Dawn Awakening

Craning her neck to see over the mass of hangars lumped together over the passenger side and flooding the backseat, she slid the car into drive and pulled out of the parking space with one last glance up at the dorm that had been her home for the past four years. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket before she could pull away from the first stop sign. Maybe, it was her dad checking up on her or her mom, calling to see if she needed anything. She did, but she wasn't going to tell her mom. Nope. She was an independent woman now and she'd figure it out as she went along.

After wiggling her phone free from the front pocket of her jean shorts, she glanced at the number on the display. She didn't recognize it. Probably, someone dialed the wrong number. Being nervous as she was and eager to hear the voice of another human being, just to remind her she wasn't alone in the world, she answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Roberta Danielle Harris?" The voice on the other end was gravely, deep, and thick with hesitation. Robbie confirmed with a certain measure of dread. When people used her full name it was never a good sign. The voice on the other end introduced itself as Mack Brown, the Moore County Sheriff, also not good, her heart began to pound in her chest.

She listened to his monologue, spoken in that gravely voice as rough as sandpaper, went on, sympathetic and apologizing all over itself to inform her that her parents had been killed in a head on collision. Her fingers gripped the cell phone, pressing it to her ear hard enough to hurt. Her parents? Dead?

The Sheriff, as well intentioned as he was, should check his facts more thoroughly before making calls like this. He had the wrong person. The wrong set of parents. There was a mix up. It couldn't be her mom and dad. He was wrong. This was a mistake. Yeah, that was it. Simple, easy enough to do, just an honest mistake. It couldn't be her mom and dad. Although, she felt bad for the kid whose parents were stretched out in the hospital morgue, she was glad they weren't hers.

Her parents were working. They worked till well after ten during the busy season, peddling ice cream to the hungry masses. They were safe behind the counter, chit chatting it up with the locals. Earning their fortune, one sundae at a time. They weren't dead. They couldn't be gone. After hanging up with the sheriff, she dialed the shop and didn't get an answer. That didn't prove shit. They were too busy behind the counter to answer the phone. That was all.

Her hands were trembling. Tears of hot grief streamed down her face and dripped off her chin. This was wrong. Mack was wrong. He just got confused. After all, people got things mixed up all of the time. Right? The couple, poor things, and she felt bad for them. She really did. That couple just looked like her parents. This was an innocent misunderstanding. Nothing more. Could happen to anybody. Hell, it had happened to her. She could have sworn she saw Justin Timberlake in line that day at Starbucks. She'd even been tempted to ask for an autograph. That was it, pure and simple, just a case of mistaken identity. Happened all the time.

As a double check, she pushed speed dial and called home. No answer, no, of course not, her parents were at the shop. But, the sound of her mom's cheerful greeting on the answering machine was enough to send her into a fit of sobs. In a fit of frustration, Robbie threw the phone onto the dashboard. It skittered across the cracked vinyl and landed with a clatter in the console. Resting her head on the steering wheel, not giving a damn about traffic, she cried... hard. A shoulder shaking, gut wrenching bawl fest. Mack could be wrong. HE WAS WRONG.

This couldn't be happening, not to her. Her parents weren't dead. She wasn't ready to lose them. They weren't supposed to die like that. They were supposed to die years from now, old and wrinkled, in their golden years. Not like this. Not this soon.

Sobs wracked through her body, blurring her vision. A loud angry honk from the guy behind her got her head back in the game. Wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, she looked into the rearview mirror. The rusty pick up was flashing its lights off and on like Morse code. A thick, brawny arm waved impatiently, making rude gestures at her, from the driver's side window. Robbie resisted the urge to return the favor and make a few less than Miss Manners hand signals herself. She flipped on her turn signal and inched through the intersection.

Her apartment was in the opposite direction, at the far side of campus, close to the edge of downtown. She wasn't going there though. She had to go home. Confirm that the couple in the morgue weren't her parents. Gunning the engine for all it was worth, she sped toward the interstate. Luckily there wasn't a lot of traffic on Sunday evenings. Her vision was for shit through the blurriness of her tears, she merged onto the interstate. Pointing the car headed straight into the storm.

