Echoes Against The Silence
Summary: This very short story, based on "Faith", represents a writing challenge issued to me from Janet. Janet's challenge was for me to write a story showing what could have been going through Chuck and Marissa's minds as they awaited news on Gary's condition during those long hours when Gary was unconscious following being hit by a car on that bridge. The story that follows is a "missing" scene of my interpretation of what Chuck and Marissa could have been thinking.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made. Some of the dialogue that appears in this story is not mine, but belongs to the writer of the Early Edition episode "Faith."
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
Echoes Against The Silence
It was a cold Chicago night. Yet, an exuberant moon radiated the velvet sky sharing glory with a bevy of twinkling stars. There were so many stars out tonight. It looked like a celestial "coming out party" with one arguably bright star gracing center stage just as a hopeful debutante, descending a marble staircase, magnificent in a white gown and shimmering white gloves, is presented to society. The evening held such promise.
Not so for the two men seated in the red car on the bridge. Their nerves were frayed, as frayed as a rope challenged to its very limits. The hero, with his newspaper conspicuously on his lap and eagle eyes trained on the road for the appearance of a black Mercedes, seemed patient. However, his friend was visibly agitated. Sitting in a car parked on a bridge in the middle of the night with the billowing winds howling their frigid intentions wasn't exactly the way to inspire good will.
Chuck complained. What else was new? Chuck was always complaining about something. Tonight he was complaining about giving up a date so that he could sit in his car with Gary at 2 AM waiting for the arrival of the seemingly elusive black Mercedes that The Paper revealed was the catalyst for the drama of disaster. "Motorist Killed By Hit and Run. Incident occurred while changing flat tire" the headline screamed. Still, Chuck remained unconvinced that the event would happen.
"Maybe The Paper is wrong. Maybe there is an atmospheric disturbance in the force." Chuck argued.
Gary was clearly annoyed by his friend's whining. He exited the vehicle and proceeded to the spot where he expected that the black Mercedes would soon appear. "You've lost faith in chance, my friend." Chuck yelled from his car.
"I just have more faith in this, friend." Gary countered.
A moment later, a black Mercedes came barreling down the highway, its wheels burning stubbornly reminiscent of one of those ancient chariots burning along the Egyptian sands. The black Mercedes didn't stop as The Paper had predicted.
"Did you see that?" Gary asked Chuck the surprise peppering his words.
Chuck smirked. "It didn't stop." Chuck added victoriously.
In the millisecond that it took for Gary to check The Paper again, another car, perhaps an instrument of Death, came careening down the highway.
"Gary, look out!" Chuck screamed.
Chuck's blood-curling warning was the last sound Gary heard before he was hit by that car. Gary fell to the ground.
A frightened Chuck rushed to his friend's side. "Hey, he's hurt! I need an ambulance." Chuck called out to the car that had hit Gary. The car had momentarily stopped. However, soon the car sped on its way with its occupants unconcerned about the unconscious man lying on the cold cement. Even in the stillness of the night and his deadly quiet state, Gary's heart was beating forcefully inside of his chest.
A powerful echo against the silence.
* * * * * *
She awoke with a start and sat up in her bed. Some people might wonder whether blind people have the capacity to dream. Do they see images in their subconscious, a kaleidoscope of Technicolor swirling around in their heads? Or, are their dreams a testament of the darkness in which they live, bland and unimaginative? How about nightmares? Do terrifying images explode in a blind person's mind forcing their way through the darkness?
Maybe.
Marissa wasn't sure what happened, but she had felt something strange and upsetting gnawing at her heart. It was quiet in her bedroom. It was even quieter on the streets tonight; no sounds filtered through the air. There was no symphony of noises that had often characterized the busy metropolis. Yet, Marissa sensed that something was wrong, that doom was somehow trapped within the silent hush of a serene night.
The ringing phone let out its alarmed cry. Spike, who had been sleeping on the floor by Marissa's bed, began barking fervently. "It's okay, Spike." She reassured even as her heart told her that things weren't okay. Something was terribly wrong. She could feel it. With a palpable feeling of foreboding beating at her psyche, Marissa, her hands shaking slightly, picked up the phone situated on the night stand. "Hello?" Her greeting came out in a faint whisper.
"Marissa?" The familiar voice responded. But that voice sounded different somehow. It sounded careworn, lost, and defeated.
"Chuck? Chuck, what happened?"
"Marissa, it's...it's Gary. He's been...he's hurt, Marissa. We're at Columbia General."
