up close to where the downed rider had come to a rest, his body prone and tucked up against the guard rail... In this position, I figured I'd be able to provide some protection for him before help arrived, sensing there was no need for any more carnage at the moment...
Others were stopping ahead and behind of me, but I was the one reaching his side first...
I sensed traffic had slowed in the few heartbeats it took me to get from where I parked to the rider, but that was really beyond me at the moment... I walked up slowly to the downed rider and knelt at his side, my body shielding him from the sun and the likely ogles of passing motorists... He was in bad shape, I could see instantly -- really bad shape... I took off my suit coat and wadded it up, taking great care to place it beneath his head, at the same time leaning down a bit further to speak to him...
"... You've... you've been in a motorcycle accident... ", I said calmly, my heart in my suddenly-dry throat... "... Help is on the way... I'll... I'll be here with ya' until they get here... " Extending my hand at the same time, I gently clasped his -- the only one he still had, I could see... The time ticked away s-l-o-w-l-y -- so much more slowly than I thought it should... I was aware of others standing around me at that point, but I couldn't see their faces -- I only felt their presence... I looked down at the rider, forcing myself to take in the gory detail in the faint hope what I observed would be of some assistance to the Paramedics when they arrived...
The details... they were just horrific...
He was still breathing -- barely -- that, I could tell... He was just bleeding from so many places, there was no way I could attempt to do anything to stop it... His upper body, once adorned with a t-shirt and short-sleeved shirt now both long gone, was little more than a shapeless mass of exposed bones, his lungs almost visible as they slowly rose and fell with his labored breathing... But he was breathing, I discovered... How? More importantly, I wondered -- why? There was a hole in his face where his nose had been, his shallow breathing blowing small, gurgling blood bubbles that burst soon after they were formed... Most of the left half of his face and his jaw were deposited somewhere behind me on the roadway... His right eye was partially open, though unfocused and blinking only infrequently... Tears were rolling down his remaining cheek -- I began to tear up myself at the sight of this young man, his plight and what I was quickly seeing as his ultimate fate... Glancing quickly towards the lower part of what remained of his body, the scene didn't get any better or any more encouraging... Little was left of his left arm or either leg, and what flesh I could see was minimal, at best...
I paused to breathe... to collect myself...
This was as bad as anything I'd experienced since 'Nam, I thought... I wanted to puke... I wanted to cry... I wanted to... to just get up and run away as fast and as far away as I could get from this killing field... But I knew I couldn't -- and most important of all, I knew I wouldn't... I knew I needed to keep it together -- for the sake of this anonymous rider, the help I knew must certainly be coming soon and... yes... for me...
No one deserves to die alone, and if that was what fate had in store for this young man, then, I told myself, I was going to stay at his side until I could do so no longer...
Renewed with heightened sense of resolve, I looked to the heavens above and prayed -- a string of randomly uttered and non-standard prayers offered with more reverence and feeling than I'd felt in a very long time, knowing full well my lack of regular church attendance and traditional practice of faith would not likely garner any favor with the "Big Guy", but I prayed nonetheless, hoping this one unselfish act might carry the moment and spare this young rider a departure from this earth without grace and forgiveness...
It was, however, a prayer whose effectiveness will never likely be know...
Before I'd finished, the rider slipped away, his once firm grip on my hand slowly relaxing, the blood bubbles no more, the slight movement of his chest now still... Tears rolled down my cheeks...
NINE:
The next thing I remember was looking up into the eyes of the Paramedic and a Law Enforcement Officer standing at his side, the afternoon sun oh-so-bright and glaring in my eyes... I was still halfway kneeling and sitting beside the rider's lifeless body, his head cradled gently in my lap...
"... He's... he's gone...", I said wistfully, a sense of guilt and remorse in my voice, my voice trembling... "... I... I... couldn't do anything but... but try to comfort him... He... he... was just so bad off..."
"... We'll... we'll take him now, sir...", the Paramedic said, the tone of his voice both sympathetic and calming... "... You did more than most would have done... Thank you... for all you did..."...
