The car came out of nowhere. At least that's what it seemed like. The lights had turned to green, Tony had started to move off and we were half-way across when there was this almighty crash and the car was spun around in a circle. When the world stopped spinning, and my brain started working again, I realized we'd been hit - and hard - by someone running a red light.
The engine had stopped in the melee, and there was a sudden, profound silence, punctuated by Tony's muffled curses.
"Hey, man. You okay?" I said, realizing that I seemed to be unhurt, but then we'd been hit on the driver's side, and Tony was driving, not me.
"I'm not sure," Tony said, and I turned to him, alarmed, startled to see his face all bloody, blood which later turned out to be from a mostly superficial cut on his scalp, but the bodywork of the car on his side had been caved in, the safety glass of the side windshield - and the main windshield, come to that - had disintegrated, and it looked like his leg was trapped. He reached down, and I saw his face whiten, his gasp clearly audible, before he turned to me, "I think my leg's been broken," he said, strain - pain - in his voice.
The world outside had come to life, and someone loomed up, a passer-by, maybe another driver, looking worried.
"Are you guys okay?"
"I am, I think my friend has a broken leg," I said.
"I called the police, and the ambulance service," said the stranger.
"What happened to the other car?"
"It's in the ditch just past the intersection."
"What about the driver?"
"I think he's drunk," said the stranger, a disgusted tone in his voice.
"At ten in the morning?" I said, startled.
"Yeah, I know. Can you get out?"
I tried my door, and with a lot of shoving, and with the other guy pulling, got it open. Out of the car, I looked around. There were quite a few people around, and several cars behind us had stopped, with people showing the unmistakable, avid curiosity of those not involved. I moved around to Tony's side of the car and winced. Side protection or not, the other car had hit us just forward of the pillar between front and rear doors, and the driver's side door was a crumpled mess of metal. I heaved on the handle. Nothing. Tony glanced up at me and gave me a wry smile. And passed out. Alarmed, I felt for his pulse. Strong and steady, and I relaxed.
"Passed out?" said the stranger.
"Yeah. His pulse is steady."
"Possibly for the best. There's nothing anyone can do until someone brings some cutting gear." He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and passed me a business card. "You'd better take that, in case you need a witness. I was right behind you, and you didn't move until the green." He gave me a wry smile. "Several seconds after the green, in fact. I was just about to hit the horn and wake you up. If you'd gone immediately the light was green, that idiot would have hit me, instead."
"We were discussing the game," I said, matching his smile. "Tony's brother was playing." I pointed. "That's Tony."
We could hear sirens getting closer, and a few moments later the junction was busy with uniforms. There was confusion for a few minutes until cutting gear was organized, but about half an hour after we'd been hit, Tony was in Emergency being treated for his injuries. I sat, helpless, and waited. It was about forty minutes later when a tired doctor came over to me.
"Are you Andrew Gillespie?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"I'm Doctor Collins. Are you a relative of Mr. Larsen?"
"No, just a friend."
"Is there anyone who should be informed?"
"Tony's parents are in Australia, on holiday. We're staying with his aunt for a week or two, a break from college."
"Perhaps she should be told?"
"Of course, I'll do it straight away. But first, how is he? So I can let her know?"
He nodded. "Superficial cuts, messy, but unlikely to leave any significant scarring; I'm pretty sure they're all from the broken windshields. He has a cracked rib, and a broken leg. It's a bad break, two places, and we're going to need to keep him in for a little while, to make sure it starts to heal properly."
"Nothing life-threatening?"
The doctor gave me a tired smile. "Nothing as bad as that, but he won't be running for a while. You'll make that call?"
"Straight away."
"If his aunt wants to ask any questions, check at the nursing station." He pointed. "They'll know where I am." He nodded, gave me another tired smile and went off to his next emergency. I finally remembered the phone in my pocket, and went out into the fresh summer morning to ring Tony's aunt. His aunt Lucy. His aunt Lucy who had peopled my dreams ever since I'd met her a week earlier. His aunt Lucy whose imagined nakedness had occupied my mind every time I'd masturbated, something which had happened a lot since Tony and I had arrived to stay with her. There was no doubt in me at all, that Lucy McKeen, thirty-something, divorced, and living alone in a lovely house, with its own indoor swimming pool in a converted barn, was a very desirable woman. Very. Chances of anything happening between us? Her in her thirties, and me just beginning college? Somewhere between infinitesimal and zero was my best guess.
She answered after a short delay, slightly breathless. "Hello?"
"Um, Lucy. Hi, it's Andrew, Andrew Gillespie."
"Oh, hi, Andy. Sorry, I was in the pool. Something up?" There was no alarm in her tone, and I guessed she thought we'd run out of gas, or something.
"Um, yes, I'm afraid there is. We've been in an accident. Tony's leg has been broken."
There was a gasp, and then her urgent, but calm, not panicking, tone. "Where is he, and where are you?"
"He's in St. Agnes'. We're in emergency. I'm in the waiting room."
"Stay put. I'll be there just as soon as I can. Okay?"
"Yes," I said. I started to say something else, but the line was dead. I shrugged and went back inside to wait. It didn't take her long to reach the hospital, and I stood as she hurried through the door. She came straight to me.
"How is he?"
I smiled. "Sedated, I think. The doctor said it was a bad break, but there's nothing life-threatening. He has a few cuts, from flying glass, and a cracked rib, as well."
"Who's the doctor? Can I speak to him?" She paused, giving me a half-smile. "Or is it a her?
"It's a he. Doctor Collins. He said to ask at the nurses' station over there."
"Right," she said, and she was away. I watched the neat tick-tock of her ass as she moved away, in absorbed admiration of the poetry in motion of a good-looking woman.
It was another twenty minutes before I even spoke to her again, but she'd seen the doctor, seen Tony, organized contact numbers, and was on top of the situation in her usual efficient way. The hospital had told us that Tony wouldn't be really awake until the evening and we should come back then, and it was only when we reached her car to go back home that she faltered. She held her car keys out to me, and her hand was trembling.
"Will you drive, Andy? Suddenly, I'm shaking."
"Reaction, probably," I said, and she gave me a hesitant smile.
"Reaction, definitely." She sighed, then drew a deep breath. "I was worried."
"Of course you were, Tony's your nephew."
"Yes, but it wasn't just Tony, Andy. You as well." I glanced at her, but there was only honest concern on her face that I could see. We'd reached her car by then and I opened the door for her, then took my place behind the wheel.
"What actually happened, Andy?" she said as we fastened our seat belts.
"We were at a red light, at the Lake Road junction?"
"Yes, I know where you mean. And?"
"The lights changed to green, Tony started off, and this idiot ran the red light and hit us square on the driver's side. Next thing I knew, we'd been spun completely round, the engine had stopped and there was this awful silence, until Tony groaned."
"Witnesses?"
"Yes. Plenty. The car behind, the driver gave me his business card. We were a bit slow moving off when the lights changed, and he said if we'd been off the line quicker it would have been him that got hit. I think he's happy to be a witness, if necessary."
"What about the other driver?"