"My God!" She gasped. There was a brief silence as she composed herself. "I'm on my way." Marissa hung up the phone. She sat there on the bed for a moment paralyzed by her fear. Then she removed her Bible off the night stand near by her bed and placed it into her purse which was also seated on the night stand. She arose from the bed and quickly got dressed. She walked back towards the phone, picked it up, and called for a cab.
As she awaited the cab's arrival, Marissa heard echoes against the silence, whisperings of faith and hope. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that Gary would be okay.
* * * * * *
The hospital smelled of sickness and death. These odors not only permeated the air but also seeped into the hearts of those people in the waiting room. For those people, it seemed a constant struggle to cleave to faith when the stoic faces of the doctors and the nurses along with the long and excruciating hours waiting for news fed one's inner turmoil and belief that the worst was imminent.
It had been nearly three hours since Marissa and Spike arrived at the hospital and joined Chuck in the waiting room. Chuck told Marissa that there was no news on Gary except that the doctors confirmed that he was still unconscious. Marissa hugged Chuck. Marissa could feel his body shaking. She wanted to tell him to have faith because Gary was going to be okay, but she sensed that he wasn't ready to hear those words. From what Chuck told her about his conversation with Gary on that bridge prior to Gary's accident, Marissa knew that Chuck was feeling more than worry. She sensed that Chuck felt guilty because he hadn't been very supportive of Gary's need to go on that save.
She was right.
A doctor appeared in the waiting room. The doctor told Marissa and Chuck that Gary was still unconscious but he thought that it would be a good idea if they went to Gary's room for awhile. The doctor believed that the presence of his friends, even in his unconscious state, would be helpful to Gary. Chuck, Marissa, and Spike proceeded to Gary's room.
Gary was lying in the bed, hooked up to monitors. A nurse was writing down some information on a chart. She checked Gary's IV. With her task completed, the nurse left the room. Chuck stared at Gary. Gary looked so pale. Chuck wasn't a religious man, but he found himself saying a prayer that Gary would survive. Chuck also silently apologized to Gary for not being a better friend. He thought about all those times when he and Gary were in college and he had gotten Gary into trouble by convincing his friend to take part in a Fishman scheme that became a debacle. Like the time that they had broken into the Dean's house as a fraternity prank, were caught, and were almost expelled. Or, the time that he had pleaded with Gary to go on a blind date with a girl that had just broken up with her boyfriend because he wanted to go out with the girl's friend and the friend wouldn't go unless her girlfriend also had a date. Gary didn't want to go because he and Genie had only been broken up for a week, but he reluctantly agreed. Then the girl's former boyfriend, a football player, showed up and grabbed Gary by the collar. It took the girl's pleading with her ex not for him to beat Gary to a pulp. Or the times when he had stolen The Paper. But mostly, Chuck thought about how he and Gary were arguing just before that car hit Gary. If Gary...if Gary stayed in this unconscious state or if he died, Chuck would have to live the rest of his life with the memory that the last conversation he had with his best friend was an argument.
Spike was surprisingly calm. The dog was lying by Marissa's feet.
Marissa's sightless eyes glanced in the direction of the sound coming from the monitors, such determined echoes against the silence. She thought about the first time that she met Gary at Strauss & Associates and about when he told her about The Paper. He didn't know what any of it meant, why he had been chosen to carry the burden of knowing the future.
"And what am I supposed to do with it?" Gary had asked.
"You're supposed to do whatever you can." Marissa had responded confidently.
And he did.
Gary answered The Paper's call day after day preventing disasters and saving lives. He was the man of tomorrow whose selflessly gave strangers a tomorrow. Marissa couldn't believe that The Paper that Gary had unquestionably served would have put him in the position to die.
The echoes against the silence became restless, as were the fears that had enveloped the room. Instinctively, Marissa walked towards Chuck. She gently touched his arm and began saying a prayer out loud. Chuck listened quietly for a moment before he joined her in the prayer, his recitation initially awkward as if the words felt uncomfortable coming aloud from his mouth. A few more hours passed. Both Marissa and Chuck oscillated between prayers and talking to Gary hoping that the sounds of hope and faith would lure him back to consciousness. A short while later, Gary jumped up in the bed. Marissa and Chuck let out sighs of relief.
Gary was predictably disoriented and his head felt like it was playing a loud concerto, but he was back. He was alive.
But Gary's drama was just beginning for he was about to learn a lesson about faith, one of the echoes that had whispered against the silence. All that he needed to do was to listen with his heart. And to believe.
