Traveling on the streets on his bike was worse than playing Paperman on SuperNintendo. Instead of dodging fireballs and barking dogs, Ladon had to weave through clustered of people talking frantically on the streets, others outside on their cellphones to have panicked conversations while even more had arguments on who should stay where while the other person went to the hospital. While it was known traveling by car was impossible, people grabbed their keys and went, feeling the need to do something other than walking on foot. It was the same predicament Ladon was in and, if he was more use to the routine of grabbing car keys instead of his helmet when he needed to get out, he might have been on the street too. Good thing he didn’t know how to drive, and not enough to feel comfortable with driving illegally just to get to his dad’s house faster.

He did want to go fast. When he stalled in order to wait for people to move before pushing his bike onward, he took in another brief moment of panic reflected in someone else’s life, where they were worried about their family and friends and seemed to be more on the ball than he was, more sure of themselves when they told their spouse or children that ‘Everything will be O-Kay.’ Not only was he unable to say it, especially in that sure, calm tone they all said it in, but he didn’t have anyone here to tell him it either. Instead, he felt a stronger sense of urgency seize him, collect in his legs and make him aggravated that no one MOVED out of his way as quickly as he wanted and that he didn’t have any way to get to his dad’s as quickly as he could. He started to hate that he didn’t have a car, a license, the fact that he was young, and that his family didn’t live together like they use to so that he didn’t have to travel across the city to see if everyone was okay. He hated that his parents got divorced even though he was perfectly okay with it before until this point when it came to an emergency and he was left alone. He hated that he was panicking easily, wasn’t calm, and that he was becoming angry for things he couldn’t change. Lastly, he felt guilt for hating his family when they could be hurt or dieing somewhere.

He pedaled faster, and he rushed through, more than an hour later, into the small house that his sister and father moved to. He shoved his bike on the driveway and rushed to the house, pulling out his own key and opening the door. “Hello?! DAD?! SIS?!” The house was quiet, but he heard the television was on in the living room. It all went quickly, just looking enough to move. To the door, open into foyer, the hallway, the kitchen, turn into the living room. Television on. News. The coffee table was spilled with an overturned plate of dinner. Looking down, he saw his sister slumped over the couch while his dad laid face down on the floor.

“OH GOD!” He dropped down, reaching for his father and gripping the man’s polo. “Dad! DAD!!” Gripping his shoulders, he grunted as he rolled the middle-aged man onto his back, shoving the coffee table away to make room and causing a cup of tea to tip over and spill onto the carpet. Scanning his body, he noticed no signs of blood, and then patted him for a moment before holding his breath, touching his neck in the same way he knew to monitor his heart rate for track.

A gentle thud pressed against his fingertips and he felt his own heart leap up in response. He was alive, but he was unconscious. Breathing out, he turned and looked at his sister, crawling over his father’s legs to brush her hair out of her face and get a good look at her, checking her for signs of life. Confirming that she too had a heart rate, he then breathed out, trying to will his heart to slow down. They were both alive, but they were both unconscious. The news played, no doubt having interrupted the regularly scheduled program, and Ladon turned to look at his sleeping father and then his sister. They were both under this sudden condition, and he felt alone. Again, he pulled out his cellphone, checked to see that he had no missed calls, and tried his mother. No answer.

Looking at them both, he rose up and went over to turn off the TV. Then, very slowly, he sat on floor and dialed 911.

“Hello..my name is Ladon Shepard and my sister and father are both ..” What really was this? It had no name. “….are both….” He felt his eyes well up with hot tears.

“Are they awake?” The dispatcher asked.

“..no..” He croaked back, jaw clenching as he breathed in large gups of air. He could hear the tapping on the other end of a keyboard, the wave of other phone conversations from an overworked department, and then her voice. “Don’t worry. Everything will be Okay.” She seemed to have noticed his silence and wavering voice. Voices she was dealing with all day.

Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his unconscious sister and father. It took him a moment before he sniffed hard and wiped the length of his arm across his face, before he nodded his head. “Can you say that again?”


“Everything will be Okay.”