See previous post ("Holy crap! I just saw a car plow into a baby store!") for the background on this one.
OK, so now they're (still) clearing wreckage away from the store. The entire front face is just about gone, with only the doors left, really. The cinder-blocks seem to have mostly pulled apart, more than they actually broke; in fact, I saw a guy walk right on top of a loose one with no trouble. When they were hoisting the car onto the tow truck, a cinder-block was stuck to the bottom, too - an entire block, mind you - and it simply fell limply to the ground, with a small, pathetic sort of ka-chunk, as if it were no more surprising or impressive then the tiny shards of glass that were falling off at the same time.
The support frame for the windows is just about completely gone; hanging down in its place is a long, silvery metal-encased thing supporting either a light switch or an outlet - probably still working, though I don't bother getting close enough to see for sure, let alone bother to ask. Some of the Styrofoam-y ceiling tiles are gone now, as is much of the insulation material for the front part of the ceiling; you can the whitewashed metal bones of the ceiling from below. Apparently, though, the roof is stable; the crime-scene tape that was wrapped around the car before the tow truck came is both gone, and has gone unreplaced and workers are already clearing the wreckage from the storefront.
There's still a scattering of the shattered remains of what used to be tempered-glass windows all around the front of the store. It's bizarrely pretty; like chunks of ice or crystal if you look at the little piles, or like stained glass without the stain if you look more closely at the larger of the individual pieces. There's tiny fractures inside each smooth-faced chunk, in an almost cobweb-like pattern. Not the stereotypical, Halloween-y cobweb pattern, but the one you get with less predictable spiders, the loose and scraggly kind that still manages to look like it's got a purpose or pattern to it. The sunlight catches in the cracks, and it's honestly kind of cool-looking. It seems so strange to see something so beautiful come out of a moment of chaotic, terrifying destruction. I actually have a mad urge to take some chunks to use in an art project, but the owners of the store are so shaken up and I'm sure that would be just plain rude not to mention outright insensitive right now, so I don't.
Apparently, this is what happened: the older woman in the car was trying to park in front of the store and, well... she hit the wrong peddle. Very much the wrong peddle. Thankfully, she must have realized it pretty quickly, since it stopped only a few feet into the store. But the lady working there said she was terrified, thinking it wouldn't stop at all. I know exactly what she means, actually; anyone who's been hit by a car or been in a serious accident would (I got hit while riding my bike when I was 13, if you're wondering). It's the adrenaline kicking in; it makes everything seem to happen so slowly that whatever's coming at you seems like it really will never stop, and afterwards you realize that you can barely remember anything of the experience except for a few snapshot-like images (a momentary view of azure sky as you fly off your bike, the tire or headlights of the incoming vehicle...) and the slow-mo horror of HOLY CRAP CAR WHAT THE HELL CAR CAR CAR COMING CAR WHAT THE-! And you remember it as so being so tortuously long that you in hindsight wonder why you spent so long standing there or laying there flinching, instead of running or rolling out of the way a little more.
The woman's still shaken up, even over three hours later. I don't blame her in the least.
She also said that not five minutes prior to the car crashing through their front window, a woman her adorable little blonde, blue-eyed infant daughter were browsing the front of the store. Yes. In exactly the same part of the store where the car came through a couple of minutes later. The store owner informed me that a couple of cribs that had been in the front were damaged from the force of the crash.
If that child had still been there...
If that child had still been there...
Yeah.
It's like 80 or 90 degrees out there... but a shiver went through me just then.
-Jamie
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1 comment:
Jamie - It's funny how paths cross and hopefully you won't mind my path-crossing intrusion. I read your comment at Dan Water's blog (Gen Dead author) and felt compelled to stop by for a quick hello.
First, Dan's a friend of mine and I'm thrilled you like his book. It's indeed wonderful, as is Dan. But mostly what I wanted to mention is YOUR writing. I was seriously impressed (and no doubt Dan will be) with the writing in your blog comment. As I was reading along I found it hard to believe that a student was writing something with such mature clarity and smooth prose. No offense to students, but I know a lot of adult writers who don't have such a refined yet lively style.
Anyway, my whole point of contacting you was just to let you know that I noticed your talent and want to encourage you to really pursue that publishing dream. I suspect you'll accomplish it in far less than that decade you mentioned.
Wishing you success and ease on the path to your dreams.
Very Best Regards,
Fran Friel
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