Dusting Off Dreams

I Didn't Kill Her

Francis shook with sobs, and her lips quivered both the upper and the lower, bringing her voice to a squeaky whisper. "So I wrecked the car. So what?" she said animatedly. 

"It's not the car I'm worried about, Sis!" Jackie said with her hands wrapped around her latte, blowing the steam.

"Well, just fucking say it already." Francis slumped in her chair, like a defeatist giving up on her dream, and threw her hands in the air. "Just say it."

"Did you take your medication?" Jackie arched a concerned brow.

Francis leaned her body forward. "Oh fuck you, and your goddamn self-righteous ass."

Jackie paced the hospital emergency waiting lobby, stroking her chin with her free hand and taking sips of coffee with the other hand. "You're lucky you didn't kill..."

The large white doors behind which surgeries take place slammed open as a doctor entered the lobby, pulling Jackie's eyes and attention to his deadpanned stare. The doctor was an older man, much older than Francis. He had a head full of thick gray hair, and white replacing grey stubble rounded his jawline. "She...she didn't make it."

Francis sprung to her feet and twisted the ring on her finger. "No! Do CPR! Do something."

The doctor folded his arms across his chest. "Francis, is that your name?" He tilted his head, giving her an engaging glance.

Francis chewed her fingernail and nodded. "Well, don't just stand there."

Crosstalk from scanners loudened as police approached.

"The driver's head looks like a smashed watermelon." He pulled a picture from his long, white coat breast pocket, handing it to Francis. "Not a pretty picture."

Francis squinted to avoid memorizing the extent of the man's injuries.  She doubled over and barfed on his shoes.

"We've done all we can do," the doctor said, patting Francis' shoulder. She noticed what must have been the victim's blood on his coat.

Jackie drew a deep breath and blew out a sharp sigh. "Now, this has gone from a DUI to a murder."

Police separated Jackie and Francis, asking questions, too many questions, Francis thought. And if that bitch rats me out, she's dead.

"Ma'am, I'm going to ask you to face the wall," a police officer told Francis. "Place your hands on the wall and spread your feet." The officer patted her down, and she felt he checked her breasts a little too long.

"That's it, I am gonna make a complaint, asshole." Francis thought back to those Youtube videos of people telling the cops they don't consent bullshit. "I don't consent. Um... unreasonable search and seizure. Um...am I free to go, or am I being detained? I plead the fifth."

Francis looked over her shoulder. "You're gonna make me take the fall for this, Jackie?"

Jackie rubbed her face with her hands as though she were rinsing her guilt. "You're on your own this time, kid."

"I always take the fall for you," Francis said as the cops manhandled her away. "Always!" Francis's pleas faded down the hallway.