he had lost his appetite for coffee that morning. He rolled down his window and poured the stuff out onto the street, letting the rain wash it away.
Before pulling back out onto the street, Andy seriously considered just turning around and heading back home. The pain in his chest was really bothering him, and he was becoming increasingly frightened by the strange goings on of that morning. He’d tell Rebecca that he wasn’t feeling well, maybe he’d even call the doctor like she’d asked him to. Andy wasn’t superstitious, but all the bizarre occurrences since he had woken up seemed to be telling him that he should not go to work. Something was terribly wrong and nobody seemed to notice it but him.
Instead, Andy told himself that he was crazy and decided to head on to work. He put the car in gear and drove back onto the street. The rain was really pouring now and he had to set his wipers on the highest setting just to be able to see the street in front of him. As a precaution, he turned on his headlights as well. But it seemed that he was the only driver on the road taking that precaution. None of the other cars he passed had their lights on. In fact, in the brief glimpses he could catch of them between the swipes of the wipers, it looked like most of the cars didn’t even have their wipers on. Oh well. The first thing his father had taught him while teaching him to drive was to assume that every other person on the road was a moron who had gotten their license out of a cereal box.
The radio reception was surprisingly clear, considering the weather. Usually in rain this heavy he would be hearing thick static and little else. One of his favorite songs came on. He had the words memorized and would usually sing along. He didn’t feel like singing this morning, but he was more than happy to listen. After the second chorus there was a musical bridge that lasted nearly a minute and featured some excellent guitar playing. It was his favorite part.
But this time he heard something he had never heard before. Barely audible under the music, Andy heard the screech of tires on asphalt and then a loud bang, followed by breaking glass, horns honking, and people screaming. Maybe he was picking up another station at the same time, which did happen from time to time, but whatever the other station was playing was incredibly bizarre.
Then the expected static did come, drowning out the song and whatever else was coming through. Sighing, Andy reached down and hit the tuning button. All of his presets were out, which was highly unusual, so he pressed the seek button and found that the only station that he could pick up was a Christian one on which some old sounding man was preaching in a dry monotone. Andy wasn’t a religious man but he would rather hear the preaching than drive in silence. He hated driving without some sort of audio stimulation.
Barely hearing the preacher, he drove on. The pain in his chest seemed to grow with every beat of his heart and he made a mental not to stop at Stan Moore’s desk when he got to work. Stan was a classic hypochondriac and he had a virtual drug store in his cubicle. He was sure to have something that would help this… whatever is was.
“Let me ask you a question,” the radio preacher was saying, his toneless voice never changing. It was like listening to a drugged up robot. “What if today was your last day? Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, whether you are at home, at work, driving in your car, would you be prepared? If God suddenly called you home, would you be ready to face him? You see, you are not guaranteed tomorrow. You are not even guaranteed the remainder of today. You could die in a car accident before even getting to work and never see it coming.”
The preacher’s words were a little too untimely for Andy’s taste, and the dry monotone was a little creepy, so he reached down to turn off the radio. As he pulled his hand back, relieved by the silence in the car, he suddenly had a sharp pain in his forehead, right over his left eye. Wincing, he put his hand to the spot and was shocked when he pulled it away to find his fingers stained with blood.
“What in the hell?” he almost screamed. He pulled the car over again and again pulled down the sun visor. Looking in the vanity mirror he saw that there was no visible wound. But then where had the blood come from? He looked back at his fingers and saw that they were clean. There was no indication that there had been anything on them at all, let alone blood.
Something strange was definitely going on. Andy was nearly terrified. The pain in his head and the disappearing blood on his fingers were the final straw. He wouldn’t be going to work. He wasn’t going home either. When he started driving again, he would go straight to the hospital, although part of him thought that instead of the emergency room, he would end up in the psych ward. Before heading there, he would make two calls on his cell: one to work and one to Rebecca to tell them what was going on.