When Robbie got home, she and her parents would have a good laugh about this. Maybe her mom would send coupons for free ice cream cones to the Sheriff's Department. Just to give old Mack a poke in the ribs. Yeah, Robbie would make sure Mack got the message loud and clear not to make this kind of mistake again. This wasn't the kind of thing that got a guy reelected at the end of his term. She sure as hell wasn't voting for him.

Gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, Robbie mashed down on the accelerator. With not much to do for the next two hours or so but watch the wipers beat at the rain, her mind had plenty of time to play hell with her. And it did. She pushed the image of her parent's dead and mangled bodies out of her head and focused on counting the mile markers instead.

Her heart practically stopped when she saw a car pulled over to the side of the interstate, hazard lights flashing. Her mind zoned out on her and she was certain, in a panic, that there'd been an accident. Not so, only an unfortunate guy with the dumb luck to get a flat in the middle of a rainstorm, nothing to worry about. She had to stop this line of thinking immediately. Otherwise, she'd be a basket case by the time she got home.

The mile markers ticked away, slowly chewing up the distance between her and home. Everything was fine. Dandy even. Her parents didn't always answer the phone. Nothing to get concerned about there. She'd go to the hospital, not that she relished the thought of looking at the bodies. But, she'd be more than happy to confirm that the dead were not her parents.

Yeah, she'd clear this whole unfortunate mess up when she pulled into town. Give her mom and dad hell for not answering the phone. Give Mack hell for making such a terrible mistake. And hug them all, her parents for breathing, and Mack too, just because he was wrong. Everything was fine. Ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut, she held onto that thought. The hugs, the hope, that everything was fine. Her parents were alive and well. And this was nothing more than a horrific nightmare.

Tomorrow morning she'd wake up in her bed at home. Have breakfast with the 'rents, and drive back to the city. Unpack her car, set up her apartment just the way she planned. And start the rest of her life. But, one thing was for certain. She'd never take her parents for granted ever again.





















Chapter 4

The drive home seemed to take an eternity; Robbie drove well over the speed limit. As fast as she dared in the rain with the condition her tires were in. But, the miles slowly ticked by. Painstakingly slow. Her mind took her to that dark place of doubt. What if Mack wasn't wrong? What would she do then? How would she go on without her parents? Without...anybody? She was an only child, the daughter of two other only children. There were no cousins, aunts or uncles, and both sets of grandparents were long gone. There had always been just the three of them, her parents and her. What was she going to do without them?

Never in her life had she felt so isolated. How did it happen? Her dad was always such a careful driver. Mack was brief on the details. Saving them, like the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box, for when she arrived at the hospital to do the gruesome task. Apparently, the semi driver had fallen asleep behind the wheel. Actually, that was more than enough info for her to fill in the blanks of what happened next.

More tears threatened to break loose as she imagined the look of horror on her parent's faces seconds before the impact. The moment they realized they were going to die was forever burned into her psyche. Hands trembling, she wiped at her wet cheeks and concentrated on the interstate stretched out ahead of her. The marker indicating that she had entered Moore County whizzed past the passenger side window. Teeth grated in sheer dread, jaw clamped tight, set firm, she flipped on the turn signal and eased off the gas at the start of the off ramp.

Thunder raged around her and lightening lit up the black sky. A deluge of rain broke loose forcing her to creep down the off ramp. The wipers clacked in protest, barely keeping pace with the downpour. Rolling to a stop, she shivered, not thinking of it till now. She would have to drive down that same stretch of highway, right past the accident scene.

Holding the steering wheel in a death grip. She promised herself before making the turn that she wouldn't look. She wouldn't slow down. Just haul ass to town and get to the bottom of this. She would not stop. Rubberneck. Look for the telltale skid marks on the pavement, the left behind shards of broken glass, twisted bits of metal thrown from the wreckage, or bits of shorn plastic. Gathering a fragile hold on her composure, pressing down on the gas, she made the turn onto the highway.

Robbie couldn't help it. Call it morbid curiosity or a desperate grim need for confirmation. She slowed the car to a crawl. The highway was deserted. Barren except for a couple of brave stragglers determined to drive through the storm. Barely able to see the black skid marks on the roadway through the deluge of fat raindrops and jagged bursts of lightening, she pulled to the side of the road and put on her flashers. A minute, she just needed a minute to stop. Look. Get her shit together before she went on.

