Adam silently admired the imposing building he was walking towards. Large, glass-covered walls towered up and up; if Adam hadn't been in such a hurry, he would have had to tilt his head backwards to take it in in its entirety. The letters 'HYATT REGENCY CHICAGO' flaunted in capitals on the roof of the marquee that was topped with four glass pyramids. Adam strode towards the main entrance situated under the marquee in big steps, passing a stretch limo that was awaiting valet parking.
Before he pushed open the doors that led into the hotel, he looked at his watch. Five past one—he was just a few minutes late. Entering the lobby, large, dark gray stone tiles directed visitors to a set of stairs that opened into an spacious area which was accentuated by trees towering over groups of lounge suites with differently colored seat covers at regular intervals. Adam looked around to see if he could spot Joan anywhere.
And surely, there she was, sitting in one of the lounge chairs, leafing through some sort of brochure, more out of need to not get bored than out of interest, it seemed. Adam stopped at the top of the stairs for two seconds to study her. The first thing he noticed was that she had cut her hair; it was now at a length that stopped just below the shoulders with choppy layers in the front. She was dressed in a light gray pair of loose-fitting suit pants and a black overcoat, looking strikingly beautiful, just the way his photographic memory would always depict her.
He almost had to force himself to start walking towards her. He could stand here and stare at her all day. He approached her and greeted her with a casual, "Hey," to announce his presence. It felt uncannily like any other greeting all those years ago, back in high school.
Joan looked up when she heard the once so familiar voice coming from next to her. How could she have gotten so engrossed in a hotel leaflet that she didn't notice Adam approaching? But maybe it hadn't been the brochure but the reminiscing daydream that had kept her attention away from her actual surroundings.
"Hi," she greeted Adam back, getting up and quickly taking in his choice of clothes. Dark blue jeans peeked out from underneath an open black, knee-length coat. He wore a dark red shirt and an anthracite suit jacket beneath a knitted, woolen scarf in different colors. With a jolt she remembered the scarf. It was that scarf, the one she had knitted for him in high school.
She half gaped at him, taking one end of the scarf into her hand, lifting it slightly. "Oh my God, you kept the scarf?"
Adam looked slightly sheepish, smiling faintly. "Yeah, I liked it so much. And since winters in Chicago manage to turn you into an ice block as soon as you leave the house, I've grown to really appreciate it."
Joan didn't know what to say. She released the hold on the scarf and took in his appearance once more. This Adam she wasn't familiar with—Business-Adam. It gave him a solemn, sophisticated edge, one she didn't exactly dislike. But in her mind, a part of Adam would always stay that loose-fitting jeans and hoodie-wearing type with a beanie on his head. The memory caught her unawares and she had to smile despite herself.
Adam looked at her enquiringly. "What are you smiling at?"
Caught in the act! Joan thought. "Oh, nothing. It's just..." She indicated his attire. "... this is a different look from the hoodies and beanies."
"Oh, right. I had to go to the office before I came here, we had a last minute meeting. Deadlines to meet, you know."
Joan nodded. "Yeah, I can imagine."
Adam turned his torso towards the entrance. "So, shall we go?"
"Yes, sure," Joan replied and they both went down the stairs to leave the hotel.
The cold air outside hit Joan like a brick wall. It was March, by all accounts the beginning of spring in most states, but in Chicago the wind chill made the 30-something degrees feel more like 15. She wrapped her own stripy scarf tighter around her neck, so that no bare skin below her chin was exposed to the cold air. She didn't think she could ever get used to this kind of cold, and she briefly wondered why Adam had chosen to make it his home.
Adam was skillfully navigating them away from the busy main streets, following less busy back streets that still held a certain flair that she couldn't remember any other city she had visited having. Maybe it was those round street lamps, the Chicago skyline, the distinct but not unpleasant smell of Lake Michigan and the rattling of the El overhead.
"So, where are we going?" she asked inquisitively.
Adam smiled a mysterious smile and raised his eyebrows. "You'll see."
"Oh, you're such a—" Joan started to say, but whatever she had meant to finish the sentence with was interrupted by a loud crashing noise. Both Adam and Joan's heads shot up to look in the direction of the noise, which had come from the crossing ahead. The sounds of metal tearing apart and glass breaking were ebbing away, but from the sight of things, a black SUV had run headlong into the side of a red sedan full force. Smoke was billowing from the sedan's hood, shattered glass and metal shards were scattered around the two cars.
Both Joan and Adam didn't have to think twice, they started running the few yards to the scene of the accident to see if they could help. This being a quieter street, there weren't many passers-by around. Adam quickly looked around if anyone had already called an ambulance. He saw a middle-aged man talking on his cell phone and reached him just when he was hanging up, asking him, "You call an ambulance?"