He called Rebecca first. The phone rang four times and then he got the answering machine. Rebecca hadn’t been planning on going anywhere that day so she was either in bed, in the shower, or something unexpected had come up. After the outgoing message, Andy spoke.
“Bec, you there? Pick up if you’re there. Hello? Anyway, I’m not going to work today. I’m not feeling good at all so I decided to go to the hospital and get checked out. I’m sure everything is fine. I’ll call you from there to let you know what’s up. See you later, hon. I love you. Bye.”
Then he called work.
“Archer Industries,” Michelle, the receptionist answered. She sounded distant.
“Yeah, Michelle, it’s Andy Simon,” he began. “Listen, I’m gonna…”
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” Michelle interrupted, “but you are one sick son of a-”
“Michelle?”
“Look, you asshole,” Michelle snarled, “if you think you’re being funny, you’re wrong!”
“Michelle, wait!” Andy said, flustered. “Just give a message to Mr. Archer for me!”
“I’m calling the police if you don’t hang up right now!”
“What?” Andy asked. Then quickly, “Tell him I’m sick and not coming in today!”
“You’re sick, alright!” Michelle yelled and then she hung up.
“What the hell?” Andy said, staring in awe at his phone. He considered calling again and trying to find out what had angered the receptionist so, but a sudden peak in the pain in both his head and chest changed his mind. Praying he’d make it there safely, Andy began his drive towards Saint Mary’s Hospital. The trip would take him past the intersection of North Street and 14th Avenue and he hoped that the accident there had been cleaned up so he wouldn’t be stalled by traffic.
He approached the intersection slowly and saw only one police car with its lights flashing, two tow trucks, an ambulance, and more than a few lookers on. By the side of the road lay a body covered with a white sheet. The white pickup had been pulled to one side and sat there, a total loss, like its driver. Blood was streaked across the hood and the windshield was completely gone. But it was the Corolla that caught his eye. If Andy hadn’t been driving his own car, hw would have sworn he was watching it being towed away from the scene. It was identical to his own, right down to the dent in the rear bumper where Rebecca had backed into a pole in the grocery store parking lot. Had Andy left for work an hour earlier that could have indeed been his car, and he’d be the man in intensive care.
But the intersection had been cleared and traffic was running almost normally, so Andy went on through, trying not to stare at the twin car being towed away. Just looking at it made the strange pangs spike. He felt like vomiting.
Finally, he pulled into the hospital parking lot and parked right outside the emergence room entrance. He stopped his car and got out, hurrying through the rain, which none of the other soaked people he passed between the car and the building seemed to notice, and went into the hospital. He knew that it would be busy, with the accident and all, but the pain was getting worse and he was scared. He went to the front desk. There was a pretty looking young receptionist sitting there reading a magazine. She didn’t look up. There was a ring for service bell and he rang it. She still didn’t respond. He rang again. Nothing.
r /> “Hello!” he said loudly. It was as if she couldn’t hear him. He was about to reach over the desk and grab the girl when a familiar voice stopped him. He hadn’t noticed the woman before, but now he couldn’t miss his wife standing at the receptionist’s desk.
“Excuse me,” Rebecca said. She was crying and sounded very scared.
“Rebecca?” Andy asked. “You got my message!”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said again. The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “I was told my husband would be here.”
“I’m right here, Bec,” Andy said. “Don’t bother talking to her. She’s a-”
“What’s his name?” the receptionist asked.
“Andy Simon!” Andy said angrily.
“Andrew Simon,” Rebecca said. “He was in a car accident.”
The receptionist’s face immediately softened and Andy’s grew pale.
“What?” he asked, but neither woman seemed to hear him.
“Of course,” the receptionist said. “I’m sorry. He’s on the third floor in ICU. I was old to let you right up, Mrs. Simon. Do you need an escort?”
Before Rebecca could answer, a uniformed police officer and a doctor were at her side, helping her towards an elevator. Andy ran after them.
“Bec,