Measure Twice, Cut Once

Measure Twice, Cut Once

By Lee Thomas

"There is something singular about the sound of a parent calling for a child who has suddenly disappeared into a crowd, near water, or a busy street. There is no hesitation or concern of embarrassment. There is only unadulterated terror and the anticipation of grief. Anyone can sense it, but a parent will have true empathy. You've probably heard someone use the expression, "he wears his heart on his sleeve". When you have a child that you love more than any other thing, you don't wear your heart anywhere at all. Your heart wanders off like a balloon with no string, independent of your body and often out of reach. If for some reason, that balloon were to burst; it may as well be your own heart."





  "Kailey, look out!"

  Brandon hurried toward the toboggan run, certain that there was no way to get to his daughter in time. With every step, his feet grew heavier in the deep, wet snow.

  Kailey was standing in the center of one of the trails near the bottom of the hill. She was walking absently, paying little attention to anything but the scarf that she fussed with. At the approaching sound of crunching snow and laughing boys she had frozen, panic-stricken on the slick track.

  Three teenage boys on an inner-tube were about to slide into her as they rocketed toward her with no means of control. The vessel bounced and writhed with arms and legs protruding at unlikely angles, as if it were some genetic experiment gone horribly wrong.

  Alerted to the imminent danger by Brandon's call, one of the boys jumped ship. The remaining boys, unable to understand the reason for their companion's sudden departure, craned their necks back up the hill. The boy who had ejected waved and pointed frantically as he slid to a slow stop on his butt. Unfortunately, his friends had run out of time to translate his gestures.

  The tube took Kailey's legs out from under her. It compressed first and then rebounded as the pressure inside equalized against Kailey's small amount of resistance. Her tiny five year old body travelled six feet into the air. She cart-wheeled through her tragic trajectory, and then landed flat on her back on hard-packed snow with a dull thud.

  Brandon reached her a heartbeat later. "Honey, it's okay. Daddy's got you," he said, lifting her onto his lap and kneeling on the snow. Kailey was still and her eyes were staring. No sound escaped her lips. "Kailey?" There was no response. "Kailey, look at me. Kailey!" He was getting frantic.

  Abruptly, Kailey gasped and sucked in a long, wheezing breath. Her eyes were bright with brimming tears. Brandon's body relaxed a little and he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

  "It's alright sweetheart, you just had the wind knocked out of you. Just relax and take little breaths, the air will come back," he said as he rocked her.

  "We didn't see her! Is she alright?" a freckled boy of about 13 asked as he bent panting over Brandon and Kailey. It was the boy that had bailed out of the tube. The other two arrived a moment later and huddled in for a look at the little girl in Brandon's arms.

  Kailey was breathing almost normally now and starting to make little hiccupping sobs. Her brightly-colored hat was lying in the snow near one of the boy's feet. The boy noticed it and picked it up. He slapped it against his thigh to free it of snow, and then held it out toward Brandon, like a wounded bird.

  "I didn't even see her, I was facing the back." One of the boys said, looking scared and embarrassed.

  "She's ok." Brandon answered as he probed her for broken bones. "She's just had the wind knocked out of her. Give her a little room guys, alright?"

  The boys backed up a few steps. Brandon noticed the looks that passed between them. They wanted to do something to help, that was plain, but probably more than that they just wanted to get the hell out of there.

  "It was just an accident guys. It wasn't your fault." Brandon said.

  "Daddy 'sniff' I want to 'sniff' go h-h-home." said a little voice. There were tears on her rose-colored cheeks and her nose was running.

  "Ok honey. You bet." Brandon looked at the boys who were still standing a few feet away. "Guys, don't worry about it, ok? She's fine."

  All three looked more than relieved as he bent and grabbed Kailey's sled then trudged through the snow toward the Jeep.





  That evening, Brandon recounted Kailey's accident to Karen as they lay in bed.

  "Why are you so worked up, babe?" she asked. "Kids have spills all the time. It's practically a rite of childhood." Karen was always more reasonable and calm than Brandon. She looked at life in more logical terms while Brandon lived emotionally, never really in the moment.

  "I don't know. I see something like that, and I'm just terrified that I'm going to lose her." He was lying with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. The house creaked and settled as a cold December wind whistled through the trees outside. "Did I tell you about the time she slipped in the tub when she was around a year old?"

  "Yes," Karen said, "but she was fine, right? You were right there; nothing bad happened."

  "Yeah, she was okay. What bothered me about it were her eyes." He turned on his side, his back to Karen, and looked out the window beside the bed. The evening was clear and moonless. He had never seen so many stars so close to the city. Karen propped herself up on her elbow and rested her chin over his shoulder.

  "What about her eyes? I don't remember you telling me about that."

  "No, I probably didn't." He paused a moment, remembering. "I had just walked out of the bathroom for a second. I wanted to grab the phone and find out when you'd be home from work. I had only gotten two steps into the hall, when I heard Kailey fall in the tub. I ran back in and she was just lying still, under the water and staring up at me with her little hands reaching out for help. I reached in and pulled her out right away. She cried and coughed a little, but she was fine. Afterward though, I couldn't get the image of her eyes out of my head. For an instant, when she was under the water with her eyes open, it was like..." he paused. "You know what? It's kind of stupid when I think of saying it out loud. Just don't worry about it."

  "Tell me Brandon. What was it like?" Karen's voice was tender, but firm.

  Brandon was quiet for another moment before he spoke. "Well, it was like I was seeing her in a coffin. I know it sounds terrible, but it was just an eerie feeling, you know? Her face was totally still and serene, like she was, well, you know." He chanced a look over his shoulder to gauge her reaction, but her face was unreadable in the dark.

  "Today, when she got the breath knocked out of her," he continued, "her eyes were just like that, staring and lifeless. It scared me, you know? I just can't imagine life without her anymore. I'd trade places with that kid in a second if something was going to hurt her."

  "Any parent worth their salt would do that, babe. It just means that you love your daughter. I think you should just stop worrying about it and get a little sleep." Karen lay back on her pillow and yawned.

  Brandon continued to gaze out of the window. The stars really were incredible tonight. He watched one of them fall. People talked about wishing on shooting stars, but he had never really gone in for all of that superstitious crap.





