The Life Of Charles Hatcher.

As the first drops of rain begin to hit the wind shield, he looks down at the speedometer of the BMW. He’s only doing sixty five miles per hour, and the road conditions had only slightly worsened in the past twenty minutes or so, so he pushes his speed up to seventy five. The morning commute was bad enough driving all of the way from Sutton to Cantorville, almost all the way on Crow Crossing Road. this morning though it was the worst, he’d had a flat tire almost three quarters of the way there, and it caused him to fall behind on his tight schedule. He’d had to stay at the office an extra two hours to make up for lost time and it put his shift at a tough thirteen hours total. He had to put fifty miles behind him quickly to get home in time for dinner and to be in bed by nine pm, and it was already seventy thirty. He thinks that he isn’t going to make it, so he pushes harder on the accelerator petal pushing his speed up to eighty miles per hour.



The next thing he remembers is the right front tire begins to shake violently, and as he over compensates by yanking hard on the steering wheel the car veers sharply sideways and begins to roll over several times. The next thing he knows is he is laying down in the wet grass looking up at the rain clouds. He pulls himself up and is now on his hands and knees. Through the dark rainy night he can see the car laying on its side. One wheel is still turning, and the night draws eerily quiet. That is when he first hears the soft almost raspy voice coming to him through the rain.
“Go on Charlie. Look at it. Look hard at what you’ve done. And then ask yourself. Is this really worth it?”
He tries to stand but his legs are completely numb and he falls down on his side. He answers the voice without questioning it.
“I don’t know what to think right now.”
“I know what your thinking Charlie. You’re thinking the same thing that everyone is thinking when they find themselves in this very position. Do I deserve to die?”
He blinks almost involuntarily.


“I don’t recall asking that . But I suppose it is a good question. So do I? deserve to die I mean?”
He can feel the moisture of the rain as it begins to seep through his clothes, but the voice is all that he can hear now.
“I would think that a better question to ask yourself is do I really deserve to live?”
“I have a life. A wife. Two beautiful kids.. A big house. Cars.”
“No Charlie. That isn’t your life. that’s your existence. Your work that’s your life isn’t it?”
He looks up at the rain unable to answer. The cold water splashes across his face . Too many things that he REALLY did want to do, but never had quite enough time in his daily schedule. He wanted to take his son fishing. Be there when his daughter scored the winning goal in her soccer game. To look into the eyes of his beautiful wife to tell her how much he really did love her.
“ Funny isn’t it Charlie? How so many people- no. too many people spend the most important part of their lives trying to make a living . Too busy to actually do any living.”

Epiphany.
++++++++++++

Now he can’t hear anything. More rain comes. The numbness, the emptiness returns, filling him, he lays there waiting for the voice to return. He certain that he will not survive beyond this night.
“Emma.. I wish you were here baby. I’m so cold without you. Hug the kids. Tell them to pray for daddy.”
“So. that’s it then? Ready to give up are you?. Hmmm. Charlie. Is that what you really want to do? Give up?. But there’s a catch there too Charlie. You’re not just giving up on you, you’re giving up on them too.”
“ But. If I’m going to die? .. How can I . stop it? I have no control over-”
“Charles Hatcher.. I am about to do you a great service. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Oh its not a huge secret.. In fact there are people in the world who have always known it. You see, Charlie think about. Life isn’t about control. The wealthy think that their money gives them complete control over their destiny, with it they fight with age, they fool themselves into thinking that life is forever, and they can buy their way out of anything. But control Charlie. It’s merely an illusion. No one is in control. No one knows what fate holds in store for them. Life isn’t about control Charlie, it’s all about-.”




He hears them in the distance roaring over the beating rain, sirens. Sweet beautiful sirens. And as the ambulance pulls up to the over turned vehicle he knows they will find him. The voices seem distant, but are distinct.
“C’mon Joey. Find him. She said that he was laying in the tall grass.”
And as suddenly as the world had turned upside down they were on him, picking him up, putting him on the stretcher.
“You’re not a ghost Charlie.. Not yet anyway.”
“His blood pressure is normal.. Heart rate normal. He has a few minor cuts but that’s about it. We’ll have to check him for broken bones though, lets get him to Mercy Hospital.”
They’re loading him now, and as they pick up the stretcher and carry it to the ambulance, he sees in the rain the Crow that has landed on the top of the back of the ambulance staring down at him.



“No control Charlie. Only what is and what isn’t. oh you will survive life.
But the living part. that’s up to you.”
No one was there to see. No one saw. And yet the woman on the phone that had identified herself as Emma Hatcher knew that her husband had an accident, and knew exactly where the accident took had taken place. The ambulance driver closes the door and pauses to look up at the Crow sitting on the top of the carriage. He smiles at his partner nodding towards the Crow. .
“Maybe he told her where the accident was.”
They laugh nervously at the beautiful bird. And return to the front of the ambulance. And the crow returns to the air. For he knows that there are enough restless spirits here tonight already, roaming their world, searching endlessly for unreachable answers here on Crows Crossing Road.

~Scratch A.B.T. Copyright © 2008.~