Chapter 1: Linda
The late Mrs Hansen surveyed the damage as she carefully picked her way through the path of metal scraps leading to the core of the destruction. She filed past the various medical personnel and found the way to her son. He was being strapped onto a stretcher. His eyes were closed, an oxygen mask was fixed over his mouth, and a neck brace was secured around his neck. Doctors and paramedics were milling around him, desperately trying to keep him alive.
'Well,' Linda began, leaning casually against the side of the car, cigarette in mouth. 'What do you have to say to yourself?'
Robbie's eyes shot open. 'Mom?!' He began to struggle in straps around him.
The paramedic saw the struggling, and found that the patient was conscious. 'Hey, it's okay, we'll call your Mom soon.'
'My Mom's dead!' Robbie wheezed, having trouble breathing.
'Confusion,' the paramedic noted. 'Can you tell me what your name is?'
'Robbie,' he began weakly. 'Robbie Hansen.'
One of the doctors had found his wallet and proceeded to use the details to call the Hansen residence.
'All right, Robbie,' the paramedic began, fixing an oxygen mask over his face. 'Relax, you're on your way to hospital now.'
As the stretcher carrying him moved, his mother followed. 'Robbie, don't speak. Just listen.' Robbie turned his head and looked again at his mother. She looked the same as he had last seen her alive - dressed in the same pastel green skirt and jacket, the same strings of three pearls around her neck.
'Now, dear,' she began again, taking another puff of her cigarette. 'Let me explain a few things to you. You got hurt very badly on that bike of yours. So badly, in fact, that you are slowly slipping into a coma.' She waited for the shock to sink in. 'On this side, we tend to call it the waiting room for the next room. In order to leave it the way you came in, you have to will yourself to wake up. It can't be a sort of, "Yeah, I wanna wake up," you really have to want to.'
Robbie just stared at his mom. She sat there, talking to him so offhandedly, as if she were discussing the weather with him and not his impending death.
'By the way, dear, if you get the chance to go back again, do something for me. Try and watch the sunrise once in a while. That's one thing you really miss over here.'
She waved him goodbye as she faded away before his eyes. Robbie wondered whether he had received any trauma to the head as the world around him too began to fade away, into the surprisingly more comfortable blackness he had been enveloped into some minutes earlier.
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The late Mrs Hansen surveyed the damage as she carefully picked her way through the path of metal scraps leading to the core of the destruction. She filed past the various medical personnel and found the way to her son. He was being strapped onto a stretcher. His eyes were closed, an oxygen mask was fixed over his mouth, and a neck brace was secured around his neck. Doctors and paramedics were milling around him, desperately trying to keep him alive.
'Well,' Linda began, leaning casually against the side of the car, cigarette in mouth. 'What do you have to say to yourself?'
Robbie's eyes shot open. 'Mom?!' He began to struggle in straps around him.
The paramedic saw the struggling, and found that the patient was conscious. 'Hey, it's okay, we'll call your Mom soon.'
'My Mom's dead!' Robbie wheezed, having trouble breathing.
'Confusion,' the paramedic noted. 'Can you tell me what your name is?'
'Robbie,' he began weakly. 'Robbie Hansen.'
One of the doctors had found his wallet and proceeded to use the details to call the Hansen residence.
'All right, Robbie,' the paramedic began, fixing an oxygen mask over his face. 'Relax, you're on your way to hospital now.'
As the stretcher carrying him moved, his mother followed. 'Robbie, don't speak. Just listen.' Robbie turned his head and looked again at his mother. She looked the same as he had last seen her alive - dressed in the same pastel green skirt and jacket, the same strings of three pearls around her neck.
'Now, dear,' she began again, taking another puff of her cigarette. 'Let me explain a few things to you. You got hurt very badly on that bike of yours. So badly, in fact, that you are slowly slipping into a coma.' She waited for the shock to sink in. 'On this side, we tend to call it the waiting room for the next room. In order to leave it the way you came in, you have to will yourself to wake up. It can't be a sort of, "Yeah, I wanna wake up," you really have to want to.'
Robbie just stared at his mom. She sat there, talking to him so offhandedly, as if she were discussing the weather with him and not his impending death.
'By the way, dear, if you get the chance to go back again, do something for me. Try and watch the sunrise once in a while. That's one thing you really miss over here.'
She waved him goodbye as she faded away before his eyes. Robbie wondered whether he had received any trauma to the head as the world around him too began to fade away, into the surprisingly more comfortable blackness he had been enveloped into some minutes earlier.
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