Message-ID: <20862eli$9903300222@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MelLin6695@aol.com Subject: New TG from Waldo - Wreck - Part 1 of 10 parts Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6f029d22.37004680@aol.com> Wreck by Waldo (mellin6695@aol.com) All rights reserved by the author. Permission is given to Nifty, Fictionmania, and Sapphire to archive/distribute this story. Permission is usually given to other free sites by sending me an e-mail defining where the story will be posted. It's an adult story. Chapter 1 - How it started The harsh sound of the telephone ringing wakes me with a start. My body is instantly awake but my mind is still sluggish from the deep sleep of the last several hours. I grab the clock and stare at its illuminated face, seeing that it is about two a.m., not really believing that someone has the gall to call my number at that freaking hour. Angrily I pick up the telephone handset, determined to tell someone to get fucked, for waking me up at this ungodly hour - on a work night at that. My mouth is still numb with sleep but I grumble "HELLO!" in a very loud and angry tone, trying to convince my still unknown caller from ever repeating this mistake to my number again. I try to hang onto the last vestiges of a pleasant dream, knowing that this phone call is probably nothing more than another wrong number by some fumble-fingered drunk in a bar. There is a pause where I expect my still unknown caller to hang up without saying anything, then the speaker timidly cries in a hesitant, shaken voice "Gary, it's Lucille. Jimmy's been in a car wreck. I'm scared and don't think I can drive my car. Can you take me to the hospital?" I sit bolt upright in my bed, shocked awake from her plea, at the same time trying to determine if I am having a nightmare. Jimmy is my best friend and Lucille is his mother. I am hearing her words but I not sure if I heard her correctly. I can only mumble my confusion "What? Hello? What happened? Is he all right?" "I don't know. The police just called me from the wreck site. He's on his way to the hospital in an ambulance. I'm so scared that I don't think I can drive myself down there. I don't know what I'll do if he dies," she cries as her sobbing breaks up her plea for help. "Get dressed. I'll be there in less than ten minutes." "Thanks, Gary." she hangs up the phone, while I stare at my phone, realizing that I'm awake and that it is a real emergency. I switch on the bed stand light, grimacing as the bright light burns into my eye sockets. Jumping to my feet, I pull on my jeans and grab a T-shirt. Within two minutes, I'm running out the door, pausing just long enough to leave a note for my parents on the kitchen table so they will know what occurred and why I'm not home in my bed. I drive my souped up pickup truck as fast as I can, remembering how scared Lucille's voice sounded and I feel the same way. I cover the six miles between our houses in record time, discovering Jimmy's very scared looking mother waiting for me at the end of her driveway. She jumps into my truck and I pull out as soon as she shuts the door. Perhaps I pulled out a little too fast because my tires squealed and Lucille's head jerks from my rapid takeoff. She looks at me with one of those 'you ought to know better' motherly looks as she calmly commands "Please slow down. We won't be able to help Jimmy if we're in a wreck also." "Ok," I reluctantly respond, as I back off on the gas pedal, still keeping my speedometer set at a good ten to fifteen miles more than the speed limit; feeling very frustrated at having to drive at what seems like a snail's pace during this emergency. "What happened?" I ask, glancing at her, seeing her white knuckles clinching a handkerchief. "He was working late tonight. The restaurant had a big private party. As their waiter, he made some extra money working over for the party and then cleaning up afterwards. On his way home, some drunk hit his car, totaling both cars at the intersection of Route 5 and King's Pike." "I wasn't planning on going that way, but that won't be much out of our way. Do you want to see his car, if it's still there?" I ask, immediately realizing that it's probably a mistake, but my mouth is speaking before my brain is put in gear. "Yes. I have to see it. Let's get it out of the way." She mumbles, with a hint of anxiety in her quivering voice. Four minutes later, I slow down as we approach the mass of flashing red and blue lights at the wreck scene. A fire truck's bright spotlights illuminate the accident area as three firemen roll up their hoses from where they've cleaned up the flammable waste. Two large wreckers are getting ready to start separating the two wrecked cars. Sitting on top of Jimmy's little, blue Honda, is one of those big, expensive, heavy and fast Cadillac's - the type that can go almost one hundred and fifty miles per hour. A state trooper stands in the middle of the road with his tape measure and clipboard as he measures the Cadillac's tire marks from where it crossed over the double yellow line and plowed into Jimmy's much smaller car. The air is pungent with the smell of spilled gasoline from the two wrecked cars. "I've seen enough.", cries Lucille, the anguish shaking her voice so that she is almost intelligible. "I don't see how he could've survived that." She whispers, her voice trembling as tears flow down her cheeks. She dabs at her eyes with a tissue as I stare at what's left of Jimmy's old car. "He's going to be all right. He's so skinny and scrawny that he can almost fit into his car's glove-box. I'm willing to bet that he crawled out unhurt. We'll get to the hospital and find him waiting on us, with nothing more than a Band-Aid on his finger." I lie, trying to soothe her upset nerves. "If he is unhurt, why did they transport him by ambulance to the hospital? Jimmy's small and fragile, not big