The End.
Summary: This very short story, based on "Faith", represents a writing challenge issued to me from Janet. Janet's challenge was for me to write a story showing what could have been going through Chuck and Marissa's minds as they awaited news on Gary's condition during those long hours when Gary was unconscious following being hit by a car on that bridge. The story that follows is a "missing" scene of my interpretation of what Chuck and Marissa could have been thinking.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made. Some of the dialogue that appears in this story is not mine, but belongs to the writer of the Early Edition episode "Faith."
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
Echoes Against The Silence
It was a cold Chicago night. Yet, an exuberant moon radiated the velvet sky sharing glory with a bevy of twinkling stars. There were so many stars out tonight. It looked like a celestial "coming out party" with one arguably bright star gracing center stage just as a hopeful debutante, descending a marble staircase, magnificent in a white gown and shimmering white gloves, is presented to society. The evening held such promise.
Not so for the two men seated in the red car on the bridge. Their nerves were frayed, as frayed as a rope challenged to its very limits. The hero, with his newspaper conspicuously on his lap and eagle eyes trained on the road for the appearance of a black Mercedes, seemed patient. However, his friend was visibly agitated. Sitting in a car parked on a bridge in the middle of the night with the billowing winds howling their frigid intentions wasn't exactly the way to inspire good will.
Chuck complained. What else was new? Chuck was always complaining about something. Tonight he was complaining about giving up a date so that he could sit in his car with Gary at 2 AM waiting for the arrival of the seemingly elusive black Mercedes that The Paper revealed was the catalyst for the drama of disaster. "Motorist Killed By Hit and Run. Incident occurred while changing flat tire" the headline screamed. Still, Chuck remained unconvinced that the event would happen.
"Maybe The Paper is wrong. Maybe there is an atmospheric disturbance in the force." Chuck argued.
Gary was clearly annoyed by his friend's whining. He exited the vehicle and proceeded to the spot where he expected that the black Mercedes would soon appear. "You've lost faith in chance, my friend." Chuck yelled from his car.
"I just have more faith in this, friend." Gary countered.
A moment later, a black Mercedes came barreling down the highway, its wheels burning stubbornly reminiscent of one of those ancient chariots burning along the Egyptian sands. The black Mercedes didn't stop as The Paper had predicted.
"Did you see that?" Gary asked Chuck the surprise peppering his words.
Chuck smirked. "It didn't stop." Chuck added victoriously.
In the millisecond that it took for Gary to check The Paper again, another car, perhaps an instrument of Death, came careening down the highway.
"Gary, look out!" Chuck screamed.
Chuck's blood-curling warning was the last sound Gary heard before he was hit by that car. Gary fell to the ground.
A frightened Chuck rushed to his friend's side. "Hey, he's hurt! I need an ambulance." Chuck called out to the car that had hit Gary. The car had momentarily stopped. However, soon the car sped on its way with its occupants unconcerned about the unconscious man lying on the cold cement. Even in the stillness of the night and his deadly quiet state, Gary's heart was beating forcefully inside of his chest.
A powerful echo against the silence.
* * * * * *
She awoke with a start and sat up in her bed. Some people might wonder whether blind people have the capacity to dream. Do they see images in their subconscious, a kaleidoscope of Technicolor swirling around in their heads? Or, are their dreams a testament of the darkness in which they live, bland and unimaginative? How about nightmares? Do terrifying images explode in a blind person's mind forcing their way through the darkness?
Maybe.
Marissa wasn't sure what happened, but she had felt something strange and upsetting gnawing at her heart. It was quiet in her bedroom. It was even quieter on the streets tonight; no sounds filtered through the air. There was no symphony of noises that had often characterized the busy metropolis. Yet, Marissa sensed that something was wrong, that doom was somehow trapped within the silent hush of a serene night.
The ringing phone let out its alarmed cry. Spike, who had been sleeping on the floor by Marissa's bed, began barking fervently. "It's okay, Spike." She reassured even as her heart told her that things weren't okay. Something was terribly wrong. She could feel it. With a palpable feeling of foreboding beating at her psyche, Marissa, her hands shaking slightly, picked up the phone situated on the night stand. "Hello?" Her greeting came out in a faint whisper.
"Marissa?" The familiar voice responded. But that voice sounded different somehow. It sounded careworn, lost, and defeated.
"Chuck? Chuck, what happened?"
"Marissa, it's...it's Gary. He's been...he's hurt, Marissa. We're at Columbia General."
