Prompt: A White Lie | Word Count: 2500 | Genre: Drama
Published at: 12ShortStories.com
Baxter’s Promise
by T.R. Kisgen
Baxter believed her survival was on the line, so he told a white lie. Mom always said real lies hurt people but white lies can soften the truth.
“You will be fine. Help is on the way.”
He shouldn’t have begged his mother to drive. Not tonight. She trusted him and did not know he drank 5 beers with Bruce. He didn’t even have his license, just the permit.
The Missouri storm came on them fast and much earlier than predicted. Even with all their driving practice, Baxter never drove in torrential rain like this. The car flipped when he hit the brakes, so as not to slam into the truck in front of them. The 2012 Honda Civic careened down the embankment and he could only hope that someone saw the accident and called 911.
In the dark it was hard to tell where all the blood was coming from, but his mother was hanging upside down from her seatbelt and her hair was wet. Windows were shattered and rain was coming in. She was wheezing and Baxter knew from his grandfather’s mishaps that her ribs might be broken. This could puncture a lung. Baxter himself was pinned so he could not alleviate his mother’s dangling two hundred pounds. Though he twisted and turned, he could not free himself. He reached out and tried to support her head in his left hand.
“B-Bax” The words were a whisper of air.
“Don’t talk. I know you love me, Mom.”
She gripped his fingers at her chin.
“No – not okay.”
Baxter mustered his most positive tone and smiled at his mother.
“It’s hard to breathe ‘cuz we are upside down. We are wet because water got into the car. Look at me. See? We’re fine.” He waved his free arm around and moved his hand and fingers like a silly dance.
She loosened her grip and he could feel the skin of her face smiling. “Okay.”
A shock of lightening lit up the interior of the vehicle and during that flash Baxter saw it. A thick tree branch was sticking out of his mother’s chest near her left shoulder. It must have entered through her back. Tears rolled down his cheeks as thunder rocked the car.
“Mom, I hear sirens. They’re coming.”
Another white lie to soften the truth… Baxter wanted to go for help but his legs were melded to the car. He strained his ears listening for approaching sirens of emergency responders. All he could hear was the pelting rain and the sporadic whooshing of vehicles as they passed above.
Silently, he called out to God. “I did this. Please help Mom survive. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll become a pastor and spread your word. Please don’t let my mom die. I’m so sorry.”
He was openly sobbing and the weight of his mother’s head became too heavy. She did not seem conscious. Ever so gently, he let go. He leaned towards his mother and tried to see her eyes but they looked closed.
“Mom. Mom.” She was quiet and still.
Baxter put his palm to her stomach, not wanting to touch her injured chest, and could feel her belly rise and fall. Breathing meant she was alive. This moment should not be happening. Baxter wished he could rewind the whole day.
At school this morning Mandy let him know they had been going out for six months. At his locker, she gave him a card. She urged him to open it. It said “Happy Anniversary”. It was signed with “I love you forever, M” and at the bottom was a pink heart drawn in crayon that announced, “I’m pregnant.”
He recalled looking down at her big blue eyes as she smiled and nodded her head. They stared at each other while other students passed them in the hall. After what seemed like eternity, the bell rang and he was still locked in her gaze.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Mandy was crying and he stood there as if in a trance.
Finally she stormed off. Baxter hung his head and walked to class.
During lunch, Mandy parked her tray next to his and said, “I’m keeping it.”
He remembered saying, “We’re teenagers. We can’t have a baby.”
She had called him a “son of a bitch” and scurried out of the cafeteria.
After school, Baxter walked out with his best friend from Kindergarten. He told Bruce he wanted to hang out. After calling his mom, Baxter climbed in Bruce’s car and they drove to Bruce’s house to play video games. After two hours of DeathWing, Baxter told Bruce that Mandy was pregnant.
Next thing he knew Bruce handed him a beer. Bruce told him to break up with Mandy after talking her into having an abortion. He told Baxter he always knew she was trouble and probably thought having a baby meant getting married and having the white picket fence fairy tale but in high school it’s just committing suicide. Bruce’s parents were gone, so they finished off his dad’s supply of beer except for two cans. Bruce said as long as his dad saw two cans in the fridge, he would think he drank the rest.
Baxter’s own father was not a drinker and died from cancer four years ago, leaving just him and his mother. Mom worked two jobs and encouraged Baxter to play sports and go out with friends. She made him feel important because there was so much he could do that she could not, such as mowing and trimming their huge yard, digging a grave when their cat Sushi died, and bringing in groceries every week. Baxter loved and respected his mother and until now, thought of himself as mature for sixteen.
Earlier tonight, Bruce was sprawled across the couch and was in no shape to drive. It was ten o’clock when Baxter called his mother to come get him. She was not familiar with alcohol so did not recognize its effects. If she had, she would never have agreed to let him drive her car.
With both hands now free, he pushed against the bottom of his seat to try and get loose. He unbuckled his seat belt but that was a bad idea. Hanging upside down, the support provided by the belt across his lap and shoulder was now gone. At five foot ten, his head hit the roof of the car and the full weight of his upper body fell to his neck and shoulders.
“Stupid.”
The pain that radiated from his lower back was incredible. The seatbelt was still across him, and he reached down to feel for the locking mechanism but couldn’t find it. With gravity pulling on him, Baxter tried to loosen his legs. They seemed to be lodged in the space between the pedals and the engine. Baxter realized that he must have hit that truck after all because he was now trapped inside the crunched front end.
He remembered braking too late and seeing the red lights of the truck through the sheets of rain. The wipers could not keep up. He heard his mother yell and there was hard impact and then they were rolling or flying and then another huge impact, boom! Then crash, glass shattering, and lights out.