and husky like you. I'm almost the same size as him and I know that I wouldn't have survived that serious a wreck." She babbles as she wipes the tears flowing down her cheek with her handkerchief. I shut up because my yammering is making her feel worse. To keep from thinking about how bad the accident could be, I try to concentrate on my driving, finding my thoughts drifting as I think about how right she probably is. My best friend and I are opposites in appearance. While I'm tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms, strong, and built like a football quarterback, he is a head shorter, and eighty pounds lighter than me. While I played football and basketball in high school, he went out for the only sport the school offered where his small body size didn't matter - the track team where he quickly became their star runner. An image of Jimmy's smiling face flashes in front of me and I feel a tremor as I realize how fleeting life is. We are both only twenty-one years old and still feel very invincible, but this accident is shaking some reality into me. Concentrating on my driving, it only takes a few minutes for me to arrive at the hospital where I drop her off at the Emergency Room door then park my truck while she goes on into the hospital. When I rush into the antiseptic hospital corridors, Lucille is waiting for me at the Nurse's counter with a mixture of good and bad news. "He's alive. Thank God. His face is busted up some, but he's alive. They've taken him up to surgery and I've got to go sign some papers. Come with me and give me support, Gary." I put my arm around her shoulder and follow the nurse's direction to the surgical area, guiding the frail woman who is clutching her handkerchief tightly under her chin with both hands. I'm feeling her pain, knowing that she is looking for me to provide the strength that she needs during this disaster. At the end of the corridor, a doctor who is dressed in surgical clothes and wearing those stupid looking surgical room booties, meets us. The doctor is standing by the nurse's counter, looking at Jimmy's X-rays. "Mrs. Bell, I'm Doctor Unidey. Overall, your son's pretty lucky, considering the description of the wreck. The preliminary X-rays indicate that his front teeth are knocked out, his nose, cheekbones and jaw are busted, as well as his larynx being crushed. All that can be fixed by surgery later so that he looks and sounds as good as new. The bad news is that he has a lot of damage to his urology system. The steering column of his car was mashed between his legs, severely damaging his penis, scrotal sack, and general genitalia. I'm going to do surgery, but my surgery's main goal is to stop the blood flow and to try to save his genitalia. He will need reconstructive surgery by a qualified urologist and cosmetic surgeon later on. Will you sign these paper's authorizing me to do the emergency surgery?" I'm still holding her, my arm around her frail shoulder and I feel her tremble as the doctor discusses Jimmy's problems. Without looking at the clipboard that the Doctor has shoved into her hands, she hands it to me. "I can't think, Gary. Read that and tell me what to do." I take the clipboard, read the medical release form quickly, and hand it back to her "I think that you should sign it. It's just as the doctor described. It's nothing but some legal bull shit where the doctor has filled in what he plans to do to Jimmy." She takes the pen from the doctor's hand and signs it, trusting my interpretation and guidance. Then the doctor hands me the pen, requesting that I sign as a witness. After both of our signatures are on the Surgical Approval form, he looks at me as he silently verifies that I'm planning to stay my Lucille's side during the surgery. His suggestion "I'm going to get started. If you don't want to go back home, why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get some coffee then come back up in about four hours. I'll be finished by then and he'll be in a room where you can see him." He points down the hall knowing that I will guide Lucille to the waiting area. ****** Three hours and forty minutes later, we are in the hospital ward's waiting room. The nurse comes through and tells us that we can go down to his room after they finish putting Jimmy in his bed. I had just got off the phone, calling my mother to let her know about Jimmy and why I'm going to be late going to work. I didn't do it earlier because I didn't want to wake my parents. As soon as the nurse let us into Jimmy's room, I put my arm back around Lucille's shoulder and try to give her the courage to walk into her son's room - to see him for the first time since the accident. The only way to describe him is that he looks somewhat like a mummy with the sheet pulled up over him. As we enter the room, his nurse pulls back the bedsheet to adjust one of the tubes running into the gauze between his legs; allowing us a quick peek at his body. Only his face and his middle are wrapped up in white gauze. There is a mass of long brown hair hanging out of the back of the facial bandage, looking like a big ponytail the way the bandages force it back. His mother tearfully looks away, unable to watch the nurse as she finishes her minor adjustment of the tubes between Jimmy's spread legs. Stepping around the nurse, Lucille continues to his side, and immediately picks his hand up, squeezing it while she whispers, "Jimmy, I'm here and Gary's here with me. Can you hear me?" Through the narrow opening around his eyes, I see him as he opens his eyes. Using only his eyes, he smiles as he nods his head and responds to her presence. Focusing his eyes on me, he smiles again as he weakly holds one hand up, with the thump in an upraised position, signaling me that he is O.K. The next hour is a blur of stepping out into the hallway with Lucille as she bursts into another round of tears and staying