  Kailey was excited to go back to school after Christmas vacation. She couldn't wait to show off her new doll during show and tell. It was kind of a scary little toy. It looked so much like a real baby that it had made Brandon jump more than a few times, as he came upon it unexpectedly sitting alone on a chair or on the floor behind the bathroom door when he went for an early-morning piss.

  "It pees, daddy! I'm gonna show Mrs. Lanham!" she exclaimed as she paraded the creepy little thing around the house.

  "That's great! I'm sure she'll love it." Brandon wasn't sure of that at all, but it was Mrs. Lanham's problem now.



  It was Kailey's first year in Kindergarten, and she was attending the three days a week. Karen was adjusting to being back to work after a maternity leave that had ended up lasting nearly four years. She was a critical care nurse at the hospital and the shift work had been the hardest part for her upon returning. There really was something to be said for routine.

  "Have you got the Banana ready to go, Karen?" Brandon called as he came into the house from starting the car.

  "I'm just doing up her coat. Honey, can you get some double 'A' batteries for the camera on your way home tonight?" Karen answered from the kitchen.

  "Yeah, I'll get them. Have you seen my cell phone around? I can't find the damned thing."

  "No, I haven't. Did you look in your Jeep? You know, it baffles me that you still have a job with a mind like yours." she teased as she carted Kailey in on her hip and shifted her to Brandon.

  "That's the only thing that kept me out of nurse's college." he replied sardonically.

  "Ouch!" she said and kissed him. "I'll see you tonight. And remember that I'm off today. I'll be picking Kailey up from school, right?"

  "I'll try to remember. I'll get the batteries, too. "D" cells, right?"

  "Just get out of here. The milk man will be here any minute," she shot back. "Give me a kiss munchkin."

  "Bye Mommy. Love you."

  "Love you too, Sweetie. Be good."

  "Ok, Mommy."



  Brandon dropped Kailey off at the public school six blocks from the house, and then continued on to his office. The tires of his Jeep crunched on the light fall of new snow as he pulled into his reserved parking spot at Cranston and Fulton Engineering. Bill Fulton, the senior partner at the firm, parked his Cadillac SUV in the space beside Brandon.

  "How were your holidays, Brandon?" he called over the hood of the Jeep, falling into step beside Brandon as they walked up the newly salted sidewalk to the box-like office building. It sat low and ominous, blending into the overcast sky and promising another year of daily grinding.

  Bill wasn't really a bad guy, but he was a business man first and foremost. Brandon thought that if Bill had a business motto, it would go something like: "Make your employees feel like they are in debt to you for every dollar you pay them and every moment they aren't working for you."

  "Great. No complaints." Brandon responded. "We just stuck close to home and took it easy. How about you Bill?"

  "Oh we flew the kids and their families down to Stowe. We have a timeshare at a chalet down there. The skiing was fantastic. Have you been?"

  "No, I haven't. It sure sounds like you wrangled yourself the best slot on that time share." He held the door open for Bill as he entered the building.

  "Well, the chalet is actually ours. We hired an agent to parcel it out as a timeshare. Of course, we kept the..."

  "Aaaaghhh!" Brandon yelled, cutting Bill off in mid-sentence. He was clutching his left wrist, his hand spasmed at the end of it like some pitiful, convulsing spider. "My hand, there's something...damn it, feels like it's broken!" His knees started to buckle and he sat before he could fall.

  "What happened? Did you close the door on it?" Bill asked with real concern.

  Brandon fixed his gaze on the door. He had been walking after Bill with the door closing behind him when his hand had exploded in sudden and exquisite pain. The sudden shock of it was so strong that it momentarily deadened all other senses. His vision had dimmed; colors washed out and turned to black and white. Even his ears had begun to ring. The door was heavy insulated glass, but not that heavy. Brandon would have believed that his hand had gotten jammed under the door of an airplane hangar before he'd believe it was this door that had done the damage. Besides, there were no marks that he could see. He looked back at Bill and shook his head as he got unsteadily to his feet.

  "I don't see how it could have been the door. It's too far away." His voice came out in a kind of grunt. The hand felt like it was on fire. Bill held out his left hand toward Brandon's injured right.

  "Let's have a look at it."

  Brandon gingerly held the hand out in front of him and Bill inspected it. He turned it over, and then back.

  "Well, it's not broken." Bill looked at Brandon with a mildly condescending expression. "Shit Brandon, with the sound you made, I expected to see it lying on the floor!" he teased, patting Brandon on the shoulder.

  "No, it doesn't seem to be." He replied as he slowly and carefully opened, and then closed his fist. "It hurts like a bastard, but it seems to be moving alright."

  "Are you alright to work?" It was obvious which response Bill expected to his question, but he didn't receive it. There was no way that Brandon could type or run the mouse on his computer with his hand like it was. He wasn't even sure that he could drive.

  "I really doubt it. I think I'm going to give Karen a call to come and look at it. If I need to, she can drive me to the hospital." 

  Bill looked hesitant, the lines in his brow gained definition. "You know they're going to ask you at the hospital if this was a work related incident."

  "I'm sure it's nothing Bill. I'll probably be back this afternoon." He didn't feel like it was nothing. He was sweating, and he could feel the hand starting to swell; something which it was certainly not doing.

  Brandon walked to the empty receptionist's desk and cradled the phone's handset between ear and shoulder. He was a southpaw, which made dialing with his right hand a little awkward.

  Karen's voice seemed anxious when answered on the first ring. 

  "Hello?"

  "Hi Hon, it's me."

  "Oh, Brandon. I thought it was the school calling."

  "Why, what's wrong?"

  "They called a minute ago, Kailey had a little accident at school, don't worry she's fine. I'm just walking out the door to pick her up."

  "What happened?" he asked, his hand nearly forgotten for the moment.

  "They didn't say much on the phone, just that she was playing and had a little accident getting a toy off of a shelf, but that she was fine. I talked to her for a few seconds but I didn't catch everything she said. She was crying."

  "I thought she wasn't hurt?" he asked, exasperated.

  "No, she sounded scared, not hurt. She calmed down a little by the time I hung up. I told her I'd be right there to get her." Karen paused and then began again in a more conversational tone. "So, what's up?"

