Christmas At Wjtw 1590 Am Ch 02

This is the second part of Christmas at WJTW -- 1590 AM. Hopefully, this part will come out quickly behind the first.

As before, I edited this story myself, so I own any errors that you will undoubtably will find.

I lay there in my crumpled car, going in and out of consciousness. I had no idea how long I had been there because the battery in my phone had died. When I was conscious, my thoughts went from my current situation to the presentation I was supposed to be making and now would be missing. A sadness would just sweep over me when I thought about messing up any chance of getting the Sterling people to consider our location. For me, the consequences were far worse than just losing an opportunity to bring a new employer to the area. I could see my whole life crumbling before me. I was going to lose everything, and worse, I had let the whole community down.

I passed out again, and when I woke up, the snow was falling at a furious rate, and the wind was howling. I was so cold, and my chest hurt. I coughed, and I saw blood in the snow. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that I was in a bad way. Yet, all I could think about was what a mess I had made of my life. I just felt so tired and defeated. I wanted to give up, close my eyes and just let go of life.

Then I heard something.

I called out for help, but no one answered. I called again, and that started me coughing. I saw more blood in the snow. Then I heard someone coming down the hillside. When I looked up, it was Henry heading over to me.

"Tom, thank God, I found you," Henry said as he hurried forward.

"What are you doing up here?" my question came sounding raspy.

"I came looking for you," Henry said as he crouched and then sat down. "I figured you'd be dumb enough to take the mountain road."

"Have you called for help," I asked and coughed again. Now I felt the pain in my chest.

Henry shook his head sadly. "I've got no cell reception. I tried when my car got stuck in the snow earlier. I walked the last half-mile or so before I found where your car left the road. I was really scared you might be dead."

"I'm not that lucky," I coughed again, and more blood appeared in the snow. "But it doesn't matter; I've messed everything up. I should have stayed on the main road. I would have been late, but I could still have done the presentation. Now Milton and all the surrounding areas are going to suffer because I screwed up."

"Stop being so hard on yourself," Henry said sternly. "You didn't screw up anything. In fact, if it wasn't for you, nobody in our area would have probably ever heard of Sterling."

"I so tired, Henry. I'm tired of being such a loser. I'm tired in my body and soul. I just want to close my eyes and let go."

"Stop it, Tom," Henry seemed almost angry. "You are no loser."

I tried to laugh, but all that came out was a harsh cough. I looked but couldn't tell if I had spit up any more blood because the tiny bit of light from the electronics in my car was beginning to fade.

"I'm such a loser, Henry, that my wife dumped me. She all but told me I was useless. Now I'm going to lose the radio station, and I'll probably have to file for bankruptcy. Even Traci finally figured out what a loser I am and left. It would have been much better if I had never come to Milton. At least Amanda wouldn't have run into Chad, and I would probably still be married. Coming to Milton was a huge mistake."

"You can't really believe that, Tom," Henry said with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, I do," I said with a cough. "My life and everyone else's would be much better if I hadn't come to town. But it looks like that won't matter because I don't think I will make it out of here alive. I'm so cold, and I hurt so bad."

"Well, I don't accept any of that crap, Tom," Henry said with some force in his voice and a tear running down his cheek. "If you hadn't come to Milton, I never would have met you. And I happen to believe that you're one of the best things to happen to our town."

I was totally surprised by Henry's emotional outpouring. I considered him a very good friend, and I worried about him because of his health. But I never knew his feelings ran that deep. Still, it didn't change my mind.

"You've always been very kind to me, Henry, but even my own father didn't think much of me. He left my mom when I was eight. Face it, I'm a screw-up, and I'm too tired to care anymore."

"You are so wrong, Tom," Henry said firmly. "And I'm going to convince you of that before this night is over. But, right now, we've got to keep you alive."

"Don't bother; I'm just not worth it."

"Bullshit."

Sweeping the snow from around the window where I lay trapped, Henry cleared out about a two- or three-foot diameter area that exposed the ground. There he found brown leaves, twigs, and sticks. Because of the cold, none of these items were damp. Henry reached into the car and grabbed some loose pieces of paper; they were probably old gas receipts. He crumpled the leaves and the paper, placing them on the freshly swept ground. Then the twigs were placed on top of that, with small sticks and larger sticks piled on the top.

