Twenty-two year old Samantha – Sam – Drake stared blankly out through the smears and stains adorning the coffee shop window, her mind idling quietly in neutral, and mused on the drudgery that was her life.
Her day had started like any other day:
Woken at dawn by her son, Joshua – a four-year-old hyperactive black hole of irresistible coercion, capable of sucking in the time, energy and consideration of every living thing around him at the cost of their patience and sanity – she discovered to her horror that he’d been through her dresser, again. Bouncing with unceasing energy on the end of her bed, he’d fired off a series of questions she daren’t answer truthfully. “Mommy, what are these for? Have you been naughty? I thought only policemen had handcuffs? Why do you…?”
Precocious and endlessly inquisitive, Joshua would have continued the grilling until her nerves were fried or his curiosity was satisfied. Thus, she had been forced to respond quickly, with lies and the offering of an appropriate bribe that had placated his ravenous little mind and sent him scurrying to his room in search of new things to torment.
But she was use to caving. It was either that, or listen to the ill-tempered diatribe of the useless lump beside her who seemed capable of sleeping through just about anything.
Yes, he was Joshua’s father, but no one would have known that from his total lack of interest, unless it was to show his son off in front of family and friends. Sam had learned very quickly never to hope that he would drag his sorry ass out of bed to help, preferring instead to let her do virtually everything “messy and difficult,” especially if it was inconvenient for him to be a parent at those times.
And that’s all it ever was – inconvenient – for Joshua followed the same old routine, day after day. “What’s this? Oh, what’s that? Can I have it? Not that one, fetch me the one over there. No, I don’t want to get dressed, and I don’t want to eat Chocó Pops for breakfast. I want a burger, a burger with jell-o and ice-cream…and a Mars bar.”
At least today was turning out better.
An unexpected call from her best friend, Sophie, had led to them meeting in Exeter for coffee later that morning, where of course, Sophie was as fresh as a daisy. And in her shoes, who wouldn’t be?
Sophie’s four-year-old, Chloe, born only two days after Joshua, was the complete opposite of her own little dynamic demon. Quiet and contented, she was the perfect child. She had delighted her parents by sleeping through the night from about two-weeks old, much to the envy of Sam, who had forgotten what it was like to lose herself to the temporary escape slumber offered, and who, as a result, had contemplated strangulation on more than one occasion.
But at least Sam could savor the delights of this brief respite.
It had rained during the night, and Josh – as she preferred to call him – had worked himself into an exhausted frenzy, jumping in puddles and chasing the variant mobs of seagulls and pigeons that roamed the city’s thoroughfares like pressgangs. At this moment, he lay in a sweaty heap, almost comatose in his stroller, and Sam had been able to unwind and catch up on the local gossip with Sophie, unhindered.
If only I could get him to do that every night from eleven to seven, life would be so much better. She sniffed. Still, we each have our cross to bear.
Sam was pulled from muted reverie by someone knocking her elbow. She turned to find Sophie edging through the gap in between the tightly packed tables. “Watch Chloe for me, will you?” her friend whispered, “I desperately need the toilet.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem,” replied Sam, knowing full well that where Chloe was concerned, there wouldn’t be anything to do, especially since both children were fast asleep. “Do you want more coffee before we go?”
“Just a small one, otherwise we'll be going from bathroom to bathroom instead of blitzing the stores,” Sophie warned.
Smirking at the truth of the remark, Sam checked the children in their strollers to make sure they were still napping before meandering over to the short queue to order fresh drinks.
As Sam waited in line, the unforgettable chorus to a near turn of the century reggae fusion classic, “Boombastic” announced to everyone in the café that her boyfriend was calling, causing quite a few to titter and shake their heads as she tried to answer her Tesla scroll phone as quickly as she could.
“Babe, where are you?” a sleepy voice slurred.
Is he…? “I’m in town with Sophie. Richard, are you still in bed?”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Yuh, just getting up now, wondered where you were.”
“Excuse me.” Another voice buzzed at the edge of her perceptions.
“I said I’m in town. Sophie and I should be another hour or two yet, why?”
“An hour or two? But I’m out of beer and Dave’s coming round soon to watch the sports channel with me on Globe-Sat. What are we gonna do?”
“Did you hear me?” The same voice repeated, louder this time.
Her anger rising, Sam ignored the interloper and concentrated on making her point. “Well, you could always die of thirst, or – and this is just a suggestion – you could get up off your backside and go and get it yourself.”
“Oh babe. C’mon and help me out here. Can’t you –?”
“Don’t you dare!” Sam cut in, not giving the oaf time to even finish asking, “This is the first time I’ve managed to catch Sophie in ages and I’m not going to rush . . . .”
