Haven’t been down this way in a while. Gonna commute for a couple days to do this small project down by the Sound. The sun is just dawning over the horizon as I pull up to a red light. The sun’s sky path is marked with a cloud X just above it in the sky. The light turns green. The first car in line is slow to move. Right behind him is another motorist that gestures radically and lays on the horn. Just like that we’re moving again. The news radio is on. The NY traffic report comes on, and it sounds like a nightmare. Delay after delay on top of delay. The reporter says that the wreck has been cleared, but the damage is done. The weather guy comes on joking. It will be unseasonably warm with near record highs. Now comes the business news. The Dow is sitting at like 20,600. I remember it being a big deal when it cracked 10,000. The line of cars I’m in heading south in on route 58 in is moving slow, and I have to take a piss. We could be doing 50 mph, but instead it’s only like 35. I’m aggravated. Up here on the right at the orchard there’s a parking lot. No reason to not pull in there, and get some relief.
The lot is empty. Pulling all the way to the far side in back there’s privacy. Right back in the saddle, and off again. Good, those slow pokes are gone, and I feel better. At the exit of the parking lot I stop. Looking north up 58 it appears as though the lane is clear. Hitting the accelerator to go I get a strange premonition that I missed something. There’s a sudden numbness in the ears. A sense? I don’t know. Really quick the air goes silent as my glance darts left. It appears as though the side window is blurred. There’s a horn blare followed by the unmistakable sound of the rubber, the road! Holy crap! On coming traffic!? The sided window blur becomes clear, and the horn scream goes silent. Time seems to freeze. A half life time delay ends with pulverizing intensity. A loud sick body boosh and sprinkle blast of spider crashed glass splinter spray explodes all over, and on to me. Moving now by force, the vehicle is screeching in an un-steered way of momentous collision inertia. There’s a constriction squeeze on my torso, left shoulder, and right arm. It’s tight. The compression gets wicked tight with searing pressure, then release. Silence with a sharp crack. More silence tainted with soft stress whispers of a thermal variety; like a heat register heating or cooling. Even more extended silence now interrupted by a drop bong as if a mason jar was dropped on a brick, and a light bulb popped. The accident is over basically before my awareness of it starting.
In the next assessment moments I wondered if I’d been hurt. Moving, moving, I’m moving. I can turn. The legs move. The arms move too. I can turn, but the door is crashed stuck; it won’t open. Focusing now on the interior, it appears unrecognizable. I get the seat belt off. The passenger side door is reachable, and it opens. With my feet now on the ground surreality sets in. Everything seems cinematic. Not everything is in focus. There are big confusion questions beating and repeating in the mind. “What happened?” “What?!” “What’s Happened!?”
A mangeled gray, green, blue pickup, with a hiss, stands stopped in the roadway. It’s in the middle straddling a double yellow line. The drivers’ seat occupant looks invisible in smoky silhouette. He’s gaining frantic. He’s frantic! He’s trying to get out. It’s his head! The head is open across the top, and across the face. I realize that there are others here parked at the scene. A responding motorist is imploring the injured pickup driver to stay down, to stay still. “Sir. Sir! Stay still! Stay still! There’s an ambulance on the way.” A man is standing in front of me, and a woman is right beside me. She says, “You’ve been in an accident.” and he says, “You’re in shock.” I hear myself say, “I looked to see… What!? I didn’t see…” The sound of my voice trails out. Then these words are known, but I can’t tell where they came from. “Time is short. Recognize. The eyes see, the mind is blind. You may not have seen it, but it was right there.”