  "Huh? Oh, it's my hand. I banged it coming through the door or something. I think I need to get it looked at." The hand began to throb once again as his attention shifted from Kailey.

  "You banged it coming through the door? You know that you're supposed to open the door first, right?"

  "Droll. Very droll. Look, I'm going to head over to the hospital. Are you going to take Kailey in?"

  "I'll find out what happened and have a look at her myself, but it sounds like she's fine. I'll probably just take her home. Are you alright to drive?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Who's the E.R. doctor on the floor today, do you know?"

  "It's Doug. Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up?"

  "No, I'm fine. The roads are still a little shitty from the snow last night. Just get Kailey and call me on my cell when you know more."

  "You have to turn off your phone in a hospital, Brandon. It messes up critical equipment... someone could die!"

  "Is that really true?"

  "No."

  "Just call me when you know about Kailey, okay?"

  "Alright, I will. So, where was it anyway?"

  "Where was what?"

  "Your cell phone. I assumed that you found it?" There was laughter in Karen's voice.

  "Shit." He hung up.





  "Well, it's not broken, that's for sure." Doctor Hill said, looking at the x-ray in the light box on the wall of the examining room. Doug was a gruff old character, but a pretty nice guy, assuming that you didn't take his direct manner too seriously. He reminded Brandon a white-haired version of Jack Nicholson. "It's not even sprained or bruised. Are you sure that you caught it in a door?" he went on.

  "Well, not entirely Doug. Like I said, it just came out of nowhere. The door is just the only explanation I can come up with." Brandon was sitting on the examining table cradling his injured paw. The pain was a dull throb now, not quite as sharp as it had been.

  "Have you been drinking? Doing any Drugs?" Doug was one of the senior doctors at Princess of Whales hospital, having been on staff for thirty two years. He knew his business and he cut through the bullshit. Brandon had always liked him for that.

  "No, just a couple cups of coffee."

  "Had any recent injuries to your hand or arm?"

Brandon thought a moment and answered "I banged-up my left elbow pretty good playing hockey back in November, but it wasn't serious."

  "Smash it on the ice?" Doug inquired.

  "No. Just some guy's nose." Brandon answered with a grin.

  "Yes, well I appreciate the business. We're never too busy with stabbings, drug overdoses or gunshot wounds to take time-out for voluntary injuries."

  "Drug overdoses aren't voluntary anymore?" He smirked.

  "Ahh, Touché." Doug smiled to one side of his mouth and cocked an eyebrow. The act significantly increased his resemblance to Jack Nicholson. Brandon wondered if he practiced in a mirror.

  "Look Brandon, I can't see anything wrong with your arm. There is a thing called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome that I suppose might fit with your symptoms in a loose kind of way. Basically, its pain linked to a previous injury. Hurting your elbow could cause it, but it's doubtful. There's no discoloration or radical temperature change of the skin. I could write you a script for some pain killers if you feel you need them." Doug reached for a pad of blank prescriptions on his desk and pulled a Mont Blanc from his jacket pocket.

  Brandon was flexing his hand. "I'd definitely like something to take the edge off. It's not as bad as it was an hour ago, but it still feels worse than a kick in the arse."

Doug scribbled something illegible on the pad, tore off the prescription and offered it to Brandon.

  "Get this filled and follow the label instructions. Take them as you need them and don't exceed four a day. If the pain is as bad or worse by tomorrow, come back in. We'll run some more extensive tests maybe schedule a CT and MRI. Did I say extensive? I meant expensive. You've got a good insurance plan, right?"

  The two men stood and Brandon started to put on his jacket.

  "Comprehensive." He answered.

  Doug brightened. "You're sure you don't want to fill out the worker's compensation forms? It's good to leave a paper trail, just in case."

  "No, I really don't think that's necessary Doug, but thanks. It's more hassle than I need. Besides, you said yourself that it didn't look like I'd caught it in a door. I really don't see how it could be classified as a work related injury. "

  "That's your call. You need a doctor's note?"

  "No. Bill's pretty good about that sort of thing, as long as I don't expect to get payed."



  As he drove home on the expressway, Brandon continued to consider what he might have done to injure his hand. As he turned the problem over in his mind, his thoughts drifted toward Kailey. She was probably fine, but there was to know until he got home.

  A loud 'BEEP' startled him from his thoughts. It was the 'low battery' alarm of his phone. He looked around the cab, anticipating the next beep. About thirty seconds later he heard it again. It was coming from under the passenger's seat. He awkwardly steadied the wheel with his left forearm, reached under the seat, and pulled out the phone. The charger was still stuck in the cigarette lighter, so he plugged the other end into the phone and started it charging.

  As he continued home, with his phone now sitting on the seat beside him, he was tempted to use it. There was the ergonomic problem, however. How would he talk on the phone and drive with only one hand? He had a speaker on his phone, but it was too quiet and distorted to make out over the road noise in the Jeep. He could hold it with his shoulder, but that would be pushing his luck.

  Brandon had seen talented motorists multi-tasking before. Once, in fact, he had observed a man doing 60 mph on the inside lane of an eight-lane highway. The man talked on his phone and leaned over the steering wheel with a clipboard, taking notes while cars passed on his right at 80 mph. Hell, he was probably holding his doughnut between his knees and dunking it in his damned coffee.

  Brandon had been guilty of talking on the phone while driving, but he kept it to a minimum. After all, if he did it all the time, he couldn't very well bitch about other people doing it, could he?

  As he continued to worry about Kailey, he reasoned to himself that this was, in fact, an emergency. Maybe he could steer a little with his knees. It wouldn't be that hard on a straight stretch of highway. The turns were all gradual, and there were no stop signs or traffic lights to deal with.

  He snatched the phone off the seat. As felt for the voice-dial key with his thumb, the phone vibrated violently in his hand. In his surprise, he dropped it under the seat again and swerved into the next lane. An air horn blasted beside him and he jerked the Jeep quickly back into his own lane, almost losing control as the rear tires broke loose on the slick asphalt. He took his foot off of the gas and got the vehicle under control as his heart pounded in his chest.