"My God!" She gasped. There was a brief silence as she composed herself. "I'm on my way." Marissa hung up the phone. She sat there on the bed for a moment paralyzed by her fear. Then she removed her Bible off the night stand near by her bed and placed it into her purse which was also seated on the night stand. She arose from the bed and quickly got dressed. She walked back towards the phone, picked it up, and called for a cab.
As she awaited the cab's arrival, Marissa heard echoes against the silence, whisperings of faith and hope. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that Gary would be okay.
* * * * * *
The hospital smelled of sickness and death. These odors not only permeated the air but also seeped into the hearts of those people in the waiting room. For those people, it seemed a constant struggle to cleave to faith when the stoic faces of the doctors and the nurses along with the long and excruciating hours waiting for news fed one's inner turmoil and belief that the worst was imminent.
It had been nearly three hours since Marissa and Spike arrived at the hospital and joined Chuck in the waiting room. Chuck told Marissa that there was no news on Gary except that the doctors confirmed that he was still unconscious. Marissa hugged Chuck. Marissa could feel his body shaking. She wanted to tell him to have faith because Gary was going to be okay, but she sensed that he wasn't ready to hear those words. From what Chuck told her about his conversation with Gary on that bridge prior to Gary's accident, Marissa knew that Chuck was feeling more than worry. She sensed that Chuck felt guilty because he hadn't been very supportive of Gary's need to go on that save.
She was right.
A doctor appeared in the waiting room. The doctor told Marissa and Chuck that Gary was still unconscious but he thought that it would be a good idea if they went to Gary's room for awhile. The doctor believed that the presence of his friends, even in his unconscious state, would be helpful to Gary. Chuck, Marissa, and Spike proceeded to Gary's room.
Gary was lying in the bed, hooked up to monitors. A nurse was writing down some information on a chart. She checked Gary's IV. With her task completed, the nurse left the room. Chuck stared at Gary. Gary looked so pale. Chuck wasn't a religious man, but he found himself saying a prayer that Gary would survive. Chuck also silently apologized to Gary for not being a better friend. He thought about all those times when he and Gary were in college and he had gotten Gary into trouble by convincing his friend to take part in a Fishman scheme that became a debacle. Like the time that they had broken into the Dean's house as a fraternity prank, were caught, and were almost expelled. Or, the time that he had pleaded with Gary to go on a blind date with a girl that had just broken up with her boyfriend because he wanted to go out with the girl's friend and the friend wouldn't go unless her girlfriend also had a date. Gary didn't want to go because he and Genie had only been broken up for a week, but he reluctantly agreed. Then the girl's former boyfriend, a football player, showed up and grabbed Gary by the collar. It took the girl's pleading with her ex not for him to beat Gary to a pulp. Or the times when he had stolen The Paper. But mostly, Chuck thought about how he and Gary were arguing just before that car hit Gary. If Gary...if Gary stayed in this unconscious state or if he died, Chuck would have to live the rest of his life with the memory that the last conversation he had with his best friend was an argument.
Spike was surprisingly calm. The dog was lying by Marissa's feet.
Marissa's sightless eyes glanced in the direction of the sound coming from the monitors, such determined echoes against the silence. She thought about the first time that she met Gary at Strauss & Associates and about when he told her about The Paper. He didn't know what any of it meant, why he had been chosen to carry the burden of knowing the future.
"And what am I supposed to do with it?" Gary had asked.
"You're supposed to do whatever you can." Marissa had responded confidently.
And he did.
Gary answered The Paper's call day after day preventing disasters and saving lives. He was the man of tomorrow whose selflessly gave strangers a tomorrow. Marissa couldn't believe that The Paper that Gary had unquestionably served would have put him in the position to die.
The echoes against the silence became restless, as were the fears that had enveloped the room. Instinctively, Marissa walked towards Chuck. She gently touched his arm and began saying a prayer out loud. Chuck listened quietly for a moment before he joined her in the prayer, his recitation initially awkward as if the words felt uncomfortable coming aloud from his mouth. A few more hours passed. Both Marissa and Chuck oscillated between prayers and talking to Gary hoping that the sounds of hope and faith would lure him back to consciousness. A short while later, Gary jumped up in the bed. Marissa and Chuck let out sighs of relief.
Gary was predictably disoriented and his head felt like it was playing a loud concerto, but he was back. He was alive.
But Gary's drama was just beginning for he was about to learn a lesson about faith, one of the echoes that had whispered against the silence. All that he needed to do was to listen with his heart. And to believe.
The End.