Part Two

The car was empty.

Instantly, I called Tom’s name.

I had never been back to see where Tom was planning to set up his deer stand. It was one of those things that you always think you’ll get around to. I stood in the dusk and waited for a reply, my eyes searching the tree line.

In that split second, I have never felt so alone in my entire life.

What seemed like a lifetime passed before Tom answered.

“Sheila,” It was strained, and at once I was terrified. “Sheila, over here.”

“Where? Where are you?”

“Over here, over here.”

I found Tom barely inside the woods, lying face down on the ground with his deer stand wrapped around him. Head to toe in camouflage, he looked as if he’d decided to lie down and take a nap, besides being surrounded by the metal frame of the stand. His backpack of supplies laid at the base of the tree.

Tom’s hat was a decent three feet away from his grasp. Anyone that knows Tom also knows that he always wears a hat. Seeing his hat close enough for him to grab it, yet he hadn’t, made me realize there was a serious problem here.

“Oh God, oh God.” Panic set in. I knew this wasn’t good.

“I can’t move, Sheila. I broke my neck. I couldn’t answer when you called,” he said almost too calmly.

“Oh God, Tom. How long have you been laying here?”

“About three hours,” he said matter-of-factly. “Sheila you have to call 911.”

I nodded, trying to think clearly. He had been lying here… waiting for me to wake up from my nap… for three hours…? I started towards him to get the cell phone. “Where’s the phone?” I asked while starting to bend down towards him to rummage through his pockets.

“Don’t move me, Sheila!” he stated firmly. “The phone is in the front bib of my overalls. I couldn’t get to it when it rang. Go back up to the house and call 911.”

I could feel the tears coming already. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Sheila, you have to go call 911.”

Tom continued to work on convincing me to leave him to go back to our house to call 911. He was, somehow, the rational one in this situation. I couldn’t figure out why he, the one who had been lying for three hours waiting for someone to find him, could be so calm. All I could guess is he already had time to assess the situation, and had gone through his stage of panic and was past that.

I, on the other hand, was freaking out.

After a brief moment of listening to Tom’s directions, I quickly walked back to the car and drove back up towards our apartment. Instead of driving that far, though, I stopped at the neighbors and jumped out of the car.

I pounded on the neighbor’s front door, constantly looking over my shoulder to the back of the property. The couple worked nights, I thought, and wasn’t even sure if they were home. I wondered if I was wasting precious time by waiting to see if they were there.

This only happens in the movies, I remember thinking. This can’t be real.

The neighbors, John and Mary, opened up the door, and I began spatting off instructions to call 911 because Tom had fallen from a tree. It took a couple times of saying it before I could see the recognition sink into their faces. Their eyes opened widely, and Mary started to grab for the phone.

“John, go with Sheila back down to Tom. I’ll wait here to show the ambulance where to go,” Mary said as she scooted us out the door.

I quickly jumped into the passenger’s seat of my car, knowing that I was in no condition to drive, and then asked John if he knew how to drive a manual transmission. By the look on his face, I think it had probably been some time since he’d driven one, but he sat in the driver’s seat and started the car.

It was only a two minute drive, tops. Again, it seemed like forever. I had no idea of his condition, really. I didn’t know if he was bleeding, internally or externally. I didn’t know if shock would set in and he would be passed out by the time we got back. Or, worse, if he would be able to continue to breathe on his own or if he would be able to hold on to life until an ambulance would be able to get there.

I pointed John to the spot where Tom was laying. We both darted from the car to Tom’s side.

“Tom, baby, Mary is calling 911. John is here. Are you okay?”

“I messed up bad, Sheila. I messed up bad,” he said sadly.

John peered at Tom from the field, and said, “I’m going to stay by the car to show the paramedics where to go.”

I nodded back to him and crouched down beside Tom, afraid to touch him at all.

“I thought I was going to die, Sheila,” Tom said. “I thought for sure I was going to heaven. I was wondering who I was going to see first.”

I started to cry again. “Well, you’re stuck here with me now.”

“How do I look? Am I all twisted up?”

“No, baby. You look fine, you look fine. You look like you laid down.”

“I fell on my head. I broke my neck, Sheila. I can’t move anything past my shoulders. I tried to rock back and forth on the cell phone hoping to answer it when you called. I couldn’t.”

“Its okay, I’m here now.”

“Is the ambulance on its way?” His voice was getting quieter, like he was getting tired.

“Yes, it’s on its way.”

“Sheila?”

“Yes, Tom?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

(to be continued)