  The dump truck he had nearly traded paint with was pacing him now. The driver was leaning over in his seat to look at Brandon through the window in the base of the door. He looked like he wanted to give him a few driving tips, as in 'driving' the 'tip' of his boot into Brandon's ass. He gave a half-hearted apologetic wave. His face was crimson, as he repositioned himself in his seat and took a new grip on the wheel with both hands.

  He looked straight ahead and let out a long sigh. He looked down at his hands on the wheel. Specifically, he looked at the left one. Today, he had worn the watch that Karen and Kailey gave him for father's day the year before. There was a thin crack spider-webbing across the crystal and the second hand no longer marched around the dial. Now that he had noticed the damage, he didn't understand how he had missed it when he had put it on that morning. It wasn't an expensive watch, but he wore it almost every day. What could have happened to it? Was he losing his mind?

  The clasp unhinged easily as Brandon slid his thumbnail under it and popped it open. He took the broken watch off and placed it in the center console. Next chance he got, he would take it to the mall and see if it could be fixed. As he placed his left hand back on the wheel, a strange thing occurred to him. He let go of the wheel and made a fist. He opened and closed it again. It didn't hurt at all.



  "What do you mean 'a book case fell on it'?" Brandon asked Karen as he inspected Kailey's tiny hand. "You're sure there's nothing wrong with it? Maybe we should take her in, just to be safe."

  "I'm positive." Karen countered. "I think the story just got exaggerated. A bookcase loaded with books, toys, an aquarium and God knows what else, falls down in the middle of a kindergarten class and almost lands on three kids? Everyone's scared, memory gets fuzzy. Anyway, I had a good long look at her hand. There isn't a bone or a hair out of place." Karen seemed satisfied.

  "My hand got stucked under the books. Mrs. Lanham had to get the cleeny-guys to take them off so I could go to the bathroom." Kailey supplied.

  "Did it hurt when the bookshelf hit you, honey?" he asked. He still had her hand in his. The stubby fingers sprouting from fat little palms hadn't yet lost that 'baby' look. Her nails were still painted in two-week old lime-green nail polish she had picked out herself when she had gone for a manicure with Brandon's mother. Even now, with the nails growing in and the polish chipped away, she absolutely refused to let Karen remove it. Brandon didn't like to think about that little hand in a cast.

  "No daddy, it didn't get hurted at all, see?" She pulled her hand free of Brandon's light grip and held it up in front of his eyes, as if to give him a high-five.



 



  Cleveland was in the midst of a heat wave that had lasted five days with no relief in the forecast. There were rolling black-outs throughout the city as people sought shelter in their homes and cranked-up the AC. Brandon and Karen's air conditioner had been out of commission for the last three days and repairmen were operating on a "we'll get there when we damned-well get there" policy. Patience around the Hadley's household was at a premium.

  Kailey had been miserable since the start of summer holidays a few weeks before. She couldn't understand why she wasn't allowed to go to school and see her friends anymore.

  "You'll more than likely see some of your friends riding their bikes around, or maybe at the pool." Karen said, trying to allay Kailey's bad temper. "Besides, summer will be over before you know it."

"Becky lives a long ways away from our house. Only Lance and Kimmy live near us and they're stupid!" Kailey sulked as she ran into her room and slammed the door.

  Brandon looked ruefully at Karen and said, "She must be your kid. I never hated summer holidays." 

"It won't last long, summer never does." she sighed.

"It does when you're a kid. Don't you remember?"

Karen sighed again, a little louder this time. "You're right. Maybe we should take her to the pool?"

  "I don't think so!" Brandon was dubious. "That place is a cesspool. Kids pee in it all day. Have you even seen it this week? There are so many damned people in that pool, I think there's only about four or five liters of water left in it. The rest is just people! I'd have to bring a crowbar just to..."

  "Ok, I get it!" Karen snapped. She was obviously not in the mood for Brandon's wit. "Do you have any suggestions, smart-ass? I'm at the end of my rope here. If you have any better ideas, I'd be more than happy to hear them." Her brow was shiny with sweat.

  The two adults had been showering two and three times a day to feel some semblance of comfort, but it was useless. Each day they would bake, either under the sun, or in the stagnant oven that their home had become, and each night they would toss and turn above the covers in the stale, sticky heat. They left the windows open in the vain hope that a breeze would quicken in the night, but it had been a fruitless gesture.

  Often, just as Brandon was falling off to sleep, Kailey would come in and tap on his back. In a sleepy little voice, miserable with exhaustion she'd say, "Daddy, it's too hot in my room. Can I sleep with you and mommy?" Then she'd crawl between Brandon and Karen, adding her own heat and perpetual motion to the useless bed. Night or day; there was no relief.

  "What about the beach?" Brandon asked. "It'll be crowded, but not as bad as the pool. Besides, the 45 minutes in an air-conditioned car wouldn't be too hard to take."

  "Get the towels and your swimming shorts, oh, and grab the cooler." Karen had brightened almost at once at the suggestion, the draining heat making short work of her pride. "We'll stop and pick up ice and drinks on the way. I'll get some snacks ready and you get Kailey into her bathing suit."

 

  The drive to Lake Erie was like closing a book - a really shitty book, and placing it back on the shelf. The air conditioning was refreshing and everyone was in good spirits for the first time in nearly a week.

  Brandon took advantage of the Jeep's off-road capabilities and parked on a berm. It was faster than driving up and down the rows of cars to find a spot in the packed parking lot. He shifted the transmission to park, and they scrambled out, anxious to get into the water. As they opened the doors, the blistering, stagnant air hit them like a wall. The only thing that kept their spirits from breaking instantly was the smell of the lake, just a hundred feet away. The three grabbed their gear and found themselves a small piece of real-estate, not too far from the water.

  Brandon put sunscreen on Kailey while Karen laid out the towels. Kailey was dancing from foot to foot with impatience. The sand was scorching, like walking on a bed of hot coals. Brandon sought relief while he set up the umbrella by worming his feet deep into the pale sand until they reached the cool, damp sand that lay six inches or so below the surface. He could already feel himself starting to relax. The waves were breaking softly over the sandbar behind him and the promise of a refreshing dip within reach any time he wanted allowed him to slow his pace.