The man nodded. "Yeah, they said they'll be here as fast as they can, but that it might take a while."
Joan had already run up to the sedan's driver's side, where a young woman with a huge gash on her forehead from which blood was freely seeping down her face was sitting. She didn't seem to be conscious. Joan tried first opening the driver's side car door and then the passenger's side, but the impact must have warped the car body in such a way that the doors were jammed. Joan ran around the car again and knocked on the driver's side window, trying to get the woman's attention. "Miss? Hello, Miss?" she yelled urgently, but the woman didn't respond.
Looking around, she thought quickly. Smoke was still rising from the hood and a smell of burnt fuel and plastic stung in her nose as she ran around the car again. She picked up a piece of scrap metal lying close by and swung it into the car's passenger side's window with as much force as she could muster. The window didn't shatter on her first try and Joan swore under her breath.
With more force, she hit the window again, and this time it shattered apart into a thousand tiny glass fragments that crumbled into the inside of the car. Joan used her hand that she now covered with her coat sleeve to remove the few shards remaining around the window frame. Once accomplished, Joan leaned into the car and carefully shook the woman's shoulder. "Miss? Can you hear me?"
The woman's eyes blinked open, confusion on her face. When she lifted her head, she winced with pain. "What happened?" she asked confused.
Joan's voice was urgent. "You were in a car accident. Are you hurt?"
The woman gingerly tried to move arms and legs and her face contorted again when she moved her left arm. "My arm hurts. And I can't feel my legs," she said, slightly panicky.
"Don't worry, you're gonna be fine. Help is on the way," Joan tried to reassure the woman. The numb legs sure were a warning sign for a possible spine or neck injury. Joan remembered how precarious they could be and that you shouldn't move accident victims until you were sure they didn't have any. She instructed the woman, "Don't try to move. I'll get help. I'll be right back, okay?"
"No! Don't leave me!" The woman cried, suddenly scared.
"I'll come back, I promise," Joan told her with conviction in her tone. She pulled her head and torso back out the passenger window and looked around, her eyes searching for Adam.
She found him dragging a limp body from the black SUV, together with the man who was helping. She jogged over to Adam and got there just as they put the man gingerly down on the ground at a safe distance from the cars. Out of breath, Joan said urgently, "Adam, there's a woman trapped in the other car. The doors are jammed and... and I think she might have a spine injury. She says her legs are numb."
Adam looked at the man who had been helping him. He was kneeling over the accident victim they had just rescued from the car, checking vital signs and breathing. He looked like he knew what he was doing. Adam's and his gaze met for a second and the man told Adam, "I have this covered. Go help the woman."
Adam nodded once and Joan and him went running back to the sedan. Adam tried to open the car doors but didn't have any more luck than Joan. Joan leaned in again through the passenger side window. The woman looked at Joan, and Joan thought it was a good sign that she was still conscious. "See, I told you I would be back. What's your name?"
"Linda," the woman croaked. "Melinda, actually, but everyone calls me Linda."
"I'm Joan," Joan said. She indicated Adam rummaging around outside. "That's Adam outside, we're going to help get you out of here."
Just at that moment, a small flame erupted from below the car's hood. Joan heard Adam's pressing voice from behind her. "Joan, we need to get her out of the car, it could blow any minute. I need to smash the driver's side window. Can you cover her with this?"
Adam held out his coat to Joan, who got out of the car and took the coat before she leaned inside the car again. "Linda, we need to smash the driver's side window. I'll put this over your head, okay?"
Linda nodded weakly and Joan carefully placed the woolen coat over Linda's head before she retreated out of the car's interior. "Go!" she yelled at Adam to indicate he could start. Having found a crowbar-like metal rod somewhere, Adam used it to hit the window with one end, first too carefully, then with enough force for the window pane to fall apart into tiny pieces that crumbled to the concrete outside and spattered all over Linda, who was safely covered by Adam's coat.
Adam carefully removed it from the woman's head, who looked at him with panicky eyes, now having noticed the flames coming from the car's hood and realizing the danger she was in. Joan had appeared back inside the car through the passenger window. Adam was leaning through the driver's side window, asking, "Joan, can you unfasten the seatbelt? We need to get her out of here."
"Hang on," Joan replied, searching for the plastic release button, fumbling around with her fingers to find it next to the driver's seat. While she did, she told Adam, "Her name is Linda."