Henry shielded the area with his body and pulled a lighter from his pocket, setting fire to the leaves and paper. Henry put the lighter down next to me and began to feed additional small twigs onto the flame. I smiled as I looked at his lighter. It had been given to him by his wife when he mustered out of the Marine Corps. The Corps emblem was on the front with his years of service engraved below. Henry cherished that lighter and carried it everywhere.

Once the twigs began to burn, Henry pushed the smaller sticks directly over the fire. Henry swept even more snow away and pulled out more sticks which he piled next to the fire. It wasn't a big fire, but it did throw off some warmth that I felt wash over my face first. Little by little, the biting cold ebbed a little bit. But as I began to warm, my body began to throb with pain.

At first, neither Henry nor I said anything as I stared at the dancing flames and contemplated the ruin that was my life. I don't know if I fell asleep or I passed out, but I do remember the dream or rather the nightmare I had. It started with me standing in front of the house Amanda and I rented in Greenville with a young man I didn't recognize next to me.

"This is where I used to live," I told the young man.

"Yes, I know," he replied as he stood watching me.

I looked around and saw a Mercedes in the driveway that was brand new. I didn't recognize the license plate number, but the expiration date indicated the current year.

The front door opened, and I saw a strange man step out. Then Amanda appeared and took one step out, looking quickly around. She was wearing a see-through nighty that hid nothing. Amanda kissed the man full on the lips.

"Are you sure I can't stay longer?" the man asked.

"No, Tom will be home in an hour, and I need to get cleaned up," Amanda said with a giggle. "I probably don't have to get cleaned up because he's pretty clueless. But I don't want to take the chance of him catching us. He's in line for a huge promotion, and when he gets that, I'll spring the divorce on him."

I was shocked and started screaming at my wife. "You bitch! Get your whoring ass out of my house!" However, neither of them even looked in my direction. Apparently, they couldn't hear me.

"They can't hear you," the young man confirmed. "Remember, you said that if you'd never come to Milton, at least you'd still be married to Amanda. Well, you were right about that. You're still married to her. Is this the happy marriage you thought you'd have?

I started up the driveway to see if I could inflict some bodily damage on the asshole that was fucking my wife. I had never hit a woman in my life. But I was seriously thinking about making an exception for Amanda. But before I took my third step, the scene changed.

When the image cleared, I was standing in the snow outside a dilapidated trailer with the young man still by my side. A police cruiser and an ambulance were out front with their lights flashing. I looked around and recognized the trailer park, but the last time I'd passed it, it didn't seem to be as run-down as it was now. Another police car rolled up, and the officer got out.

"What have you got here, Fred?" the newly arrived officer asked of his fellow officer.

"Overdose. It's that Sunders kid. The EMT thinks he got a "hotshot" of that new crap heroin that recently hit the streets. No big loss; the kid was a total loser anyway."

"Yeah, he was a pain in the ass. That kid never finished high school and never had a full-time job. He was always getting busted for one thing after another. He just got out of prison for that attempted convenience store robbery up on 303."

"What a total fucktard he was. Who uses a squirt gun in a holdup? And the asshole wasn't smart enough to empty the water out of it. When the clerk saw the gun leaking, he took a baseball bat to Jimmy."

"No!" I screamed. "It can't be Jimmy. He did finish high school. Jimmy didn't want to go to the graduation ceremony because he didn't want anyone to see his alcoholic mother. But I convinced him to go, and I arranged to have Traci get his mother sober and dressed up. Then I convinced about a dozen people to come with me to the ceremony. When they announced Jimmy's name, we all jumped up and started waving our "Way to go Jimmy!" signs and blowing our party horns. It brought a roar from everyone there, and I saw tears in Jimmy's eyes. I think it was the first time he ever felt that anyone cared about him."

"That never happened because you didn't come to Milton," the young man said sadly.

"It must be a night for losers," I heard the second officer say. "I just heard over the radio that they found Lew Talbot dead in an alley off of third street. He was clutching a half-full bottle of scotch."

