Crossroads by David Faux

I stood at a crossroads one Thursday night outside an emergency room and prayed for someone to live. Turns out God had bigger plans.

Earlier that afternoon, my then girlfriend Prajna left in her Toyota Tercell a few minutes before me for the drive from Haiku to Kahului. I followed in my car and we expected to meet at theatre rehearsal. A mile or so from home I approached Maliko Gulch where the Hana Highway dipped down and through. The driver of an oncoming car was waving for traffic to slow down. When I got around the corner there was commotion, cars stopped, and I saw that there was an accident. Then I saw Prajna’s car up against the guardrail. I inched forward with traffic around another car facing the same way with the hood crumpled and the smell of hot engine coolant in the air. As I passed Prajna’s car I saw her. We made eye contact and she cried out to me.

As clear as I remember this whole afternoon, I have no memory of parking my car or going to her. The next thing I remember was that I was at her side. I took a tissue from a woman and held it to Prajna’s head where her sunglasses had broken and cut her. Her little car had been struck hard at the front driver’s side corner and was totaled. The windshield was smashed and the front wheel was bent down. Behind her car facing the same way was the heavy European sedan that had struck her. Prajna told me that it had crossed the center line and hit her. She also told me her leg was broken. I stayed kneeling by her side and heard sirens.

Soon there were emergency vehicles everywhere. Droning diesel engine idles dominated the sounds. Firemen had no trouble pulling the car door open. Getting Prajna out of her car and onto a gurney was difficult and painful. I followed the ambulance to the hospital running red lights right along with it. When I got to the emergency room I knew I needed to get in and see her. “Girlfriend” wouldn’t sound good enough. I strode through the open doors that only authorized personnel could pass and for some reason I announced that Prajna was my fiancé. The staff did take me seriously and even though I was ushered out of the room they seemed concerned for me too. I used a pay phone to call Prajna’s brother. I explained that she was banged up but would be okay. Prajna’s mom and brother got there soon after.

We began a long wait as doctors came and updated us. Yes, her left femur was broken and they had to put pins in it to fix the position. They couldn’t use a general anesthetic but would give her enough meds to dull some pain and make her forget the rest. Friends came to check on us. Late in the evening a doctor came out and told us there might be a problem.

They were afraid there could be bone fragments in Prajna’s blood. That could be fatal.

She could die.

I got a cigarette from a friend and went outside.

We had been dating for just over six months. I had had girlfriends before that I thought at the time were serious, but not like this. I had been single and lonely for years and was afraid to do anything about it. I tended to be very codependent in relationships, defining myself by them. The past couple relationships I had were not especially healthy. And when they ended I never took it well. The pain and grief of the loss of someone was not something I knew how to deal with other than chain smoke and listen to depressing music.

When I finally started a relationship with her, it was different. We expressed our love, and marriage seemed like it would eventually happen. I let myself fall in love again.

And now I might lose her, not to her walking out of my life, but to a drunk driver.

So here, outside the emergency room that night, I felt the crossroads underneath me.

If Prajna died, I could be the dark brooding loner forever. Was that what I wanted? People would point to me in awe at the tragic coolness. I could be the epitome of coolness with the long black coat and icy scowl. I’d write dark poetry and have countless albeit distant admirers.

No matter that I hardly had the discipline to write. I was more used to wallowing in self-pity and medicating with unhealthy bad habits. Here was the thing: The desire to take better care of myself, be a better person and achieve writing goals all came from having Prajna in my life. If I had lost her I would have become an embittered loser with a repulsive attitude.

But I didn’t think about that then. I just thought about the idea of me legitimately becoming the dark loner.

I thought of something else. I remembered what it was like to be lonely. I thought about how before I’d moved out of the bachelor pad, I’d sat on the deck early one morning as the sky started to lighten. I watched the brightest star slowly disappear against the dawn and it was beautiful and moving. I went inside and wrote a quick prose about it, but finished the poem with what had affected me most. I wrote how miserable the whole thing had made me because I did not have someone to share the experience with.

Yes, the dark loner walked with pain. Did I really want that?

So I looked down the other way of the crossroads. Down that way, I saw me giving up that desire to be alone. I was truly sharing my life with someone. The loner wasn’t there.

I realized I didn’t want a tragedy in my life even if it enhanced my writing and no matter how cool it made me. I wanted Prajna to live. I wanted to walk away from that dark loner and live my life with her. So outside the emergency room, I prayed.

I didn’t want to be lonely any more. I would give up the notion of the dark wanderer forever if I could just have someone in my life. I prayed for Prajna to be in my life.

Is it turned out, Prajna was never in any danger. The doctors were taken aback by Prajna’s irrational talking, asking them if they wanted cream cheese on their bagel. I suppose that delirium can be a symptom of bone fragments in the blood.

Even so, I made that choice at the crossroads that night. I wanted her to live and God answered my prayer that night, not for her, but for me to live.

That prayer was answered. We both lived.

Here we have a story submitted by David Faux! A big thanks to him an all my readers for sharing their stories!

If you want to submit your own story email me at kyauthorspiritborn@gmail.com or check out the submission page here!

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