Cold rain soaked her clothes as she climbed out of the car. Sticking her t-shirt and shorts to her shivering body like a second skin. Nausea rolled through her guts and her knees shook. Crouched on the shoulder of the road, she ran her fingertips over the scattered shards of glass and bits of debris.

A candy bar wrapper floated aimlessly in a puddle left behind by the deep imprint of a wide tire track in the mud. The wrapper was from one of her dad's favorite treats. If she ever wanted to know where he'd been, all she'd ever had to do was follow the trail of empty wrappers he left behind like breadcrumbs.

An empty paper cup skittered in the wind. Battered to and fro, rolling and bumping along the tall grass at the side of the shoulder. The imprint of lipstick along the rim, she'd recognize that shade of pink anywhere. Her mom never varied from the color. So much like her smile, it was always the same.

This is where the accident happened. The county had done its best to erase the scene. But, she saw it everywhere. Robbie scrambled after that paper cup, chasing after it as if it was the most important thing in the world. Bending, and scrabbling through the mud, her fingers locked around the candy bar wrapper, clutching it in her trembling fist. Overwhelmed by her grief, she sank into the wet grass and let the storm, the cold rain, and the darkness soak her through to the bone.

Clutching that stupid paper cup with the pink lipstick imprint on the rim and that damned tattered candy bar wrapper in her fist, like the winning lottery ticket, Robbie pushed up from the rain-slicked grass and hobbled to the car. Her grief as heavy as a ton of bricks on her shoulders, she slid into drive. Not bothering with the seat belt, pulling off the shoulder and back onto the road she drive into town.

Numb, not from the cold, but from the emptiness inside of her, she putted past the ice cream shop. Its cheerful neon signs flashed like beacons in the darkness. But, she saw no comfort in their familiar light. The town was buttoned up tight for the night. Dark storefronts with their shades pulled down over plate glass windows, stretched down both sides of the main drag through town. Robbie didn't bother going by the house first. What was the point? There wasn't anybody there waiting for her. On autopilot, she made a left turn off Main and drove through the sleepy neighborhoods to the hospital.

Robbie pulled into the hospital lot and parked in the first empty space she saw. Not hard to do, considering the lot was practically deserted except for a few cars. Not even considering the rain, still a steady drenching downpour, she dragged herself into the emergency room as she had been instructed to do. She didn't care that she was drenched from head to toe. Standing at the reception desk waiting, the rainwater dripped off the soaked hem of her shorts, pooling at her feet onto the white tile floor.

She recognized Mack immediately. The man never changed. He was an older, in his early sixties, with a graying mustache, and eyes, dulled from the burden of seeing too much. Gently patting her shoulder with that massive, gnarled paw of a hand, he softly offered condolences.

Robbie's knees wobbled unsteadily, threatening to give way as she mumbled a few intelligible words that seemed to satisfy Mack and the staff as appropriate enough. Following him and the emergency room doctor through sterile, white, absolutely non-descript corridors to the morgue, she shivered underneath the stiff, coarse, antiseptic smelling, hospital blanket a nurse had sympathetically wrapped around her shoulders.

Robbie stared at her disheveled pale reflection in the shimmering chrome surfaces of the morgue. She could hardly recognize the shocked face that stared back at her wide-eyed and pale, pasty as the white blanket around her shoulders. Dutifully, mumbling in a dull monotone, robotic voice, she recited her parent's full names for the record.

Bile rose up in her throat as she followed Mack and a doctor through the door of the morgue. Her trembling fingers clutched the paper cup and the candy bar wrapper as if they were the only reminder that this was real. This was happening, not to anybody else, but to her. The ER doctor, also the coroner, did the honors, unzipping first one bag and then the other. Keeping the whole thing very discreet, he only revealed what was necessary to make a positive ID. Robbie had expected to see gore and looks of horror splayed across gray skin and bluish lips. Instead, her parents looked so peaceful as if her parents were merely sleeping.