  With an end to the incessant heat in his grasp, he savored the feel of the sun on his bare back. It had been a good idea to make the drive down. Everyone was content and quiet, just the way he liked it. He dug around in the bottom of the cooler looking for a couple of the colder Cokes.

  "Do you guys want a drink before we go swimming?" He asked, closing the lid with his knee.

  "None for me thanks. Kailey? Do you want a Coke?" Karen asked, turning to where Kailey had been digging in a bag for her water wings. There was no reply. Kailey's water wings lay un-inflated on the towel with the rest of the contents of the bag. Brandon and Karen spun toward the water together. A cold icicle of panic stabbed into Brandon's chest.

  "Kailey!" Karen cried. "Kailey!"

  There was no sign of her amidst the mass of bathers. She could be anywhere. More than a few people turned at her call, then instinctively toward the water, searching for a girl they had never seen before.

  Brandon and Karen sprinted toward the water, looking in every direction as they ran. Instinctively, they split-up. Brandon headed left up the shoreline, while Karen went right.

  He had only gone a short distance up the beach when he spotted Kailey's golden hair and pink 'Dora the Explorer' bathing suit about thirty feet into the water. She was standing on the sandbar and struggling to keep her head above the water. She had likely waded out in water that was only up to her shoulders, but now the tide was coming in. She was trapped on the sandbar and the water between her and the shore was getting deeper by the moment. Any second her head would go under and Brandon could see her beginning to panic. No one could hear Kailey crying for help over the din of the crowd.

  "Kailey! Hold on! Daddy's coming!"

  Brandon ran as fast as he could, heedless of the people he was slamming into. As he ran he noticed in the periphery of his vision that Karen was racing back up the beach. She must have turned back, and then heard him call out to Kailey. He turned his head back toward his daughter in time to see a wave crash over her head. He watched for her to resurface, but saw only the dark blue water against a pale blue sky. He could almost believe that she hadn't been there at all.

  Suddenly, iron bands seized Brandon around the chest. He couldn't breathe. The world around him was instantaneously tinted dark blue-grey and he felt a crushing, swirling force propel him to the ground. Even as his entire will bent toward saving his daughter, his air supply was completely cut off. He could taste slightly alkali lake water. It filled his mouth and nostrils and lungs as he writhed and crawled on dry sand. He could hear the thumps of feet as people ran past him. Only see swirling shapes were visible, as if through dark water and the whole world sounded as if he'd stuck his fingers in his ears. Thousands of bubbles floated past his eyes, then suddenly, light. Bright, blue sky.

  He was lying on his back in the sand coughing violently. He turned over and wretched on someone's beach towel. A crowd was starting to form around him and an older man who looked like a tanned leather purse put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Do you need some help, pal?"

  Brandon was still coughing as he staggered to his feet and brushed the man aside.

  "Kailey! Karen!" He was calling and coughing as he made his way toward a larger crowd near the water. He pushed through to the front, calling his daughter's name. He saw Karen standing alone beside a tall boy and felt the cold fingers of panic grip him again. Karen turned toward the boy and Brandon saw that she held Kailey in her arms. She was tightly wrapped in a towel that someone must have volunteered.

  He started to run and called out, "Kailey!"

  "Daddy!" Kailey cried and held her arms out to him. He was half jogging and half staggering as he reached them, the adrenaline being flushed from his blood. The gathered crowd parted before him as if he'd held some strange cousin of Moses' Staff.

  "Thank God you're alright. You scared us to death Kailey-bean." Brandon said with palpable relief as the little family embraced in a three way hug.

  "This young man saw her going under and swam to her rescue," Karen said, grabbing the hand of a well-built and tanned boy of about 17 who was standing a little off to her left.

  "I'm just glad I got to her in time. She went down fast under that wave, and the water's not very clear." The boy said, a little modestly. Brandon clasped his daughter's rescuer's hand in both of his own.

  "Thank you. I really don't know what to say. My name is Brandon Hadley and this is my wife Karen." He released the boy's hand and put his arm around Karen again. Karen bent and kissed the boy on the cheek. "And this is Kailey. Kailey can you say thank you to the man?" Kailey buried her face in Brandon's shoulder and peeked back at the boy with one blue eye. A shy smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  "That's ok; my little sister is shy around boys too. I'm Kyle Reilly. I'm glad I could help." He said, nodding at Brandon and Karen. The crowd had dispersed by now, the excitement over. There was an awkward, silent moment, and then Karen spoke up.

  "We really can't thank you enough." she said. "If there's anything we can do ..."

  "No, really, I'm sure that either one of you would do the same if you had been in the same situation." Kyle replied.

  Karen glanced at Brandon and a cloud passed over her face, but the expression was there and gone so fast that Brandon was unsure he had seen it at all.

  "Well, I'd better get back to my friends. You guys take care." Kyle said. He waved one hand at Kailey and walked a few steps backward down the beach. Then he turned and jogged off toward four other kids that were watching from a distance. A tall brunette put her arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

  Brandon set Kailey on the ground and kneeled in front of her on the sand. "Are you ok, honey?" he asked in a serious but gentle tone.

  "Yes daddy. I swam under water! I thought I was drownding, but I didn't'! Then the boy got me before I could drowned and I kicked him and screamed 'cus that's what you do when a stranger tries to take you." Kailey was beaming. He glanced up at Karen. She was nodding and looking mortified. Brandon turned back to Kailey.

  "Yes honey, you don't let a stranger take you, but it's ok to let someone save you from drowning and fires and things, alright?"

  "I know dad, but I wasn't drownding."

  "Okay. We're very glad that you didn't drown, honey. You also know that it's not ok to go in the water by yourself, don't you? You shouldn't ever leave mommy or daddy without telling us first. Why did you go into the water without us, it's very dangerous." Brandon was trying to make his face serious. It was always difficult when he disciplined Kailey this way. She had a habit of making her face very serious and trying to stare him down in a contest of wills. He often lost the match and the two of them would crack up, the would-be lesson cast aside for better or worse. This however, was not a lesson to be taken lightly. It had been a close call and Brandon needed to make an impression.

