I went to
the dentist yesterday. I was scheduled at 3.40 pm. Had to take the bus to town
at 1 pm to get in time and do some holiday shopping – or rather said stuff we
actually need on any given day not just at Christmas. The scenario was not new. Have done the same
things several times in the past few weeks, even the part about meeting a
former student in the bus station going in the same direction.
Had my
Loreena McKennit selection ready and I was listening, as I always do when I go
on a longer than five minutes bus drive, on my headphones, thinking about new
ways to put my characters from a book that happens after the one I am currently
working on in danger; or fix their problems. My mind works well with music. It
can go into a myriad of places given the right kind of music. I praise the guy (or
guys) who invented music. Those primitive people who discovered pounding animal
skins and who knows what else they used
actually make for beautiful sounds are
my heroes.
I was
listening to Caravanserai when the
bus had to stop. The first thing I noticed was the ambulance lights. Then the
crowd, mostly kids, some adults. Then the police. A girl, most likely younger
than me, was taking pictures of the numbered signs an older officer placed on
the road for her.
Some of the
passengers got out of the bus. . A few started smoking (‘cause they wanna die
young.) Even the driver got off, talking on the phone. The next song started
slow so I was able to hear him saying that there had been an accident and he
will be late.
In all this
time, the one thing I noticed in the distance was a spot on the side of the
road that was shinier than others.
Something liquid had been spilled there recently, on the black ground. But
the girl kept taking pictures of apparently nothing in the road then of a car
parked on the other side from us. From
all angles. From everywhere. And two guys were holding something that looked
like a giant measuring instrument. She
was moving very quick.
An elderly
policeman signaled all the cars that came behind us, my bus was first in line,
to pull over and wait. In front, the line was getting longer from the other
direction.
I didn’t
take my headphones on for one second the whole time. I even took a few pictures
from my window. A very boring landscape. I should have gotten off the bus and
taken pictures of what was going on in front. Of the police at work. Of the
crowd. Of that shiny wet spot the girl
went to photograph from all angles and a guy measured it with a smaller ruler.
But I didn’t. I knew what was going on, I knew what the wet spot was and,
contrary to my instinct to take photos of everything out of the ordinary, I
refrained myself.
After a
while I was wondering if I will get in time for my dentist’s appointment. Almost
decided to take off my headphones to hear what was going on when the driver
sprinted towards the bus along with the other passengers that were out. And off
we went.
The wet
shiny spot was on my side of the bus and I looked. Not exactly as I imagined it
would be but at least it was what I had guessed in my mind and decided to
ignore. A large pool of coagulated blood. It looked like a mass of dark red
jelly, I suppose, and, as I passed by it and looked, I was only reminded how
fragile we really are. On the surface, humans seem invincible but we are just
bags of bones, flesh and blood.
I think
about these things sometimes. I don’t know how many people do. Could be many,
could be a few. Never been exposed to mortality
like that before though. That sticky red gelatine was once part of a living body.
And now it was out. (the following day I
learned an old lady had been hit and killed by that orange car. )
I believe I
watch a fair amount of violent and bloody movies and television shows. I hear people being terrified by horror
movies, having nightmares and such. I watched
stuff like that from an early age and I think I am somewhat immunized at this point. I simply am not impressed. I can
see all the blood in the world, entrails and brains and have no reaction at
all. (okay, maybe only The Walking Dead can stir fear in my stomach but that
does not mean I am gonna stop watching. On the contrary.) When the situation
requires, I even get to write disturbingly violent scenes with my characters. My indifference is probably a result of the
fact I know they are not true. None of it. And I know it.
That pool
of blood on the side of the road was very real though. Too real.
Like most
things, I don’t wanna think about it. Just imagine what would it be like if
everyone stared thinking about their own mortality all of a sudden. No shrink
in the world can fix that. The fear of our own ending, only topped by the fear
of a loved one’s end.
Such happy
thoughts one day before Christmas Eve. Maybe I need a shrink. Though, I already
have one. It is very cheap. You only need a few things: a notebook and a pen. Or
anything you can write on.
Anyway, I arrived
on time at the dentist but had to wait because a man went in before me for an
emergency. Then I spent over an hour with the doctor drilling and cleaning in
my mouth, waiting for a minor bleeding to stop before moving on to the next
procedure. All this without a drop of anesthetic. Because I didn’t need any. The
nerves had been previously removed.
The big
suspense was if she will finish in time for me to catch the last bus home. I so
hate it that I have to depend on busses.
No comments:
Post a Comment