. The emergency room doctor clinically and coldly explained the hard truth to her. That both her parents had died on the scene. And, that despite every attempt of emergency responders, nothing could have been done to save them. Mechanically, oddly detached and devoid of tears, Robbie nodded and said nothing more than what the doctor/coroner expected her to say. Mentally exhausted, unable to fully comprehend the doctor's well-rehearsed speech, she signed the papers and took the manila envelope with her parent's personal effects from Mack's hand.

Uncomfortably, the doctor offered his last sympathies and scurried out of the room. The nurse quickly followed suit with an apologetic nod of her head, leaving her with Mack to tie up any loose ends. Did she have any family to call? Was there anything he could do? Did she need a ride home? No, no, and no. The only thing she needed, would ever need, was the only thing nobody could do for her. Bring her parents back. Make this nightmare go away.

Manila envelope tucked under her arm. Keys banging around in her pocket, Robbie left the morgue with Mack on her heels. She unwrapped the blanket from around her shoulders and handed it to him, to give him something to do besides hover over her. He meant well. But, she was in no mood for it. Finally, he got the hint and took the wet blanket over to the nurse watching her from behind the counter. On her way out, she dropped the paper cup with its familiar lipstick stain and the tattered remains of the candy bar wrapper into the black, cylindrical trash receptacle, stamped with a friendly reminder to recycle in white letters on the side.





























Chapter 5

Robbie stood on the front porch, fumbling with her keys. Her fingers hadn't stopped trembling yet. Finally, she managed to get the correct key into the lock and let herself in. She grew up in this house; she was familiar with every line, every stick of furniture, everything, even down to the last creak in the old wood floors. But, the quiet and the emptiness, was completely unfamiliar. Exhausted and frozen to the bone in a way that no amount of heat would thaw, she tore open the manila envelope and spilled the contents onto the coffee table.

She could still smell the scent of her parents lingering the room. Her mom's familiar perfume, sweet and floral with just a hint of vanilla, surrounded her like a warm blanket. And her dad, his smell, of spices and the soft, pungent tinge of sweat, enveloped her, like a last embrace. If she didn't know differently, it would seem just like any other time she'd come home to visit. As if at any minute her parents would burst through the front door so eager to see her and welcome her home. In fact, from time to time, she'd glance over at the door, expecting to see them. Only, they weren't coming home tonight, or ever again.

Robbie opened the cracked black leather of her father's wallet and brought it to her nose, smelling the bitter scent of the leather and the acrid smell of the few dollar bills jammed inside. Flipping through the random scraps of paper he thought were important, she skimmed over them. She took out his driver's license and held it in her palm, closing her fingers around it and carefully, slipped it back into place with a sort of reverence the BMV would have been proud of.

Her body wracked with sobs as she stared down at the tattered snapshot she worked free from her dad's wallet. Robbie stared down at the picture of her mom and dad, standing proudly in front of the shop on opening day. They looked so young, so hopeful, so certain of the future they planned. She was in the picture also. Just a little girl, sandwiched between them, with curly spikes of unruly crimson hair sticking out all over the place, holding a red balloon in her tiny fist, smiling up at the camera. It seemed so long ago.

Robbie shook the envelope, carefully placing the matching set of gold bands on the table side by side. Lining them up neatly. The chain of her mother's necklace delicately dropped over her index finger as she played with the heart-shaped, turquoise and white gold pendant. Struggling with the clasp, she slid the chain around her neck and dropped the pendant to the hollow of her throat.

Her mother's worn Coach bag, resurrected from a church rummage sale, rested

between her feet. Robbie gently pushed it under the couch with the toe of her shoe. Not ready to start the excursion into its secrets. So much of what a woman was resided in her purse. Robbie didn't want to face whatever might be in the handbag waiting on her, what secrets her mom possessed and had never shared.

Robbie wrapped her frozen body up in a knitted throw and listened to the rhythm of the rain pelting in a steady patter on the windows. She gave into her sorrow and let it envelop her mind, allowing the deluge of tears to flow freely down her cheeks. Exhausted and emotionally battered past the point where anything made much sense, she fell into a restless sleep. Her eyes slid shut with the hope that when she opened them, this night would have been nothing more than a dream, she'd wake up in the morning, open her eyes, and everything would be normal again.