Krystan

The Reluctant Savior


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      “Carmella Ronelle Brown, cum laude,” echoed over the PA system at the TWU auditorium. As she walked across the stage to shake Dean Davis’ hand and receive her diploma, Carmella’s pulse quickened with excitement. This moment in time, this very moment, was what she had worked so diligently for the past five years to experience. Now it was here, and she was a bit anxious as she walked toward the dean. Mustn’t trip on the gown, she reminded herself as she had almost reached the podium. Stretch out your hand, Carmella, look confident, grasp the dean’s hand firmly, thank her as you receive your diploma. Good! Well done, perfectly executed!

      “Congratulations, Ms. Brown!” Dean Davis smiled as she shook Carmella’s hand and handed her diploma to her. “I know you’ve worked very hard for this achievement, and to graduate with honors is just splendid! We all are very proud of you, and wish you the best in your career and continuing studies. We hope to hear great things about you out there in Portland. Best of luck to you!”

      Lots to process in about thirty seconds. Five years pinpointed in that small window of time. Carmella took it in as well as she could. Several of her friends in the audience and in the graduation group clapped and cheered for her in lieu of any family. She was popular with her classmates, who had supported her through the whole ordeal, including the nine months with Demarius! That event had made her kind of a heroine with her friends, to have a baby and still continue in school. None of them asked much about it, as she had simply told them it was a surrogate pregnancy for money to finish school. They just admired her determination to finish, so it was a joyous event when Carmella Brown took that diploma in her hand and waved it over her head in a gesture of triumph. They loved it. “You go, girl!” someone yelled from the audience, while several more whistled and clapped even louder. Carmella took it all in, trying to imprint the moment in her memory, so that it would always be with her.

      As she stepped down from the stage and walked in front of the faculty, Norma Reyes stood up with tears streaming down her face and gave her a big hug. “We’ll all miss you, Carmella,” she whispered in her ear, while placing something in her hand. “Several of us got together and wanted you to have this—to help you get to Portland and all,” she smiled through the tears. “You’re a winner, Carmella…I know you’ll always do well,” she added as a queue of graduates formed behind Carmella, forcing her to continue on to her seat.

      Carmella sat down in a state of total elation. She was so proud of the diploma she held in her hand that she literally wept for joy. It felt like five long, hard years had just evaporated from her body, leaving her with a lightness and optimism that she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. She literally was not the timid, slightly awkward, completely unsophisticated young girl who had started the nursing program five years ago. As she sat there, she felt confident, more resilient, more articulate, and certainly far more experienced than that starry-eyed country girl who began the program half a decade ago.

      Then she saw the folded-up piece of paper in her other hand and began to open it, with the hopeful expectancy of a child on Christmas morning. It was a check, and there was her name on it…Carmella Brown. Next to her name was a 2 and four 0s. Two thousand dollars! That was more money than she had ever seen at one time, with the exception of her surrogate soiree with Gabriel Franklin. She was ecstatic! That would be enough to get her old 1982 Toyota Corolla in good-enough shape to make the 1,600-mile trip to Portland later that summer, and maybe enough left over for a couple of nights’ lodging on the way. With her new job starting on Monday, Carmella now had every reason to feel a bit more secure and optimistic. Life was good, and would be even better once the next two hundred graduates had received their diplomas and she could get out of there.

      She and several of her graduating friends had planned a cookout and swimming party at Lake Lewisville, which would be on her way back to Dallas from Denton. The weather was sunny and warm, and she couldn’t wait to get down to the little beach there and just relax by the water’s edge. She wasn’t that big on swimming, since she had never really learned as a child, but one of her friends had a boat and promised to stop by and take them out on the lake for a little ride later that afternoon. Carmella was really looking forward to that—she had never been on a boat before, and was excited at the thought of cruising around the lake in a motorboat.

      As her thoughts returned to the graduation ceremony, Carmella soon realized that this was going to take longer than she thought. They were only through the Es, and it was already 3:00 p.m. She had hoped to be on the beach by 4, but the chances of that occurring were diminishing by the second. Will you please hurry up? she thought to herself as she watched the seemingly endless queue lined to hear their name called and receive their diplomas. I’m leaving at 4 regardless, she decided. I’ll just have to make up some excuse as to why I had to leave early, if anyone asks. Yeah, that’s a good plan, she thought. I can surely endure another hour!

      *****

      As she turned the key in the ignition, Carmella looked down at her watch. It was 4:15. Not too bad, she thought, as the engine engaged. I’ll be at the beach by 4:30 if I hurry. As she made her way south on Bell Avenue over toward Fort Worth Drive, she scanned for police, and pushed the speedometer up to 45 mph. Surely they won’t stop me for being just 5 miles over the speed limit, she rationalized as she made a quick right onto Eagle Drive. Fort Worth Drive was four lanes and just a block away, so she could crank it up a bit once she had turned south onto that road. Then it was just a short ways to 35E, the interstate connecting Denton to Dallas.

      As Carmella reached the onramp and merged onto the interstate, she looked down at her watch again—now it was 4:22. That’s ok, she thought. I should still make it close to 4:30 if I do 70 all the way! That was the last thought she remembered, for as she looked up, the eighteen-wheeler in front of her had inexplicably slowed (later she learned, to avoid hitting a dog who had strayed out onto the freeway), and she couldn’t slow down fast enough. As she swerved to try to miss the truck, the end of the trailer struck the passenger side of Carmella’s Toyota, crushing the right door and shattering the windshield. Before she could think or react any further, her head hit the steering wheel. She felt the car spinning out of control and shards of glass striking her face, chest, and right arm. Blood was running into her right eye, but the red quickly faded to black as she lost consciousness.

      Fortunately, there was no one immediately behind her car, as it finally spun off the highway and into the grassy median. The entire right side of the Corolla was crushed, with the hood bent grotesquely into the shape of something resembling an eagle’s beak, with the front bent down and the back of the hood thrust up toward the windshield. Carmella’s body was slumped over the wheel, while a four-inch gash on her forehead slowly dripped blood down her cheeks and neck.

      It all happened so quickly, but the instant she lost consciousness, Carmella became aware of everything that was happening, but in a very different way than through her usual senses. She was aware of her body lying there in the car, but simultaneously, she was aware of the truck driver’s anxiety as he raced over to render aide. She sensed the uneasy curiosity of several drivers farther behind who had seen the incident from a distance and now pulled off the road to assist. She heard the ambulance sirens in the distance, but somehow was not in her body at all. In fact, she felt above it all, looking down at the wreckage and intense emotions of the onlookers. Her body seemed very insignificant at this point, just lying there, but not housing her consciousness at all. As she looked at the overall scene, Carmella realized that she felt no pain. To her surprise, she felt an unusual lightness and calm peace that was beyond anything she had ever experienced before. It was as if she were a part of the entire scene, sensing a perfect harmony between the sky, the grass, the trees, and even the passersby who had stopped to help. She heard a paramedic yell, “Get the board and a neck brace!” as he pried open the driver’s door. She watched them apply the brace and then place her face up on a rigid board, which was then strapped to a gurney. Carmella felt as if she were floating above the entire scene as an observer. Her body seemed insignificant to her as she watched an EMT check her pulse BP, and pupils. “Pulse, 150 and shallow, BP 100/60. Patient is unresponsive; left pupil is fixed and dilated. Radio St. Paul ER and tell them we’re bringin’ in a head injury. Have ’em get an OR ready and call in the neurosurgeon. Looks like a possible subdural hematoma—can’t tell extent of other injuries.