“Excuse me, young lady.” Whoever the stranger was, they were most insistent.
Oh for heaven’s sake. “Hang on a minute, Rich.” Sam turned to find an anxious looking middle-aged woman tugging on her arm. “Yeah, what do you want?”
Turning back toward where they had been sitting, Sam saw Sophie returning from the restroom and nearing the table. The older lady pointed and said, “Is that your little boy who’s just gone outside?”
Sam’s eyes zeroed in on Joshua’s empty stroller, and a spark of alarm set her nerves ablaze. Peering toward the doors, which were wedged open for the fresh air, she caught sight of a mop of blond hair bobbing along outside the window, and a squeal of delight as a mixed cluster of birds began to flee from their latest tormenter.
“Josh!” shouted Sam, in the vain hope that for the first time in his short life, her son would actually take notice of his mother. “Josh, wait!” she screamed, much louder this time, causing the whole coffee shop to fall silent.
Everyone turned, searching for the cause of alarm.
“Oh no!” someone seated near the window gasped.
Sam’s feet felt like clay as she fought her way through crowded tables toward the door, but at last she made it. Gaining a clearer view, she saw Joshua momentarily stop, raising her hopes that he had actually listened for once. Then she spotted the object of his interest: the only small group of pigeons left in the near vicinity, happily strutting their stuff on the curb next to the busy road. Well used to a city environment, they didn’t seem in the least bit bothered by the elderly lady who stood nearby.
His face twisting in glee, Joshua sucked in air, and, shrieking at the top of his little lungs, charged at the intruders who had dared not to fly away with the others.
Unaware for a moment that they were the focus of that charge, the pigeons continued in their own little world, hopping on and off the pavement and into the street, hoping to snatch a discarded crumb or two before the next vehicle got too close and caused them to temporarily abandon their endless quest for food.
Sam’s skin blanched cold “Joshua, no!” she roared, desperate that the use of his full name might carry more weight.
But of course it didn’t and, with his full consideration on the birds, he jumped toward them, arms flapping wildly, totally oblivious to the fact he was nearing the edge of the curb, and totally unaware of the truck, now only fifty feet away.
Hand in her mouth, Sam froze.
*
Absorbed in the stock manifest of his next delivery, Albert Finn, the driver of the van, didn’t realize anything was amiss until he glanced up from his computer screen and looked at the road ahead.
What in the…?
And there he was. A little boy only yards away, right in front of him.
But that can’t…?
As often happens to people in those final moments before unexpected calamity strikes, Albert refused to believe there was a child where there shouldn’t be one. When he realized – alas – that the apparition was indeed real, it was too late to brake; too late to do anything except shut his eyes and wait for the inevitable, sickening, impact.
Crump!
Though softer than he would have expected, the sound of crushing metal dominated Albert’s whole world. The front of the vehicle dipped sharply, lifting the rear completely off the ground, throwing parcels and equipment forward, and causing him to wince in pain as the seatbelt harness bit into his chest.
None of that mattered to Albert, who had only recently become a grandfather. Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening. There’s no way a toddler could survive a collision like that. I’ve killed a little boy!
Broken glass and loose items of stock rained down around his head. In the confines of the cab, the effect seemed overly prolonged in some way, for it felt as if the truck had been suspended up on its nose. When Albert dared to relax and tried to snatch a breath, the spell was broken.
The groan of steel protesting against steel growled out as the vehicle crashed back down to earth with an almighty bang. As the windshield had already shattered, whatever glass was left in the frame tinkled lightly to the asphalt, accentuating the silence.
Slowly, the aftermath of the accident began to register on Albert’s conscience.
Oh my Christ, poor little sod. Where is he? Do I even want to look?
*
“Yah! Fly birdies, fly…”
Completely unaware of what was about to happen, Joshua’s attention was devoted to a playground of flapping wings, splashing puddles, and a sense of burgeoning triumph as he chased the last remaining pigeon toward the edge of the sidewalk.
It took to the air.
“Oh no you don’t!” Leaping high, he felt a brush of feathers and the downbeat of wind as his enemy rose into the heavens beyond his reach. “Ha, that’ll teach you…?”
Only at that moment did Joshua recognize he was where he shouldn’t be.
Why am I in the road?
He spun in a tight circle, searching for the security of a familiar face.
Where’s mommy?
At the last moment, he realized something big, something hard, something travelling so very fast that blocked out the sunshine, was about to hit him.
There was no time to react, no time to even scream as an irresistible force slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs as it flung him backwards, turning the spinning kaleidoscope blur of his vision black.