  "But daddy, I can breathe under water! I'll show you!" She made as if to break toward the beach, but he held her firm.

  "Sweetie," Karen said, kneeling beside Brandon and facing her "you can't breathe underwater, only fishies can do that. You have to be very careful. Promise me that you will never do that again."

  "But mommy..."

  "Promise us, sweetie. This is very important."

  "Ok. I promise that I won't go in the water without you. Ok?" Kailey looked exasperated.

  "Ok." Karen replied and she squeezed her little hand. As she did, Brandon winced.



  Kailey was asleep before Karen finished buckling her into the car seat. Brandon drove and the pair were quiet the first 20 minutes, soaking up the cool air from the vents. Brandon was lost in his thoughts. He couldn't get his head around what had happened on the beach that afternoon. He had nearly drowned on dry land, he was sure of it. When he had regained his mobility, he had run straight to Kailey, the strange experience forgotten for the moment. Afterward, as he lay in the shade of the umbrella watching Karen help Kailey build sand castles, his thoughts drifted back to the event.

  It was crystal clear in his mind's eye. He really had almost drowned. Up until about a half hour after the episode, he had had to suppress spastic urges to cough, as if a drink had gone down the wrong tube.

  "Thank God that Kyle kid happened to be there today." Karen said into the silence. She was looking straight ahead as they cruised down the highway. Brandon came out of his reverie and glanced furtively at Karen, then turned his attention back to the road.

  "Yeah, I know. I don't want to think about where we might be right now if he hadn't been."

  "Don't even talk like that, Brandon!" She snapped. "I couldn't deal with it if something had happened to her. I could never forgive myself. I don't understand what happened. She was there one second and the next... she... was..."

  He looked back at his wife and saw tears shining on her cheeks in the failing sunlight. He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed gently.

  "Do you remember when she had that tumble on the toboggan hill?" He asked.

  "Yes." She sniffed. "Does every kid get into this much trouble, or are we just bad parents?"

  "I guess all kids kind of start out clumsy. It's like a default setting in the firmware. Maybe all of the bumps and scrapes re-program us to watch where we're going." He paused, and then added, "At least, I think they're supposed to. Do you remember the talk we had that night, after she got hit by the tube?"

  "Vaguely, why?"

  "Something strange happened to me today at the beach." Brandon answered. He seemed to be focused intensely on the car in front of them. She looked at him, and then frowned. His face was an expressionless mask.

  "What do you mean? Are you okay?" She asked in a near whisper, as though she was hoping that he wouldn't hear her and thereby not answer. He sat for a long time, continuing to look straight ahead, as if he indeed hadn't heard the question.

  "Honey, are you okay?" She asked again tentatively. "You're scaring me." 

  Brandon turned to her and said "I almost drowned today."

  Karen stared at him for a moment, not comprehending. "What do you mean, 'drowned'? You hardly went in the water at all today." Karen tried to smile, but it was a thin coat of paint over her mounting fear.

  "I saw the way you looked at me today, you know; when I was the last person on the scene after our daughter nearly drowned." his voice was rising and his brow was creased with frustration.

  "I just figured that you didn't see her and ran on. The beach was crowded; it would have been easy to miss her."

  "You heard me yelling. I saw you look right at me, Karen. I ended up on the ground not 30 feet from where Kyle met you with Kailey. Tell me that you haven't been wondering what happened to me?"

  "I'm afraid..." Karen replied.

  "Afraid of what, Karen?"

  "You've had some strange episodes lately, Brandon." She turned and cupped the back of his head in her hand. "I just keep thinking about Chris and Sheryl. The signs they told us about, you know, when they first noticed that something was wrong with Chris. I'm just so paranoid that you..."

  "Chris? What, you think I've got a brain tumor?" Brandon asked. He sounded surprised.

  "Well, there was that problem with your hand, back at Christmas. Then today I see you flopping on the ground like a fish, and now you're telling me that you almost drowned...laying on the sand? It's just too much to deal with after what happened with Kailey today... I just can't handle it Brandon!"

  "Honey, I don't have a brain tumor." His features softened and he tried to sound consoling, but it just came out like he was trying to hold back a laugh. "No. What I'm thinking about is way more unlikely than a brain tumor." This time he did laugh. It was a low, dry chuckle from deep in his throat. "It's actually going to sound kind of funny, but just hear me out, please?" Karen said nothing. "Do you remember the talk we had and how I said that I'd trade places with Kailey in a heartbeat if something bad was going to happen to her?"

  "Yes, I remember you saying something like that." Karen looked puzzled.

  "Well, I think that it might have actually happened. Twice, Karen."

  She just stared at him as if she had never seen him before. "I know you think I'm joking, but just think about it for a second." Brandon took his eyes off the road for a moment to check Karen's reaction. He expected an argument, but she was just waiting for him to continue.

  "A bookcase dropped on Kailey's hand. The thing must have weighed 200 pounds! They had to lift it up to get her hand out, but she didn't have a scratch. She's four years old Karen. Did you know that I talked to the guy that pulled the bookcase off of her? He's a janitor at the school. He was outside having a smoke when I dropped Kailey off, about a week after the accident, and she pointed him out to me. I stopped to thank him on my way out. When I asked him about it, he said it was the damndest thing he ever saw. There was a bookshelf speaker from the classroom stereo that got caught under the bookcase too. He found it when he was cleaning up, and it was smashed to pieces. He said it was one of those little wooden speaker boxes, about so big." Brandon held his hands over the steering wheel about six inches apart to demonstrate. "Kailey's hand should have broken before the speaker did! Doesn't that seem a little bit strange to you?" Brandon looked at her with resolve, ready for her response.

  She was chewing her nail thoughtfully; then, she looked at Brandon and smiled sympathetically.

  "Well that's it, isn't it? The speaker broke the bookcase's fall; it's probably what saved her hand." She said it slowly, as if speaking to a two-year-old, but Brandon was smiling and shaking his head.

  "I mentioned that to him myself. The speaker was on the opposite side of the bookcase. When the bookcase hit the speaker first, the speaker box would have acted like a fulcrum and actually accelerated the side that fell on Kailey's hand, not slow it down!"

  Karen looked as if she was going to say something, but thought better of it.

