And this fucking guy’s just standing next to
his crumped up car, not really showing any signs of appreciation for still
being alive, crying; just crying and
crying and sobbing, whimpering about how many years he’s worked to get that car
and something or other about the insurance, un-signed papers, no chance of it
being covered ‘cos he ran up some guy’s arse and I’m just happening to be
there, at the scene, walking past after getting a burger and some chips from
the local fish ‘n’ chips, just happening by and now stuck with this tidal wave
of emotion coming from this old geezer, obviously fairly conservative and
evidently highly attached to some of the things of this world and I can’t help
but feel the god damn weight, standing there on the road, stopping, chewing the
mushed ball of burger and chips in my mouth, even pulling my beanie off like
some symbol of respect, of mourning like the guy’s just seen a family member crushed
to death in an accident but there’s no trace of blood or biological pain of any
kind, just a bunged up car and lots of glass and the people he hit are trying
to exchange details but the dude’s just grieving like you wouldn’t believe; he
can’t speak, he’s wailing now and hitting the ground and I look around, sort of
panicked, a little taken aback by just how much of this bugger’s grief is
creeping into me and so I wander over to try mediating the exchange but it just
gets messier, I can’t quite speak at the sight of him, my heart’s beating
harder than when I regarded my late grandfather’s dead body at his funeral
service—there’s just so much happening!
and FUCK he’s seen me now and the sobs are directed to me, he can see my
vulnerability, my strangely active compassion at the situation and now we’re
both sort of sobbing and crying, I’m still trying to speak, to organise between
the two parties an exchange of details for practical reasons, to do with after
this mess is cleaned up and we can all just get on with our FUCKING lives; god,
my appetite is completely gone now, I throw the burger and chips to the side
and kneel down before the guy and listen to his sorrowful, sobbing words, it’s all over now, he groans, she’ll leave me and the kids will leave me
without my car OH GOD my only asset, my pride and joy I drive every weekend to
the country to see the stars to see the paddocks and my old Aunt’s house out in
Red Hill and to jet the kids to school in the morning because they can’t walk
it’s too far, way too far and the other parents there who all love my car, just
love it and I’ll never get the insurance for this, NEVER! how can I go on,
now? HOW? and on and on like this he
goes, spluttering at times and eventually there’s spit drooling from his mouth
like a baby and the other party, a mother and daughter, are just completely
dumbfounded, at a complete loss as to what to do and now I feel my own sobs as
I kneel next to him and I start to feel a little tingling rage welling up
within me, it’s so distant but fuck it’s real, it grows and grows and I know
how ridiculous it is but the power of this guy’s grief has entered me like
venom and I start to scowl at the mother and daughter, at the wrecker’s of this
guy’s car and thus his life, his reason
for living, even though it’s all so outrageously superficial I’m completely
taken by it and can feel the damn fucking moron’s situation like it’s part of my
own perspective, even though it’s just a stupid car and why should anyone
invest so emotionally and practically into a car, have to rely on it so much
that such a tiny accident can ruin your whole life FUCK THAT it’s so silly, but
I sob and sob because he’s sobbing and sobbing, SHIT! I just wanted a burger
and some fries, some cheap greasy food before re-entering my nice warm house
with everything I need in it but now this, this pathetic situation I’ve
entangled myself in; there’s just silence now, I’ve caved completely and my
arm’s around him; his tantrum is slowly coming to an end—a very strange thing
to see in a businessman of about sixty years, like a toddler is trapped in that
body and just won’t be suppressed—and I shake him jovially in a way that says,
in that sort of hurried manner, it’s
gonna be alright, mate; you’re gonna make it through this; and in all its
ridiculous glory the scene seems slowly to be coming to an end, but wait,
what’s that? a siren—the cops?—no—an ambulance; excellent, now to see how
authorities respond to a man seemingly acting like a child whose toy has been
destroyed; but they won’t see the extended reasoning, they’ll probably just
usher him into the back of their van and try to calm him, try to rock the pain
away with some sort of sedative, it’s
alright, sir, the car’s a write off but you’re okay, one of them says,
approaching, not knowing just how much those words will reignite the fountain
of sorrow in this man; and there it is, he coos like an exotic bird, unable to
get anything but infantile gasps out in response to this new reminder; I get up
now, wiping the tears from my face—I’ve got to go; I’ve got to get out of this
strange situation, I’ve become way too involved; I sort of skip away, a strange
reactionary mode of movement not really chosen consciously, over to my
discarded food to see if any has survived and luckily it has, the burger’s in
the box still so I grab it and shoot off out of there, feeling like a
flash-rape victim, feeling like something so odd has happened I’ll never be
able to relay it to anyone in any decent, undisturbed fashion; as I go, the
wailing of the man seems to echo off the street walls, my beautiful car! he’s
crying, my beautiful, beautiful car
and it’s all just too fucking much, so I start to run to escape it, I run and
run, around corners and bends, down long streets and through alleys, until
nothing remains but the echoes of memory, the uncomfortable feelings of having
been heavily involved in one of the strangest scenes I can recall in my entire
life; I push the burger down my throat, cry a little more and head for home,
wanting only to make a cup of tea, sit down, read a book and forget this whole
thing; but I can’t; I get to my house and everything’s changed, nothing is what
it seemed like before—I’ve been defiled forever by my own unyielding compassion
in a situation the universe decided to curve-ball to my arse when I least
suspected it.
What
the fuck!?
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