Adam looked at the woman, trying not to be overwhelmed by all the blood on her face and clothes from the gushing head wound. "All right, Linda. We need to get you out of here, and the only way is through this window. Do you think you can make that work?" He looked at her questioningly despite the seriousness of the situation.
Linda looked troubled. "I can't move my legs," she admitted.
"Okay," Adam said. Looking at Joan, who had managed to pry the seatbelt buckle from its retainer, he instructed her, "I'll grab her torso and you try to get her legs. Can you do that?"
"Yes, I'll try," Joan said.
Adam slung his arms underneath Linda's armpits and drew her towards him, so that her back was facing him. As carefully as possible, he started to drag Linda's body through the window. Good thing she was a petite, slim woman. Joan tried freeing Linda's legs from the foot well, but there was resistance when she tugged at the right leg.
"Adam, I think her leg is stuck," came Joan's muffled voice from the car's interior.
"Damn!" The curse slipped from Adam's mouth. "Can you get it loose?" he asked Joan.
"Hang on." Joan wriggled her body inside the car another notch to try and reach the foot well. She tried to tug at Linda's right leg, but something was holding it in place; possibly the fabric of her pants had hooked itself around one of the pedals. Joan tried to grope around in the foot well to determine what exactly the problem was, but she couldn't reach it.
She was painfully aware that time was running out. Joan realized that the only way for her to accomplish anything was to scramble inside the car completely. She had been reluctant to, but there was no other way, so she did.
Once inside, she crawled with her torso down towards the space below the steering wheel, which wasn't an easy feat with Linda's legs still blocking the way. Joan felt around with her hands—and sure enough—the hem of Linda's pants had intertwined with the accelerator pedal. Joan tried to pry it loose, and with a sound of tearing fabric, the hold on Linda's leg was finally released. Joan pulled herself upright. "Start pulling," she instructed Adam, which he did. Joan guided Linda's legs out the window as best as she could from the inside, helping Adam with the load of Linda's body. Having gotten the leg free was half the battle, Adam had Linda out the window in no time.
More flames appeared from the car's hood now. Through the open car window, Joan could see Adam carrying Linda away from the car in his arms, yelling, "Joan, get the hell out of there!"
Which was what she did, but getting out through a car door window wasn't that easy with no one there to help you. Joan wasn't aware of the few hissing sounds that came from the underside of the car. Sounds that you usually heard when fire was coming into contact with solvents and other highly flammable material.
Just as Joan had gotten her legs free of the window and struggled to her feet to run a few steps away from the scene, she heard an ear-splitting explosion, felt its searing heat on her back, and a split second later felt its force lifting her from the ground, propelling her forward. It was all she could do to throw herself to the hard concrete and roll to her side, the way she had learned in self-defense classes she had taken two years ago.
She felt pain shooting through her hip as it collided with the ground; adrenaline quickly numbing it. Something collided with her back, pieces of stray debris were landing next to her. Joan groaned and then lay still for a few merciful seconds.
The explosion had happened without warning. Adam had tumbled forward a step, trying not to let Linda slip from his grip. He was far enough away to not be hit by the blast or any flying parts of wreckage, but he hadn't seen or heard Joan since he had left her in the car and carried Linda away.
Adam placed her gingerly on the ground a few feet away from a row of parking cars. He laid her down on her back, removed his suit jacket and draped it over her. She looked at him with an exhausted, pained look in her eyes. With urgency in his voice, Adam said to her, "I need to look for Joan. I'll be back, okay?"
Linda nodded almost imperceptibly and Adam got up from his crouching position. He focused all his attention on Joan, looking in the direction of the explosion. Had she gotten hurt? She must have been much closer to the blast than himself. God, please! Let her be okay! He sprinted towards the smoldering, still burning wreckage, shouting her name. "Joan! Joan!"
He saw her lying on the ground a few yards from the sedan—or what was left of it. When he reached Joan, she was lying on her side, small, bleeding cuts on her face in a few places. Adam dropped to his knees next to her, calling her name again. She slowly struggled into a sitting position. "Adam," she exclaimed.
"Joan, are you all right?" Worry and panic mingled in Adam's voice. Joan gingerly moved her hand to her face where the cuts and bruises began to sting. When she withdrew her hand, it was slightly bloody from where it had touched the open wounds. Her hip also throbbed on her right side, but she didn't think anything was broken.
She looked at Adam, whose face was contorted in a grimace of shock and concern. "Yeah, I think I'm okay."
Joan tried to get up with a moan and felt Adam's arm steadying her. She limped more than walked to where Adam had left Linda on the ground, with Adam hugging her waist for support. Her hip must have taken most of the brunt when she had fallen to the ground, it hurt with every step she took, but the pain was still bearable.
