“Miss. Miss, can you hear me? Are you okay?” the man gently patted Mya’s face.
Annoyed, she tried to open her eyes. Why couldn’t anyone just let her sleep? After all, she’d been working doubles at the café and closing late. All she wanted was to rest just a few more minutes before her alarm went off.
“Miss, I don’t know if you can hear me, but help is miles away this time of the morning. I need to get you to safety. The rain is not likely to stop any time soon.”
Mya moaned and wished he would stop tugging on her. Her irritation turned into anger towards the man, whoever he was, because every time he tugged on her, pain shot through her body. Though she tried, her heavy eyelids wouldn’t budge to even get a peek at him. She tried to tell him to leave her alone and let her sleep, but all she managed was mumbling nonsense.
“Don’t worry Miss, I gotcha. At least you’re still alive… that’s more than I can say for… for them.”
She didn’t know why her face and clothes were wet, but she needed to pee. Or maybe that’s why she was wet. Mortified she might have peed herself, and confused as to why she would have done that, she moved to raise onto her elbows.
“Whoa, now miss. Be still while I wrap your head. Can’t have it floppin’ around while I try to move you.”
A musty smell invaded her nostrils and she felt pressure under her head, then wet dog fur around her ears. Her dog, Mr. Puffins, definitely needed a bath and she wondered why in the hell he was wet, too. Nothing worse than wet dog smell, she always said, except for burnt rubber. And why in the hell was she smelling burnt rubber? When she woke up, she planned on having a serious talk with the kids. They knew better than to get into things while she was sleeping.
“Miss, if you can hear me, my name’s Wendel. I’m gonna scoot you little by little until I get you outta the road. Then you’ll be safe ‘till help gets here.”
Mya gasped for breath and started to cough. Stabbing pains shot through her head, chest and legs. She moaned and tried to tell him to stop. He needed to know he was hurting her and possibly Mr. Puffins, who managed to stay glued to her head. Why the strange man was moving her and what kind of help she needed confused her. She should call someone. But who? If only she could open her eyes and give this man a piece of her mind. Did he say his name was Winston? Wendel?
“W– Wen– ” Mya gave her best effort to talk to him.
“Shhh, now Miss. I won’t do anymore to cause you pain. I did my best to stop the bleedin’ and you’re safe outa the road now. You’re gonna be okay. Just know I’m sorry this happened to you.” He squeezed her hand then placed it on her chest and let go.
At least now that he was gone, she could go back to sleep, except that when she tried, the throbbing pain in her head wouldn’t let her. A chill flowed through her body and unexpectedly, isolation overwhelmed her. She must tell the man to come back. Groaning and with great effort, she barely lifted her eyelids. A sliver of blurred light highlighted the silhouette of a man in a cowboy hat walking away from her.
Wait! Hey buddy, come back! Wendel! You can’t just leave me alone. And where is Mr. Puffins? Mya moved her mouth to say the words, but her breath hissed and she realized she’d only said them in her mind. Despite the stabbing pains every time she took a breath, she felt herself drifting into darkness, and hoped when she woke, Wendel and Mr. Puffins would be back.
Water drops pelted her forehead, forcing her awake. Sirens in the distance cried frantically, louder and louder until they seemed close, too close. She hoped no one was hurt.
Excited voices. Metal clicking. More sirens. As she slipped in and out of consciousness a stark realization came over her– someone was hurt, and that someone was her.
Mya woke to the sounds of beeping from a machine next to her bed. A bed that wasn’t hers, in a room she didn’t recognize.
“Mya! Thank God, you’ve been out for hours. I’m so happy you’re okay,” her husband, Dale, smiled down at her as a single tear ran down his cheek.
“What… What happened? Where’s Mr. Puffins. Where’s Wendel?” The words came out raspy and barely intelligible.
“It’s okay, babe. You’ve been in an accident and you’re in the hospital. A pickup truck ran a red light next to the railroad tracks, and hit you when you were coming home from work. Your ribs are broken as well as a broken leg and clavicle, plus you have some internal bleeding. Mya, it’s a miracle you’re alive.”
“What? How?”
He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “It could have been so much worse. Babe, they said they found you under a tree by the road, several feet from your car, and that you’d put a tourniquet around your leg. I didn’t even know you knew how to do that.”
Her head swam, the dizziness compounded by her muffled heartbeats relentlessly pounding her ears. She tried to recall what had happened, but it was all a blur. A blur except for Wendel and Mr. Puffins. “Dale, I didn’t… I mean, I had help. A man was there. He moved me and covered me with Mr. Puffins. I think. I mean, that’s what I remember. Is Mr. Puffins alright? Please, tell me he’s not running loose around the railroad tracks.”
The look on her husband’s face was either confusion or sympathy, she couldn’t be sure, because her vision was slightly blurred. “Mr. Puffins? Your childhood poodle?” His brow pinched with concern and he leaned closer to her. “Babe, the police said there were no witnesses.”
Mya looked at him as if he were speaking Klingon and shook her head. “No. No he was there. I’m sure of it.” She was suddenly tired and closed her eyes. Surely, Wendel wasn’t the type of man who would just leave. He seemed decent, caring, coolheaded in an emergency, and most of all he wore a cowboy hat. How could the police have missed him? Did he take Mr. Puffins with him? She racked her brain until she started to feel pain, then pushed the green button next to her thumb. A rush of calm went through her body and she started to drift off when she heard a knock.
“Ma’am, I’m Trooper Sloan. Do you feel like talking to me about your accident?” A tall highway trooper in a raincoat stood expectantly at the foot of her bed next to her husband, who nodded his encouragement.
She blinked, gave a slow nod, and tried to sit up. Dale placed another pillow behind her head. “Go ahead, Honey and tell the officer what you told me.”
The trooper listened, then exchanged an uneasy look with her husband. He shuffled through the pages of his small notebook and shifted his weight before looking up at her. “Ma’am we’re stumped as to how you managed to end up where you did, considering the serious extent of your injuries. We checked the intersection camera, but it must’ve been damaged by the impact, because the footage cuts in and out, and doesn’t show anyone else who may have stopped to help you. Ma’am, when we arrived at the scene of the accident, there was no one alive, except for you.”
The troopers words were a punch in the gut that forced all the air from her lungs. How could she have done all that alone? She couldn’t have and she didn’t, because she wasn’t alone. Wendel was there. She knew it. She’d have to find him.
“Who? Who were they?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “The people in the truck who didn’t make it?”
The trooper looked at his notepad for a moment and took a deep breath. “It was a man and his dog, Ma’am. His name was Wendel. Wendel Burns.”