  "I also asked him what time it had happened at." Brandon continued. "He said that it had to be 9:00 on the dot. The bell had just rung a moment before he got the call on his radio."

  Karen looked dubious, "What does that have to do with anything?"

  Brandon reached into the center console. He fished around for a moment and came up with his ruined watch. He offered it to Karen without a word. She accepted it and looked at it with curiosity. She noticed that he hadn't worn it in a while but had always assumed that the novelty of sentiment had worn off and he'd just gone back to his old watch.

  She looked a question at her husband, but he just nodded back toward the watch. She turned it over in her hands. After a moment, she stopped and held it up in front of her eyes in the failing sunlight. The glass was badly damaged, but she could plainly see the hour hand was pointing at nine, while the minute hand had come to rest exactly on the number twelve.

  "Okay, so it stopped at nine. What about it?" She said, handing the watch back to him dismissively.

  "I found it like this on the day that I hurt my hand, the same day and time that Kailey should have hurt her hand. I didn't notice it at first, not until I left the hospital. Even then, I didn't think much about it. I figured that it got smashed over the holidays and I hadn't noticed. It wasn't until about a month later when I saw it in there, and was going to get it fixed, that I noticed the time it had stopped at. I thought back to what the janitor had said and made a connection. I remembered that the bookcase had fallen on her left wrist. I wear my watch on my left wrist! My hand felt like it had been smashed at the exact same time that a bookcase fell on Kailey's hand? Doesn't that seem a little strange? And today, Kailey went under water for what, 30 seconds? She came out fine, but the second after her head disappeared under the wave, I collapse on a dry beach and nearly drown! Does that make sense? Am I crazy?" Brandon realized by the look on Karen's face that he was shouting. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw Kailey, silently watching him from her car seat. Karen followed his gaze and turned to the back seat.

  "It's ok honey, go back to sleep. We'll be home soon." She said, picking up a stuffed duck that had fallen on the floor and laying it in Kailey's lap. Kailey shifted in her seat, snuggled the duck and then was instantly asleep.

  Brandon looked at Karen apologetically. "Look," He said, "I know how crazy all of this sounds. I just don't know how else to explain it."

  "How long have you had this... theory?" She asked, trying to maintain tact.

  "Well, like I said, it kind of fell into place when I saw the watch. I didn't really give it any credit until today, though."

  "One of my professors at college used to say that when you run into a difficult diagnosis, don't forget Occam's razor. You know what Occam's razor is, right?"

  "When you have two or more competing theories that make exactly the same prediction, the one with as few assumptions as possible is the correct one."

  "Yes, that's very studious, dear."

  "So what are you saying? I have a brain tumor?" he asked. There was no irritation in his voice this time, only the beginning of acquiescence.

  "No, I'm not saying that." Karen sounded defensive. "I just think that it wouldn't hurt to get checked out. Doug said that he mentioned doing an MRI and CT. It wouldn't hurt. Would you just call him, please? For Kailey and me?" There was pleading in her tone now.

  Brandon looked in the mirror again at his daughter asleep in the back seat. Her lips were closed, except for a tiny 'O' in the middle that opened every time she breathed out, making a soft little 'Pffff' sound. He surveyed the gentle curve that travelled from her forehead, over her brow, and ended at her tiny, button-like nose. He admired her eyelashes, as fine as the threads of a dandelion's seed. Her chin was still a tiny 'U' between two chubby cheeks.

  Looking at that little face, he could still see the squalling infant that he had met for the first time four years ago. It fascinated him that you could look at someone's baby pictures and see features of the adult that you knew in the child that you hadn't, but you could never look at a child and see the adult it would grow to be. He wondered what Kailey would look like when she grew up. He knew that she would be beautiful, but it would be beauty with real character. He had been so afraid of not seeing her grow up that he had forgotten his responsibility to his family. He lived in a world of reality, not fantasy. Karen was probably right. He should be getting his head checked instead of daydreaming about strange miracles, or curses, depending on your point of view. If there was something wrong with his head then the responsible thing was to get it checked as soon as possible.

  "I'll call Doug tomorrow." Brandon said. He found Karen's hand and squeezed. He didn't let go for the rest of the drive.





  Brandon had bought a playhouse kit from a "Big Box" store and was doing his best to assemble it in the back yard. The pictures on the front of the boxes showed a sprawling masterpiece of wood and metal and plastic, all in bright pastel colors. Brandon looked up from the picture to see a sprawling disaster of nuts, bolts and miscellaneous pieces that did not seem to be related to one another. He threw the box aside and added another curse to the stream of profanity that had been flowing from his backyard that morning.

  Brandon's father David had been a natural at building and fixing. If the roof needed re-shingling, or the bath tub had to be replaced, Dave Hadley would do it himself before he considered paying someone else. Often, neighbors had hired him to do work on their own homes.

  Brandon however, had not inherited his father's aptitude for physical work, only his sense of economy. As with his father, it was a matter of pride for him and he hated to pay someone to do a job that he should be able to do himself, therefore he had to learn the hard way each time that he probably couldn't. Karen had delicately suggested that maybe they should have the playhouse installed professionally, but Brandon overruled her.

  So it was that he found himself on a Saturday morning looking at three boards that he had cut way too short. He thought that he heard his father's voice as if he was still alive and standing beside him, "Measure twice, cut once." His father was always spouting little nuggets of wisdom like that. "You cut it twice and it was still too short, eh?!" - That was what he would say when someone had not followed the former piece of advice.

  Brandon examined the boards, plainly frustrated. He tried switching the short boards with others, but no new combination would make it work. He would just have to go to out and get more lumber.

  "Hon, I've got to go to Home Depot and get a few parts. They didn't include them in that stupid kit." he lied as he grabbed his keys off the shelf. Karen looked at him sarcastically, but knew better than to comment. "Do you need anything while I'm out?"

  "I think I'll go with you. I want to look at some patio furniture that was in the new catalogue. Can you get Kailey in the Jeep? I want to fix my hair a little before we go."

  "Do we need to make a federal case out of it? I just want to grab a few parts and get back to work." Brandon said, obviously annoyed, but he was picking up Kailey's shoes as he said it.

