The Other Side Of Midnight

“Whatcha doing?” she asks.

“Cleaning the table after eating some sugary doughnuts.”

“Ugh… sugar. It’s ten in the morning. How could you do that to your body?”

“Well, I tried your cereal and it was disgusting, so I got Brianna to come over with some real food. Oh, and I’m packing it all up and mailing it to you.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warns.

“How’s it going with you?” I ask with a smile.

“I’m on my way to class, and I’m a bit late, but I just wanted to call and hear your voice. By the way, guess what I—”

Her voice is cut mid-sentence at the same time that there is a loud bang. She must have dropped the phone, because the sound of it hitting hard ground was so loud in my ear I have to jerk the phone away from my ear. For a second, I stare at the phone in confusion. Then I snatch it back to my ear and scream, “Sam! Sam, are you all right?”

Sam doesn’t answer me, but I hear other people screaming, moving, shouting out desperate questions and frantic commands.

“Oh, my God.”

“Call 911. Someone call 911.”

“Is she alive?”

“For fuck’s sake move out of the way.”

“Did anybody get the car’s registration?”

“It’s a hit and run.”

“Sam,” I scream.

Someone picks up her phone and says, “Hello.”

“Hello, what’s happened to the girl with the red hair?” I ask frantically.

“Hi, I… uh… were you talking to her before the accident?”

“Yes, yes,” I nearly scream. “Is she all right?”

“I’m so sorry, but she’s not moving at all. Someone’s called 911 and asked for an ambulance, we’ll have to see what they say.”

“Can you stay with me on the phone till they get there?” I beg.

“Yeah, sure.”

I stand in the middle of the shop for about fifteen minutes, then I hear the sounds of sirens. Authoritative voices ask people to move. I wait, hardly daring to breathe.

“What’s going on?” I finally whisper.

“I don’t think she made it,” the girl whispers tearfully. “They’re… Oh, my God, she’s dead.”

“No. Noooooo.”

I kill the connection and look around me in a daze. It cannot be. It cannot be. I walk towards a painting and straighten it. It’s a lifelong habit. I hate paintings that are not straight. It gets on my nerves. I walk away from the painting and stand in the middle of the gallery. My gaze slides around the other paintings, my mind feels strangely blank. Larry comes downstairs.

“I’m going to Old Joe’s. Want a burger?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“With extra cheese and mustard.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

I stand in the middle of the gallery and watch him walk across the road. A woman pushing a stroller goes by. Her baby drops its pacifier and she bends to pick it up. I watch them without expression. How long I stand there I do not know, but eventually, Larry comes back.

“Here’s your burger. I’ll have mine upstairs.”

I take the brown paper bag from him. “Thanks.” I put the Out For Lunch sign on the door, then take my burger to the backroom. I put it on the table and switch on the radio. A song I do not recognize comes on. I open the small fridge and pull out a can of Coke. Then I sit at the table, unwrap the burger and stare at it.

I can see that Joe has been really generous with the cheese. It has oozed on to the paper bag. I take a bite of the burger. It tastes good. I take a sip of Coke. I don’t believe Sam is dead. The girl is either playing a cruel prank on me, or she did not see clearly. She’s not a doctor. How can she know? Sam will be taken to the hospital and the doctors there will take care of her. They will mend her again. She is young. She will survive.

I take another bite. A song I like comes on and I sing along and bob my head to the rhythm. I look at my phone. No messages yet. It’s early yet. Obviously, I have to give the doctors time to work on her. They may even need to perform surgery on her. I wonder if I should call the hospitals around that area and find out exactly what is going on with her.

No, just give it a bit more time.

I take a swig of Coke. I’m not hungry, but I take another bite. It is a shame to waste good food. I wipe my mouth with the napkin and chew. In fact, I was wrong, the burger doesn’t taste as good as it usually does. There is almost three quarters of the burger left. I wrap it and put it into my bag. I will give the rest to the raccoons.

I go out front and take off the Out For Lunch sign. Then I sit at the table. There are no thoughts in my head. My mind is oddly empty, which is strange. I find my fingers tapping impatiently on the surface of the table. I jump when my phone rings. I run to it to pick it up. I am sure it is Sam, she is calling me from some hospital, but it is not. I freeze next to it. I stare at the lighted screen in horror. The lighted words read: