Part One
Rain pattered softly on the roads of the small Colorado town, coating the asphalt in a thin sheet of water that shined just slightly. Above, beautiful grey skies gave this rare treat. The intersection where Maple street crossed Fairplay boulevard was normally quiet, but this evening it was due for more excitement than had ever occurred in the history of this small mountain community. It seemed to prepare for it all day; hardly anyone drove or walked through the crossing, almost as though it was resting, saving it’s energies for the emotional destruction and redemption that was to take place. Finally, at eight seventeen P.M, everything was in place, and the evening got underway. About a mile away from the fated intersection, one Claire Vinessa Smith was driving her brown, over-abused Buick Century. The gentle ride of the old, comfortable, if not under-repaired car was a small but welcome consolation; once again, Claire found herself forcibly single. Her life had not ever been the romantic success story, really, her days comprised of one failed love after another. Tears fell from her eyes as she piloted the vehicle, and the rain getting harder, almost as though it were commiserating with her pain.
“Claire, I wanted to say something to you tonight; that’s why I invited you to dinner.” In her mind, she was replaying the images she had seen only minutes before. Her boyfriend of seven months, Todd, called her three days ago and asked her if she wanted to have dinner at his place on this rainy night, just the two of them. Loving him more than she thought she could love anyone any more, she of course accepted; who wouldn’t? Their relationship had lasted longer than any of her other recent attempts, which had been only slightly briefer than the ones before that, and she was beginning to think that perhaps she had finally served her time. Arriving at Todd’s house, he thanked her for coming. It had been raining so hard, he called her while she was en route to see if she’d rather cancel. She said there was no way, that she wouldn’t miss any time to spend with him, because she loved him. He’d cooked a modest meal, but Claire didn’t mind; just being with him was enough for her, and the fact that he’d tried at all meant the world to her. Then, after they’d enjoyed their meal in an unexpected silence, Todd declared his intentions.
“I’m sorry Claire, but I just can’t be with you.” He gave a lot of excuses, phony reasons he’d concocted to distract her, but she was hardly listening. Again. It happened again. Another guy, so seemingly perfect, so wonderful, had dumped her for her perceived shortcomings. What was it? Claire spent more time than probably any other person in the state grooming herself meticulously, trying to impress anyone she was interested in. But knowing that some guys hated that, she made sure it didn’t interfere with daylight hours, getting up hours earlier than her peers just to accomplish the task. She was polite, down to the smallest formalities and courtesies. In bed, she gave herself up fully, granting any fantasies she could bear to enact, all in the name of love. But that wasn’t enough for Todd, apparently. Or anyone before him.
Snapping herself out of those too-recent and painful memories, Claire reached for another tissue. Her tears were coming harder than ever, obscuring the road even more than the weather. Suddenly, her turn was upon her, and she’d been too distracted to notice. Spinning the wheel hard in an attempt to make it, her car hydroplaned, the bald tires unable to maintain enough traction in the swift turn. As she went careening towards a building at forty miles an hour, she screamed in fear.
~~~~~o~~~~o~~~o~~o~O~o~~o~~~o~~~~o~~~~~
Earlier that same day, a yet-unrelated man, Joshua Peter MacIntyre, received a call from his friend Brent. “Joshua! You wanna go out tonight?” Brent asked, “Maybe we’ll find you a girl, huh? I know it’s been far to long since you had a good time.” Joshua, who always had a gentle half-smile, said plainly in his usual calm tone, “I was thinking about going out, yes. I wanted to take a walk in the rain, since it seemed so lovely…” His voice was comforting, and it felt even to strangers like they were talking to an old friend they merely neglected to meet when they were supposed to. “That’s not-” Brent was going to protest, but he knew his friend. “Alright, Joshua, you have a good time, then.” Joshua’s answer was simple, like the man. “How can I not?” Laughing, Brent was about to hang up, when he remembered to tell his friend to stay safe. Unfortunately, he’d remembered a second too late, and the cell phone had already snapped shut. “Oh well,” Brent said quietly, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
At seven twenty-three P.M, Joshua left his small but cozy apartment, leaving it unlocked. This wasn’t some big city where crime was everywhere; in this little town, everyone knew everyone’s face, and no one locked their homes. Stepping out into the rain he had been so looking forward to, Joshua’s hopes were not in vain. The rain was a chilling cold, just the way he liked it, and the cool, crisp air filled his lungs with a sensation that only the Rocky Mountains could provide. Joshua wore little more than a t-shirt and a hoodie to fight the cold, in that being a Colorado native had endowed him with a heightened immunity to it’s bite. Giving one awe-filled look around, admiring the beauty of the moment, he began his long evening walk. He spiraled out from the location of his home, loving how empty the streets were. Everyone had wanted to go out, to party, and there simply wasn’t much of that in such a tiny place. Joshua felt like he had the whole town to himself. It was an enjoyable stroll about the township, but even with his achingly slow ambling pace, he ran out of sidewalks sooner than he would have liked. Sighing, Joshua turned towards his home.
He was coming up to the door to his apartment complex, when he saw something to catch his eye. Not entirely satisfied with the length of his night out, Joshua was happy to have anything else to keep him just a little longer. On the community bulletin posted just outside the doorway of his building, there was an advertisement for a show at the local theatre, put on by a few of the high school’s students. He smiled. It was Romeo and Juliet. The school didn’t have enough money or personnel, they said, to put on a production. Joshua remembered how, a few months ago on this same street corner, he’d come across two of the students standing under the eaves of the building for the little protection it provided from the falling snow. “What are you two doing out in this cold?” he’d asked them, noticing the empty cup one of them was holding. “We’re actors,” they explained, “We’re trying to raise enough money to hire a director and a costume designer so we can put on a show. The school won’t fund it.” This put a beautiful feeling in Joshua’s heart, and he remembered himself at that age, so full of dreams and aspirations as they were. “What show were you thinking of?” he questioned, interested now. They gave the most incredible answer he could have ever heard to such a question: “Does it matter, sir?” They asked, throwing Joshua off-guard as they went on, “The chance to go on stage, and lose yourself to the art, to give yourself over to the crowd… Whichever show we pick is irrelevant, sir. It’s the moment that performer and audience share that will live on forever.” As the student-actor sighed, looking at their frozen feet, a hundred dollar bill fell into the cup they were holding, and as Joshua pulled his hand away, he flashed his famous smile to the dumb-founded pair. “Make it a romance.”
And they had, the most timeless and classic romance he knew. Joshua wanted the flyer now, to keep as a reminder of what a few people with a common goal could accomplish, but he decided he would rather have it on the bulletin, to bring more people to the show. In the distance, he heard a car in the distance and raised his eyebrows. Apparently, he wasn’t so alone after all. Looking up at the street signs, he read them out loud, still searching for any way to extend his walk. “Maple street… Fairplay boulevard…” He’d been living here for several years now, and had so many fond memories now of this corner. Turning to go inside, Joshua paused. He’d spent so long looking at the poster, but had neglected to get the time or location of the show. Chuckling to himself, he walked back out into the rain and to the bulletin. At the same time, the vehicle he’d heard coming earlier hooked too fast a turn, and slid over the water straight towards Joshua, who turned to face it just before it collided with him.
~~~~~o~~~~o~~~o~~o~O~o~~o~~~o~~~~o~~~~~
And so, in an instant, two unconnected and completely different lives were violently thrown together. The steel-framed car slammed into Joshua with such an impact he was knocked unconscious briefly. Bones crunched and organs ruptured as the vehicle tore into it’s prey, ripping him where the bumper met the wall behind him, just above his waistline. Because of the great forces involved, however, the wreckage of the car pressured the wounds of Joshua so severely as to close them off entirely. Despite the fact his lower half had been cut off, held up only by the destroyed Buick, he was alive, and quickly regained consciousness. Within the car, Claire was horrified. Her hands were held in front of her mouth, the shock stopping even her tears. She watched as the man she’d hit came to, pushing himself up from the hood of the car with his arms. Looking down and trying to free himself, he quickly realized that he was completely pinned. “Oh ********,” Claire said as she watched him. “Oh s**t! Oh s**t oh s**t oh ******** oh s**t! No, no, no, no no no no…..” She repeated to herself. She’d just killed someone.
Getting out of the car, Claire had to hold onto it’s twisted frame to remain standing. “Oh my God,” she said, slowly walking to Joshua. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…” She said it over and over, trying to find peace in her apology, but there was none. She couldn’t apologize this away. Joshua silently regarded this young woman approaching him, and raised his eyebrows sympathetically at her panic. “Miss, please, calm down. Are you okay?” That was Joshua; always worried about others. “Am I okay? I just…! What did I do?! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” she began again as she finally gave in to her tears again. In her pocket, her hand fumbled for her cell phone, taking it out and dropping it in her nervousness. Claire quickly picked it back up, dialing 911. “Hello?” she breathed through her tears, “Hello? Please, I need an ambulance! I need an ambulance! I’m at- I’m at…” With Claire looking around frantically for the street signs, Joshua spoke softly, “Maple and Fairplay.” Her head snapped back to him, and she nodded after staring dumb at him for a second. “Maple and Fairplay. Dear God, please hurry!” Hanging up the phone, she felt the tiniest bit better knowing that someone was coming to help, but in such a small community, they didn’t have their own ambulances; she would have to wait while one drove out from the next town over. Claire was going to have to stand out in the rain and wait with this man. Worst of all, he was perfectly coherent and trying to talk her through it. But what do you say to the man whose life you’ve taken?
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