  "Thanks babe. I just want to look around, not buy. I'll be out in two minutes."

 

  Brandon buckled Kailey into her seat and closed her door. As he opened his own door, he noticed the pair of maple trees on the front lawn. The changing wind had turned all of the leaves over, giving the trees a silvery appearance, and he could see storm clouds building ominously to the south. "Shit. Guess I won't be doing much more work today." He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. "You excited about your playhouse, buddy?" He asked as he angled the rear-view mirror to see Kailey.

  "It's a castle, not a playhouse daddy. I'm a princess." She replied in a very matter of fact tone. Brandon noted that she had her favorite stuffed animal, 'Mr. Duck' with her. She had gotten the fuzzy yellow duck, with its little red heart embroidered on the chest, on the day she was born. He couldn't remember who had given it to her, probably Karen's parents. It had been Kailey's constant companion for the first two years of her life. After that, she had been more interested in dolls and doll houses, and so Mr. Duck made fewer and fewer appearances. He still occupied the honored place beside Kailey's pillow, however. She would snuggle him as she slept each night, but hadn't brought him out of the house in ages. Heaven knew what had prompted her to bring him today. You can't always explain what motivates a child.

  "Is Mr. Duck going to help me load up the lumber today?" He asked.

  "He's not big enough, Daddy." Kailey replied. "He just wanted to go for a trip today. He said that he thought you'd be lonely, and he wanted to keep you company."

  "Oh, well tell him thank you very much from me, okay?"

  "You just told him daddy, he's right here." Kailey said, as if Brandon was the five year old.

  The passenger door opened, and Karen climbed in. "Did you see those storm clouds? You're not going to get much done today. Doug just called. He wants you to come in after work on Monday so he can talk to you about your test results."

  "Did he say anything about them?" Brandon was sure that the scans would only prove that he was completely healthy, but now he found himself getting nervous.

  "He said that it's nothing to worry about. He'd just like to discuss them with you in person." Karen smiled at Brandon, but it barely disguised her own nervousness.

  Brandon decided to put it out of his mind. It would keep until Monday. He put the transmission in gear and turned out of the driveway.



  Brandon pulled into a stall near the back of the parking lot. The place was packed. There was some sort of customer appreciation thing going on. He could see a tent set up with people waiting in line for hamburgers and hot dogs. There were kids with their faces painted and balloons were everywhere. "Great." Brandon muttered under his breath as he closed his door. "I'm never getting out of here today."

  Karen came around the side of the Jeep carrying Kailey on her hip. Kailey had a huge smile. When Brandon saw it, he dropped all expectation of getting his work done and no longer cared. "You want to get your face painted, kiddo?" He asked.

  "Can I?" She asked excitedly. "Can I get a balloon, too?"

  "Sure, honey." Karen said. "I'll take her over there if you want to get your parts, babe."

  "What about patio furniture?"

  "I'm not working tomorrow. I can come back if I haven't changed my mind by then." She smiled and kissed him on the lips.

  "Okay. I'll meet you guys at the barbeque tent when I'm done and we'll grab some lunch." he started to walk away, but Kailey called after him. When he turned back, she was holding Mr. Duck out to him.

  "Mr. Duck doesn't want you to get lonely."

  "Oh, uh thanks honey. That's really nice of Mr. Duck." He just could not refuse that kid when she got all cute like that. Karen was holding back a laugh, probably at the thought of a grown man walking around the hardware section with a child's worn-out, stuffed duck in one hand, and lumber in the other. He kissed Kailey on the top of her head and walked into the store.

Brandon had an associate cut his boards to length for him on the spot. He knew that pride would only take him so far. He took his purchases up to the counter, but much to the chagrin of the checkout girl, did not pay with his Home Depot credit card. She gave Mr. Duck a cynical look as Brandon walked away. He walked into the exit corridor and looked out at the parking lot through the large windows.

  The first fat drops of rain were starting to dot the asphalt here and there and he spotted Karen kneeling beside Kailey in the parking lot. Cars were passing between them as they rushed to find a parking space or to get home ahead of the rain. She had flowers painted on her face and Karen was tying up one of her shoes. The automatic doors opened and Brandon walked out. Then, everything happened very quickly.

  Brandon was staggered by a strong gust of wind. Karen turned her head away from a cloud of dust and debris that had blown into her face. A yellow balloon tumbled past and Kailey reached for it. It blew past her outstretched hand with its pink ribbon trailing behind. The balloon swirled in the gust, and then travelled across the lane of traffic toward Brandon.

  Time seemed to slow down and he could see everything with perfect clarity. He saw the pickup truck, going faster than it had any business to in a parking lot, rolling toward Kailey. He saw her take one step, and then another toward the balloon. He saw Karen rubbing dirt out of her eyes with one hand while the other passed through space that had been occupied by their daughter a moment before.

  Brandon ran, but he felt like he was stuck in mud up to his hips. He couldn't move fast enough! He heard the dull 'thud' as Kailey disappeared under the truck, and then saw it buck twice as the front, and then the rear wheels rolled over her. He heard the screech of brakes, or was that Karen screaming?

  Abruptly, Brandon felt intense pressure building rapidly in his abdomen. It released all at once as his ribs shattered and his internal organs were pulverized. He felt his back collapse as it broke in five places. The pine boards he was carrying clattered to the sidewalk as the world tilted sideways. He was lying on the sidewalk beside lumber that would never be part of a playhouse. He turned his head stiffly to see people rushing to the little form that lay behind the pickup truck. The smell of burning rubber permeated the air. Among the mill of the crowd he could see Karen kneeling beside Kailey. He heard her cry out. He thought it sounded more like joy than grief. He heard a gasp run through the crowd, then murmurs of "she's okay!", "She's not hurt!", and "Did it miss her?" Karen was standing up and hugging Kailey to her.

  The rain came harder now. Great, fat drops landed in Brandon's eyes, blurring his vision. He felt something soft and yielding in his hand. With his last vestige of strength, he unsteadily lifted Mr. Duck and held him against his face. The company was welcome. Kailey's father breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the scent that belonged to his little girl alone. With the drawing of the breath, came the realization that it would be the last. Brandon smiled a little sadly as he died.