"The way he drank, it was only a matter of time," Fred said with a shake of his head. "Nice enough guy, but a real boozer."

"No, that isn't right either," I sobbed. "Lew gave up drinking."

"No, he didn't," the young man said. "He had no reason to stop drinking."

I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I thought about Lew and looked at the emaciated body of Jimmy while they started to zip the body bag up. I dropped to my knees, closed my eyes, and started to cry. But then the scene shifted again, and when I opened my eyes, I was kneeling on the town's main street in the middle of the day. The town seemed to be unusually empty of people. Suddenly, I noticed that more than half of the stores were vacant. Milton was not a ghost town, but it wasn't far from becoming one.

I struggled to my feet. "What happened? Okay, the economy was bad, but not this bad."

"Don't you get it?" the young man asked. "You never moved here. No one ever knew anything about Sterling Pharmaceuticals. They located their factory somewhere else in North Carolina. Sterling wasn't the only company you were looking at. You had dug out information on others as well. Because you weren't part of the search, nothing happened. The town has hit rock bottom, and it will take a long time for things to get better if they ever will."

I looked at the young man in shock. Then the scene changed again.

When my eyes focused, I was standing in the parking lot of the abandoned Walmart. There was snow on the ground, and the wind was whipping one way and then another. Then I saw a car parked in the shadows of the deserted building. It seemed strange that there was that one car behind the building. I wondered if someone had abandoned it. So, I started over to check it out. As I got closer, the car started to look familiar. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks; that was Traci's car.

I took off at a sprint toward the car, praying that it was empty. But as I got closer, I could see a figure in the back seat.

"No, no, no, no!" I screamed.

When I got to the car, I looked in the window and saw Traci and Kimberly huddled together with a thin blanket around them. "Wake up, Traci! Traci baby, come on, wake up, honey. Please wake up, please wake up." I yelled through the window. But even just looking through the glass, I could see that they were dead.

"This can't be," I wailed. "Traci has a key to the station. She wouldn't have kept Kimberly out in this cold. Traci would have taken her back there no matter how mad she was with me."

"There is no station because you never came to Milton," the young man said quietly with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the mother and daughter.

I was overwhelmed with an emotional pain that caused me to collapse. I cried piteously as I lay on the snow-covered parking lot.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the little fire, and Henry watching me.

"How do you feel," he asked with deep concern.

"Not good," I said weakly.

"I'm going to see if I can find some help," he said as he stood up. "You have to stay awake. If you go to sleep, you won't wake up."

I watched Henry climb the embankment until he was out of sight. But my mind was racing. The dream had been so real that tears had streamed down my cheeks and now were frozen. I don't know how long I lay there, but I was really hurting and having trouble breathing. But what was even worse was that I was so tired. I just wanted to close my eyes for a few minutes. But Henry had told me to stay awake, so I tried really hard to do so. But I was losing the battle and could feel my eyelids begin to close.

My eyes had just closed when I heard voices calling my name. I tried to yell back, but I had no strength. Even so, I heard their voices get louder, and then an EMT was kneeling in front of me.

"Mr. Ambrose, can you hear me?" the man shouted at me.

I nodded.

"Good, I need you to stay with me," he said as he felt for my pulse. Then he turned to someone else. "Tell them to hurry! He's in a bad way, and we've got to get him out of here right now."

The EMT rubbed my face and my hands while others gathered wood to feed into the small fire that was barely burning. Soon, the fire was a fair-sized one, and it put out more warmth. But I was so tired and hurt so bad, and none of the warmth was getting to my legs. Besides, all I wanted to do was sleep.

I heard a loud buzzing sound and could hear the metal of my car groan and crack. It came to me that they were using the "Jaws of Life" to break me free. Sometimes the noise was so close to me that it scared me slightly. Finally, they slid me out of the car, placing me on a stretcher.

