Johnny Angel

“What are you doing? Why are you doing that?” she screamed at them. “Take that thing off his face!” She ran toward them, still dripping blood everywhere in her ruined dress. The whole top of it was now red. And she ran toward Johnny's lifeless form and tried to grab at the tarp covering him, but one of the paramedics pulled her away. She fought him valiantly as he held her in his arms, and she sobbed.

“Come on over here,” he said quietly, “you're all right… come and sit down…. We have to take you to the hospital,” he said, holding her firmly by the arms, but she was hysterical. She was sobbing and clawing at him, and trying desperately to get away. “I have to go to Johnny … I have to … I have to …” She was gasping for air, and choking on sobs, as one of the firemen comforted her and held her in his arms. “That's Johnny … he can't be … he can't… oh God … no …” She sank slowly toward the pavement again, and the fireman picked her up easily and deposited her in an ambulance, and a moment later, they sped away.

It took two hours to clear the scene, get everyone to nearby emergency rooms, or on their way home. Parents were called, kids were given rides by police officers, and all five of the bodies were sent to the morgue. And three police officers and a highway patrolman divided up the list of addresses where they had to go, to break the news. The truck driver was from out of state, and all they had to do was notify the trucking firm, and they would take care of the rest.

The officer who went to Johnny's address knew who he was, and had a daughter in Charlotte's class. He had done painful tasks like this before, and he was dreading what he would see on the boy's mother's face. He knew what a great kid Johnny was. He rang the bell at three A.M., and he had to ring it again. Jim Peterson finally came to the door, in his pajamas, and Alice was standing behind him in an old dressing gown. They looked frightened as soon as they saw a policeman at the door.

“Is something wrong, Officer?” They had never had a problem with Johnny, and it seemed hard to imagine that he had been arrested now. They wondered if he'd been caught speeding, or had been arrested for being drunk. But any of those possibilities seemed impossible to believe.

“I'm afraid so,” he said, addressing them both. “May I come in?” he asked cautiously as they stood aside, and he walked into their living room, and stood there looking grim. “There's been an accident,” he said as Alice caught her breath, and her hand went instinctively to Jim's arm and grabbed at him. “Your son John has been killed. I'm sorry, ma'am … Mr. Peterson … it was a six-vehicle collision, and there were a number of fatalities, I'm just so sorry that one of them was your son.”

“Oh my God …” Alice said, feeling a rush of panic wash over her like a tidal wave, still trying to sort out the words, “oh my God … no … that can't be … are you sure there isn't some mistake?” Jim hadn't said a word so far, but there were tears running down his face.

“Another car hit them and forced them between the divider and a truck. I don't think there was anything your son could have done to avoid the accident. It's a terrible thing when we lose young people like that. I know how you must feel.” Alice wanted to say that there was no way he could know, but she couldn't speak. Her mind was whirling incoherently, and she felt faint, as the officer helped her to a seat. “Would you like a glass of water, ma'am?” She shook her head silently as tears streamed down her face.

“Where is he now?” she finally managed to croak out, thinking of him lying by the side of the road somewhere, or in his car. She wanted to hold him in her arms, or die with him. She couldn't even think.

“They've taken him to the county coroner. You'll have to make arrangements for him, and we'll do anything we can to help.” She nodded again, as Jim Peterson walked into the kitchen on shaky legs and came back with a drink. It looked like water, but it was straight gin, and Alice knew from the look of terror in his eyes what it was. He looked panic-stricken, which was how she felt.