They went to a car parked on the curb, where Adam placed Joan in a sitting position, so she was leaning with her back to the car's front tire. "Rest here," he simply said, fairly sure that Joan was okay enough to be left along for a few minutes.
Joan nodded and said, "I'll be okay. Go look after Linda."
She leaned her back against the cold rubber and metal of the car's tire, trying to find the position that her hip would hurt least in when she heard the ambulance approaching. She watched Adam leaning over Linda's figure on the ground, saying something to her. To any bystander, he might be looking like he had the situation completely under control, but having been his girlfriend for almost three years, there were some signs that she still could read after all these years of separation. Going through college and working in a tough job might have given him a confidence she hadn't yet seen in him, but the way he drove his hand through his hair or rubbed his eyebrow with his fingers told her that he was just as nervous and scared as the next guy.
When the approaching ambulance stopped as soon as it reached the scene of the accident, Joan's eyes followed Adam running towards it, talking to a blond paramedic with spiky hair who first got his emergency medical kit from the back and then a plastic carrying board and a neck collar.
The two of them jogged back to an unmoving Linda, the paramedic crouching next to her, addressing her. From the urgency on his face and the movements he was making, Joan could discern that things surrounding the young woman seemed to have deteriorated.
"Please let her be okay," she begged silently. She lifted her head slightly to look up at the sky, to address Him. In her mind, she told him, "I know you can hear me, and I know that you are listening, so I beg of you: Please let this young woman live, and please let her be okay. I don't want anyone else to have to go through what Kevin went through—is still going through. No one deserves that, do you hear me!" Her imaginary voice was getting angrier with every word. Why would God ever allow so much injustice in the world?
She didn't really expect an immediate answer, didn't expect him to turn up. His visits had become more and more infrequent over the years, but he had always stuck around one way or another. Just enough to let her know that her faith in Him shouldn't ever falter and that good ripples still existed. The assignments had become less, but every now and then he would be there, asking for something or other. And somewhere along the way, she had learned not to let it distract her, annoy her or make her embarrass herself the way it used to. Experience and going through life after high school had taught her that, and she was immensely thankful for it.
But still, in moments like this, she would question His motives, ask how He could let certain things happen the way they did. And sometimes him telling her that everything happened for a reason just wasn't good enough.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, sending another silent prayer to Him. When she opened them again, the paramedic was checking Linda's vital signs. He then exchanged a few quick words with Adam, who told him something and then pointed at her. Joan couldn't hear what they were saying from the few feet's distance away, but she could very well guess what Adam was telling him: That the other accident victims, including Linda, should be taken care of first, him and Joan could wait.
Not taking her eyes off Adam, she saw him coming towards her. He first crouched down next to her, then lowered himself to sit down, also leaning his back against the parked car. He turned his head to look at her and explained, "They're sending another ambulance."
Joan looked back at him. "Is Linda okay?"
Adam frowned his forehead slightly. "Honestly? I don't know. She lost consciousness. But she's in good hands now. There's nothing more we can do."
Adam was amazed how Joan could sit here, clearly in pain herself, but still worry about others more than herself. She had always been this selfless if push came to shove, even in high school. And she had always been that fighter, not giving up, always looking for ways to help or resolve a situation. Hadn't that been what he had loved about her, one of those tiny little things that had made him feel completely attracted to her? When had he lost the ability to appreciate her for what she was?
He looked into her eyes and saw the pain in them, the physical pain. "Are you hurting?" he asked her.
Joan smiled at him meekly. "Nothing I can't handle."
"You're gonna be fine," he told her. How lame a thing to say was that?
Joan's face was suddenly lightening up slightly when she said sarcastically, "I think they're gonna drug me up pretty good. If that's not something to look forward to. There's something to be said for painkillers, you know?"
Adam couldn't help but smile a small smile. He felt Joan's hand reaching for his, turning it so its palm faced upwards. There was a deep cut right across it, blood and grime and dirt all around it. Joan's brow furrowed. "Ouch, that's one ugly cut. I think that'll need stitches."
Adam hadn't even noticed it until now. He flexed his fingers and suddenly had to wince at the pain shooting through his hand. "Maybe I'll try some of those painkillers myself," he joked.
Just then, the second ambulance arrived, its sirens blaring and casting red and blue light flashes all around. Both Joan and Adam watched it come to a halt close-by. Adam got up and extended his good hand towards Joan. "Come on. You think you can hobble over there?"
Joan took his hand and let herself be slowly pulled up, her face contorting with pain for a second. She put her arm around his shoulder and together they made their way to the ambulance.
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