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He was seventeen going on thirty, and some days, I think he was more grown up than I was. I doubt I would need to tell any pretty girls about him. They tend to swoon over him naturally. He dreams of playing football for UT, and I am sure he will have his pick of colleges.
“Dork,” I said as I released his hug. I waved goodbye and watched them drive away in my dad’s old Dodge truck.
“I hate city traffic, “my dad complained as they drove off in his old red Dodge Ram truck.
I was so happy and so hopeful in that moment. I am nervous about adulting alone, but I was here! I was finally doing it.
I turned and went up the stairs to my new dorms, just a bus ride away from my college campus and the beginning of my future. I opened the door to my very first independent home, well, at least until they assigned me a roomy. I had a couple of boxes of my stuff on my twin-sized bed. It was not much, but it was all I needed. That nervous excitement had me humming in delight. This was all new and extraordinary to me.
My cheap cell phone rang, distracting me from my plans to unpack. It was Jason calling me. My heart sank. He just left. Why was he calling me? My anxiety peeked, but I brushed it off and answered.
“Miss me already, dork,” I said to my brother as I answered.
“Darah . . . it’s bad.” I heard sirens as Jason, weak and wheezing, said, “I love you.” In a croaked whisper.
“What? Jason, answer me! What happened?” I heard the noise of people in the background and sirens as I cried into the phone, trying to find out what was happening. I felt utterly hopeless and terrified, waiting for answers.
Eventually, after what felt like forever, a first responder picked up Jason’s phone.
“Hello.” He said in a deep voice.
“Hello, hello, I am Darah, Jason’s sister.” I rattled out with nerves.
“He just called me. This is his phone your talking to me on. Please, tell me what happened. Is my family, okay?” I asked frantically.
Ma›am, there›s been a car accident on IH-35 northbound, there is a pile up of vehicles here, I am a first responder, we are sending your family to the Saint David South Austin Hospital. Please meet your family there, Ma›am.»
The click of the phone hanging up sent me into a panic. My face was numb, my ears rang, and dread swallowed me whole. I ordered a taxi with my shaky fingers. To take me to the hospital.
Saint Dawn, “shit!” what was it? Saint David, that’s it, remember Darah, Think! I chastised myself.
Saint David, Austin, I kept repeating until I got the ride ordered.
“This can’t be happening!” I told myself as I traveled in a cloak of fear to the hospital. I was suddenly in a living nightmare.
I waited in a state of shock at that hospital, pacing in the hall outside the seating area that I was directed to. Finally, a doctor approached me and took me to a private room. My heart sank. That can’t be good. Private rooms to talk can’t be any good. I panicked. I felt the doctor’s dread as he faced me.
“Ma’am, your family is John Davis, Dana Davis, and Jason Davis? he asked as he read the names off of his notes.
“Yes, sir, please tell me they are alive,” I begged with tears, fearing my radar was picking up the wrong message.
“Unfortunately, ma’am, they were found deceased at the scene. We have a counselor available . . .
“All three of them? Are you sure? Can you double-check?” This had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be real.
“I am sorry ma’am all three are confirmed dead, they have passed away.”
“No!” I cried as I ran away from him and out of the hospital. I ran into a new, unthinkable reality. One where I was no longer myself, just a shadow of who I was meant to be.
Grief had taken my whole heart and left me empty and alone. The little money I had saved was gone. I used it to cremate my family. I couldn’t even afford to buy a permit to spread their ashes, much less get a headstone or plot. I chose to spread their ashes illegally at the botanical gardens in Austin. I asked, but it wasn’t allowed.
I like the Japanese garden part of the botanical gardens, so I spread them there, and I go there to visit them. My parents had no will. The rancher they rented from quickly moved a new ranch hand and his family in. I couldn’t get back to East Texas to sort through their affairs. My brothers coach packed up our trailer and stored our stuff in an empty Conex cargo container on his property, he said I could get it anytime. In the meantime, he would keep it safe.
Paying my rent after all the expenses of the funeral cremations was just not a possibility. I was in no shape for school or work. With the last of my money, I bought a tent and moved to the streets. I needed to grieve, pull myself together, and find a job.
I woke with a start, I looked around the tent I was sleeping in, trying to calm my pounding heart.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Then I grabbed my half-drank bottle of Gatorade and finished it off. Taking a deep breath, I settled back into my sleeping bag and tried to fall asleep again.