beside Jimmy's bed trying to cheer up my best friend. He keeps signaling me with his eyes, asking me to take care of his mother and I keep nodding, while my blabbing mouth spouts all the usual garbage that you tell seriously hurt people. Jimmy can't talk, is still heavily drugged and all his mother can do, is hold his hand and cry as she watches him constantly flip back and forth from being awake to a drug induced sleep. I feel awkward not being able to do anything more to help him and feeling his hurt as if it happened to me. He has been my best friend through the last nine years of school, and he is the person that pushed me and supported me to go against my parent's constant career desires that I become a draftsman. Instead, he encouraged me to become an auto mechanic which is something that I really wanted to do. While my short life has been full of ups and downs, Jimmy has always been the person to stand by me and help me get out of whatever trouble I wandered into. Which is very frequent because I like to raise hell and kick ass. I'm constantly dodging some problem caused by my overactive testosterone. Whether it is a girl problem or a knuckle problem with some other stud, Jimmy is the one that has all of the answers for me. And now he is hurt and there is nothing that I can do to help him. So when his Uncle Larry shows up about seven a.m., I'm very glad to slip off to work, while Larry watches Lucille and Jimmy. ****** After work, I rush back to the hospital. I find Jimmy alone in his room, propped up in bed. His eyes light up through the narrow bandaged slit when he sees me. He picks up a clipboard and writes; "Mom's still here. She's gone down to the Cafeteria to get some dinner and to give me some rest. Uncle Larry found out that it was Senator Mahoney's son who ran into me. The big, heavy car is his fucking graduation present from law school last year." "I saw the car. Not much of it's left. How are you feeling?" He writes, "My face hurts and I don't really know how to describe what it feels like to have all these damn tubes going up my body." "Good thing that you got your face busted up. As ugly as your old one was, you should have them give you a new one." A twinkle lights up his eyes as he thinks of an appropriate insult for me, then he writes, "Yeah, I've been thinking about changing the way I look. I considered having them reshape my face so that I look like you, but then I'd have every pregnant girl in town and her father looking for me." I smile at his note, thinking about the image of him with my face. I'm six foot, three inches, two hundred and ten pounds of muscle, with broad shoulders. I don't like to brag, but I've been told by a lot of people that I look like a young Rock Hudson - a heterosexual version of him with my solid chin, dazzling smile, classic features, and dark hair. Thinking about my face on Jimmy's scrawny five foot eight inch, one hundred and thirty-five pounds, narrow body almost makes me laugh. "Aggh, I can't help it if I'm a natural stud. Girls like crawling across my naked body and I can't refuse a good fucking. If she's blonde, pretty, and got nice tits, then I've got to try to fuck her." Shaking his head in disagreement, he writes, "BLONDE? You'll fuck anything in a skirt. You should be like me and wait until the right girl comes along." It is a lifelong argument between us. I like to chase women and he lives a celibate lifestyle. Don't get me wrong, he had a couple of different girlfriends in the two years after we got out of high school, but he was never the skirt-chaser that I am. While I went after women for pure, unadulterated, fucking pussy; he is very choosy in his girls, looking more for love instead of sex. I think that if I hadn't teased him a little too much in our senior year, that he would still be a virgin. "Until then, I'm going to let Oscar run rampant. What does your Uncle think about your wreck and the person that caused it?" He scribbles on his clipboard for several seconds, then hands it to me. "Unc thinks that I'm going to be rich. He's been over at the Senator's office all afternoon and I'm expecting him back at any time. The doctor was in here awhile ago and recommends that I fly up to the state capitol to see a specialist. They don't really have the skill around here to do what needs to be done to me." "Hi, Gary, how's our boy doing?" laughs Lucille as she enters his room. She is still wearing the same clothes that she had on when I picked her up earlier this morning. I glance at the clipboard and pull off the sheet where Jimmy has written all his "fucks", not wanting to accidentally upset his mother. He is an only child and she dotes over her precious little Jimmy. "Good. Just got here. Do you want me to stay here with him, while you go home and rest?" I suggest. "No, I'm planning on spending the night. I would like for you to come back and stay from eight to ten while I go home and get my stuff." I glance at my watch, remembering that I have a date with Donna tonight and knowing that she doesn't like to be stood up. Donna is my semi-regular main squeeze ever since we were in the tenth grade together - the football star and the beautiful blonde prom queen. Since that first time when she lost her virginity to me, we've gone steady together for several weeks, then break up over some stupid little problem, then double-date each other friends, and then generally date other people, doing whatever we pleased. Then mysteriously, we will somehow wind up dating each other again - thanks to my constantly horny cock and her delicious, hungry pussy. I know that she wants to marry me and I like her - for more than just being my regular piece of ass, but I'm not ready to get married. "Yeah, I can do that, but I've got to go now." I mumble, wondering how I'm going to keep from pissing off Donna tonight. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----