As I rode in the ambulance, I was barely conscious but suddenly very ashamed of myself. I've never been a quitter, but while I lay out in my crushed car, I was ready to give up. Anger surged through my body, directed solely at myself. I swore I would never quit ever again, and I was now ready for the fight ahead. In my mind, I knew that I probably was going to lose it all, but they were going to have to drag me kicking and screaming out of the station. I promised myself that I would keep that station on the air until the Sheriff came or the power company turned off the electricity. Then things got very fuzzy.

The last thing I heard was, "Get him prepped for surgery, stat."

I woke up sometime later. It was still dark, and I didn't know where I was. But I felt that someone was holding my hand. I tried to see who it was, but I faded away. When I woke up again, the sun was shining, but no one was around.

I don't know how long I drifted in and out of consciousness, but one time when I woke, Doctor Anderson was standing next to my bed studying my chart. He was my primary care physician.

"Welcome back, Tom," Dr. Anderson said with a smile. "It was touch and go for a while there. You sustained four broken ribs, and one of them punctured a lung. There are three broken bones in your right foot. But it was the hypothermia that worried them the most. If they hadn't found you when they did, you would have frozen to death. It was really smart on your part to start that fire. That's what probably saved your life."

"I didn't start the fire," I corrected the doctor, "Henry did."

"Henry Wilson?" Dr. Anderson looked at me strangely.

"Yeah, he found me first and started the fire."

"That's not possible," the doctor said, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but Henry died of a massive heart attack sometime yesterday in the early afternoon. I believe it was one of your employees, Jimmy Sunders, who found him on his kitchen floor. He called 911, but Henry was already dead when they got him to the emergency room."

"That can't be, doctor," I insisted, convinced Dr. Anderson had made a mistake. "Henry found me in my car and started that fire. I saw him and talked to him."

"I'm sure what you saw was a hallucination," the doctor said calmly. "Remember, you'd just been through a terrible car accident, you thought you were hurt badly, and you were slowly freezing to death. Your mind defaulted to someone you trusted -- to someone you thought could save you. It's a natural reaction to the situation you were in."

I turned that over in my mind and had to agree that the doctor's explanation made much more sense than a dead man starting a fire for me.

A few hours after I woke up in ICU, they transferred me to a regular room.

My mind began to clear, and depression settled over me. But surprisingly to me, I wasn't depressed about the station. Of course, I worried about it, but I teared up every time I thought about Henry. And my heart hurt at the thought that I'd lost Traci and Kimberly.

Henry had been the first person I really got to know on our street. And over the years, even though he was thirty or so years older than me, we became close friends. Henry had been born in Milton, and the only time he ever lived anywhere else was when he enlisted in the Marines.

He spent three years in the service, two of them fighting in Viet Nam. He told me some stories about being in combat, and they chilled me to the bone. Yet, he came out of that horror the same kind and caring man that he went into it as. Henry claimed Ellie's love kept him grounded and happy.

Henry married his wife, Ellie, shortly before his second tour in Viet Nam. They were married forty-six years when Ellie had a heart attack and died. And when she passed, Henry's world collapsed. But with his wide range of friends, Henry was able to rebuild some semblance of a new life. And I always felt privileged that I was part of that new life.

Finally, I had to put my thoughts about Henry aside and force myself to think about the almost impossible struggle to save the station. When I finally called, I was relieved that Jimmy had answered. At least someone was there. He assured me that everything was being taken care of. Scott had even fixed the main transmitter and believes he knows why the Sparta overheats. He had already ordered the parts for that transmitter. I wanted to talk to Jimmy in more detail, but I had to cut the call short because Stan had just walked into my room.

"Thank God we found you, Tom," Stan said with a shaky voice. "We've had more than half the town out looking for you. You scared us all to death."

"Stan, I'm really sorry about that. And I even sorrier about missing the meeting with Sterling" I apologized. "I shouldn't have taken the mountain road. I just didn't want to be late."

"Tom, you don't have to apologize for anything," Stan said as he patted my shoulder. "As for Sterling, I don't know where that stands. When you didn't show, I went into the meeting and started to give as much of the presentation as I could remember. Then I got the call that you were missing, so I explained what was happening and that the town was mobilizing to find you and left."

"I'm sure we'll get the thanks but no thanks letter in due time," I said, even more depressed.