Surviving the crash

It was a regular day. The sun baking down on the dirt lot behind our house, which we had transformed the best we could into a race track for the new go-cart our uncle won in a beer promotion from the local grocery store. The thorny blackberry bushes and towering weeds whipped around in the dry afternoon wind, creating a border that we weren't supposed to pass without permission from an adult.  

Same as every day, we played outside making up games and goofing around with our two cousins until we were forced to come inside for some necessity like dinner. This particular day, I’ll never forget. We were bored with the track, and just about everything else in life, and wanted to explore new ground. I was young, too short to drive the go-cart alone. My brother helped by taking turns either steering or maneuvering the pedals. We were team riding when it happened.

We both took firm hold of our positions and stubbornness set in like rigor mortis. Or at least after our punishment, we probably wished it was rigor mortis. We moved one set of tires out of the way and escaped the race track. We were on our own, making up our own set of rules along the way at lightning speed with very little to absolutely no forethought of the next step. I floored the gas as we made the first turn into the adjacent open field, weeds crashed down in front of us. The only thing in our line of site once we cleared the field was the house – our house. As it got closer and closer, I looked up and saw it. His grin – a devilish look took over and I knew he was challenging me. He always challenged me. We eyed each other for a brief second and knew one of us would have to give up. I’d have to let go of the gas and break completely or he’d have to turn, changing our destructive course. Neither of us liked to back down, especially not to each other.

At the very last possible second, common sense re-entered both our consciousnesses. Unfortunately, the epiphany came too late to be effective. I slammed on the break, he whipped the wheel to the left and we crashed sideways through the basement of the house, tumbling right out of the go-cart.

I remember thinking one of us better be severely injured or we were both about to be as the kitchen door flew open and the screaming began. We knew we were both to blame and for the first few moments while the dust settled down around us and before the shrill voices of others drew too near, we looked at each other with that same devilish grin knowing we were both okay and together we’d get through it. Whatever “it” was about to be didn’t matter because we had each other. That would never change.

Until it did. Five years ago today, August 1^st, he died and forever took a piece of me with him. I’d have gladly crashed through life with him forever taking the blame if he’d have only let me help, trusted that I'd either have found a way out or went down in flames with him. So stubborn, wasteful and pointless – same as our crash.