the highway. I jump out of the car,
run toward the stretcher. “Kyle!”
A cop stops me. Let the paramedics
do their job. His arm is broken, maybe
his collarbone, too. And he’s got one
giant knot on his noggin. But it looks
like he’ll be just fine. The truck
is definitely not so lucky.
We watch two tall uniforms load
Kyle into an ambulance. Then the cop—
Officer Strohmeyer—opens the passenger
door for me. Might as well sit up front.
He comes around, slips beneath
the steering wheel. Gonna take
a while to pull the truck out of there.
We’ll tow it to Bishop. The question
is, who’s missing you right now?
I’VE HAD SOME TIME
To think up an answer, so it flows easily.
“We were on our way to my grandparents’
in Carson City. My mom’s already there….”
Which may or may not be true.
But I’m pretty sure Grandma Marie and
Grandpa Scott will cover for me.
I suppose I should get in touch
with Kyle’s dad, let him know what’s up.
You better give them a call and let
them know what happened, says Officer
Strohmeyer. I’ll take you to the hospital.
You should get checked out too.