I nodded and sat back as the Paramedic and his two Assistants slid the lifeless body onto a board and lifted it to the gurney, immediately and with great care, covering it from the prying eyes of passersby... I shifted in place and, with some effort, stood up -- slowly -- mentally disoriented and spiritually drained, my legs weak and shaking and barely able to support me... The State Trooper came to my side and asked if she could help me... I looked at her and said "... You already have..."
TEN:
There was no need for me to give a statement, and for that, I'll always be thankful... There were enough witnesses to the event as it unfolded to ensure a degree of accuracy for the report, the Officer told me...
I sat with her for a few minutes afterwards to reconnect and regain my composure... A short while later, I told her I was ready to go...
"... Are you... you sure? You've... well... you've been through quite a lot this afternoon...", she said, a kind and caring tone in her voice...
"... Yeah -- I am...", I replied, looking across the seat at her, my focus actually many feet beyond, a tiredness in my voice... "... I'll... I'll be OK... I... uh... I just need ta get home now... I really just want to be home...", I added after a brief pause...
She nodded and we both sat there a few moments longer looking at each other, neither of us speaking a word...
And then it just exploded from me... "... What a... a f****n' waste...", I spit out forcefully through clenched teeth, instantly regretting my sudden utterance at a moment still so close to the place and time the rider had left and in the presence of the Officer... "... Oh... I'm... I'm so... so sorry... I... really shouldn't have said that..." I added immediately, the words I'd just spoken still hanging motionless in the air between us, my face obviously blushing at such an unexpected and uncharacteristic expression coming from within me... It was a raw and heartfelt emotion as real as what I'd just experienced -- but I thought it just a bit insensitive at that exact moment...
She said nothing... Instead, she reached slowly across the seat and touched my hand... "... That's OK -- ya' know, to be honest, I was thinkin' the e-x-a-c-t same thing..."...
My eyes instantly fell to the floorboard as I let her words sink in... It was the jolt -- the initial release -- I needed to get moving forward again... And I knew I would do that... I felt consumed by an infinite sadness at that instant -- one seasoned by both an intense anger and an equally intense sympathy -- but I knew I'd figure a way to channel that into something more positive in the days ahead... I thought again of the rider, my hand clasping his during his final moments of life... It was a experience we shared I will not soon forget -- and at least he did not have to go through it alone...
After an additional moment of reflective silence, I slowly looked up, thanked her for her time, opened the door and stepped outside into the humid afternoon... Walking back to my car, the first few steps were tentative, but I noted immediately, they were much more steady than before...
There was a Rest Area just up the road I'd remembered a sign announcing some distance behind me... The sign a few yards away confirmed it -- just another mile or so -- and I figured I'd make good use of its facilities to clean up and change into the clothes I'd hastily packed before leaving that morning, never sensing at the time I'd need them, but appreciative of that foresight at the moment... That would definitely be necessary... Just looking down at myself, I could see I must be quite the sight, my clothing splattered with blood and me looking about as disheveled as disheveled can be...
Glancing down at my watch, I immediately realized my flight home had been missed... Shaking my head knowingly, I reluctantly smiled, figuring it was actually an answer to my prayers -- a real blessing in disguise and a chance for some much-needed time to myself to reflect upon the moments I'd just experienced... It would also be an opportunity to decompress before being around a lot of people... The silence and solitude would be appreciated as well...
As I pulled back into traffic a short while later and headed for the Rest Area, the thought of having some "me" time sounded better and better, and as I drove, the following prayer began running through my head:
"... Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep..."
Godspeed, young man... In your sleep, may you find peace in the arms of your God...
EPILOGUE:
There are likely to be many moments in the days ahead when I will see the crumpled, lifeless body of this anonymous rider before my eyes at times both opportune and not... Over time, however, I hope the intensity of that image and others will fade as they are wont to do... And perhaps some day, I'll reach an understanding of what meaning this event has really had upon me and how I deal with the risks facing me every day in life, so that one day I may be able to look back and be thankful, in some truly meaningful and measurable way, for the blessings life has bestowed upon me -- a view I hope to one day have of this impactful moment yesterday on the side of a road somewhere very far from home...
-- Bill
© 2005 / Bill Harris. All rights reserved.
____________
Enjoy the ride!
02' ZRX1200
00' ZX12R sold
  
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