When he came to, they were upside down and he and his mother were secured by their seatbelts. They were sitting in their seats but the windows were open and the engine was off and the car smelled of smoke and metal. If it wasn’t raining, Baxter was sure the car would be on fire.
His mother had been conscious but even in the dark he knew she was covered in blood. He had done an assessment on himself by checking his own hands, touching his face, and then his head. He did not seem to be injured except for his dead legs.
Baxter tried to recall everything that happened today and tonight and his thoughts centered on Mandy and a baby inside her – his child. What if he died here in this accident? What if he didn’t realize how badly he was injured and nobody found them? What if the only part of him that could live was this child? He was wrong not to want it, God doesn’t make mistakes. Maybe the only reason she got pregnant was because it was his only chance to reproduce. At sixteen, he was going to die, but this way, a part of him continued. Baxter really wanted to talk to his mother about this but she might never know about her grandchild.
This was all too much. He wanted to call somebody but hadn’t been able to find his phone. He knew they went off the highway but was not sure where. On the chance they ever did get home, Baxter knew he would never drink and drive again. If his mother died, he hoped she could forgive him. How could he forgive himself? If he lived and she died, he couldn’t live with that. She was right next to him. He couldn’t let her die.
“Wake up. Help me figure out what to do. What can I do?”
He couldn’t think that way. He had to do something. If it weren’t storming someone might hear him yelling. They might anyway, he decided. Baxter said, “Mom, it’s going to get loud because I’m going to yell for help. They will get here faster if they hear a voice guiding them to our car.”
Baxter took a deep breath and screamed, “Help!” as loud as he could. Then he did it again, and again. He counted six times before taking a break and going again. Ten more times and then his voice cracked.
Now he looked for his mother’s cell phone. He felt around in search of her purse but could not find it. There must be a way to get out of here, some way to get help.
Baxter knew he only had one option. The rain was easing up and had become a drizzle. He could see trees outside their windows and knew the embankment was forested. Sirens. He listened to the long wail and then it faded but did not stop. The wail become louder before fading again, and the cycle continued. It was a tornado siren. The wind picked up and now it was hailing. It was time to pray.
“God please help me get Mom out of here. Please don’t let her die. I will do whatever you want.”
Baxter tried to fasten himself back into his seat but was struggling. Believing that whatever happened now was in God’s hands, Baxter touched his mother’s face and cupped her chin.
The sirens seemed faint against the howling wind and the beating hail sounded like pounding golf balls. If the windows were not already shattered this would have done the job. Baxter closed his eyes and tried to relax but could feel his heart pounding.
A tornado sounds like a freight train, that’s what he had heard. It certainly sounded like a freight train was approaching. The wind was furious and he could feel the vehicle turn. It was pushed against trees and there was a snapping sound. Baxter imagined the tree branch lodged inside his mother had broken off from the tree upon which it was attached, but when he reached to his mother she didn’t seem to have budged.
“Mom, if you can hear me, God is with us. I prayed.”
She patted his fingers that rested on her chin. She hadn’t left him. The car pushed against trees and Baxter believed a tornado was above them. In that second, the vehicle was lifted and spun with rain and hail still beating and Baxter was thrown around the vehicle right along with his dangling mother.
There was impact, the spinning slowed, and Baxter realized they were now right-side up. Though dizzy, Baxter reached for his mother. Her eyes were wide open and she asked, “What happened?”
Baxter heard himself laugh when he heard sirens. Police sirens this time, or an ambulance or fire trucks.
“We’re back on the road, Mom. Help is coming.”
Lights were flashing and there were police cars all around them.
A fire truck pulled up next to their Honda and several men got out, opened the doors, and began working on them. Two were trying to get him out of the car while another three were working on his mother.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” It was still hard for her to speak so Baxter answered their questions but not before asking his own.
“Do you see what happened there?” He gestured to her chest and shoulder where the tree branch poked through cloth.
“Yeah, we’ve got her, son. It’ll be fine.”
Baxter’s mother looked confused. One of the paramedics told her she had a “splinter” and they would get it out at the hospital.
Baxter could see it better with all the lights they were shining into the car and there was a lot of blood, but the tree branch didn’t look as big as he’d imagined; it was more the size of a large twig.
He met the same paramedic’s eyes and inquired, “Did it come through the back?”
The man told him, “No, the splinter entered from the front and it probably won’t cause much damage. Nothing we can’t fix. She’ll be okay, kid.”
A guy working on getting Baxter out of the car commented, “You drove through a tornado and lived to tell the tale. You got lucky.”
They pulled Baxter from the car and told him he had two broken legs.
Baxter tried to explain that they were in an accident.
All of the paramedics chuckled. The one working on his mother said, “No kidding? Kid, we saw your car come out of the F5 tornado. Looked like your little Honda came out of it spinning and then down to a nice, easy landing. Never saw anything like it.”
What a visual. Baxter stopped trying to explain. It was a miracle.
Baxter closed his eyes and said, “Thank you.”
They had survived. Now he thought of Mandy and the child she was carrying. Decisions would have to be made and hard conversations would follow. But he was alive and so was his mother. Everything was going to be okay. He had a bargain to fulfill; a deal had been made.
Baxter would be open to do whatever was asked of him, even becoming a pastor or a preacher. He didn’t go to church but wanted to start. Maybe take his mother and tell her about his promise to God if only he would save her.
Baxter was grateful for life and believed he and his mother survived this ordeal because of prayer, because of divine protection. He wanted to share his story with others and hoped that one of the paramedics got them coming down out of the tornado on video!