The Hitchhiker - Concluding Part
Frozen in a fog of shock, Emma was quickly blind-sided by one of the intake nurses. "I'll need some information on your husband," the nurse asked.
Emma shrugged. What does Jacob have to do with any of this, she thought. The idea of that man's wounds belonging to her husband sent even more anxiety through her overworked system. And then it hit her. "Oh no," she replied, "My name's Emma Evans and that man is not my husband!" With a quivering voice, she explained how she'd picked up the scary stranger on Rte. 24. The nurse jotted down every detail, finally suggesting that Emma contact her "real husband." Emma never questioned the comment, but simply thanked the stoic woman and dialed.
Jacob's voice betrayed worry, but Emma could also detect a hint of disappointment. What a night, she thought, I can't win.
Jacob pleaded, "Just stay put. I'll be there as soon as I can!" Emma took a seat in the waiting room and tried to calm her nerves. It was useless.
Within minutes, a frantic woman burst through the doors and approached the frigid nurse, "I'm Paula Cowan, Brad's wife. I got here as soon as I could!"
Emma watched her. "The monster's name is Brad," she pondered, "and he has a wife named Paula." This was not how she expected their horror story to end.
Breaking Emma's train of thought, Paula blurted, "The priest administered Last Rites to my husband?"
"Yes," the nurse replied, "Father DiMarco arrived no more than five minutes ago."
Unnerved, Paula Cowan provided pages of common insurance information, all the while glancing between the nurse and the doors to the E.R. She was more of a wreck than Emma. Once done, the frazzled woman hurried for the seat beside Emma and attempted a formal introduction. It didn't work. Her tears would not allow it. "Thank you," she eventually managed between sobs, "thank you so much for stopping."
Emma was overwhelmed with another wave of emotions. For fear of making Mrs. Cowan feel worse, she didn't dare open her mouth to respond. Instead, she simply nodded and began rubbing the poor woman's back. Paula Cowan's body convulsed at the slightest touch.
In a time that seemed suspended from reality, one of the doctors, dressed in blue scrubs, approached. "Mrs. Cowan?" he inquired of the two women. His face was professional but kind.
Paula stood on wobbly legs.
"Your husband has some internal bleeding and he's lost a lot of blood, but I'm happy to announce that he's going to be fine! I was present when a very talented surgeon performed the initial operation. Once most of the bleeding was stopped, I felt it was important that you know." A smile broke through. He added, "He's going to make it!"
Paula collapsed back into her chair. Her sorrowful weeping turned to relief and joy.
The doctor concluded, "If he'd arrived here five minutes later, however, he would have never made it! Your husband is an incredibly lucky man!" With that, the paper-covered shoes scratched the floor before him.
Paula Cowan composed herself enough to look straight into Emma's eyes. This time, there were no stuttered words of gratitude. Actually, there were no words that would have sufficed anyway. Instead, a strong embrace told Emma exactly how the giant's wife felt. Emma thought she would melt in the heat of the woman's arms until a familiar scent of cologne had her searching beyond Paula's shoulder. In one magical moment, Jacob appeared. He was just standing there, soaking wet and smiling.
Emma broke one embrace and locked onto another. At last, she could allow herself the liberty to express all that raged within her. And she did. She wept hard. She was safe now. They were all safe now.
An entire week passed since the fateful night Emma met the bleeding giant, Brad Cowan. The newspaper reported the accident, indicating that Mr. Cowan was returning home from work when he lost control of his car and rolled it into a ditch on Rte. 24. They concluded that the man was "recovering well." Emma took great solace in the fact, but for whatever reason, their chance meeting had proven so traumatic that she couldn't shake Brad Cowan from her dreams. And most of those dreams were anything but pleasant.
Once Jacob sent the station wagon out to be cleaned and the telephone stopped ringing (with family and friends either criticizing or applauding her decision to stop and help), Emma only wished life to go back to normal. Her vivid and disturbing dreams, however, would not allow it. The tossing and turning continued on until one icy morning, when the doorbell rang. As an answer to Emma's prayers, closure waited to be greeted.
Emma swung open the door and nearly fainted. It was the giant. He was standing there, with one tooth missing from his mysterious smile. In one of his massive hands, he held a bouquet of lovely flowers; in the other, the hand of a tiny girl. Instinctively, Emma turned to find Jacob. He was at work. Reluctantly, she turned back and asked the mismatched pair in. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't help from trembling inside.
"Name's Brad Cowan." The giant slid his hand from the girl's and offered it to Emma. "I don't really remember if we've formally met." His face was gentle and Emma was surprised to discover that his handshake mirrored the same.
"It's a pleasure," she forced through her dry throat. "Can I offer you something to drink?" It sounded stupid, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
"No. No, thank you!" He shrugged, "I hope we're not intruding, but my daughter has been haunting me to bring her by. To be honest, I wanted to meet you as well." For a moment, Emma swore that the man was blushing. He quickly gestured the little girl to stand before him. "Go ahead, Carissa," he whispered and followed it up with a wink for Emma.
The small child was as nervous as Emma. "My Daddy says you're a hero," her tiny voice cracked, "and that you saved his life. So, I made this for you." The sweetheart handed Emma a length of blue ribbon. With a wrinkled brow, Emma accepted it and was equally surprised to discover that something heavy hung from it. She lifted it and the homemade gift made her eyes swell. It was a medal; a precious little award made by the hands of a five-year old angel. Emma reached for Carissa and for a long while, hugged Brad and Paula Cowan's beautiful daughter.
Over dinner, Emma wore the hero's medal proudly around her neck. She was happy to have finally met the monster that had been haunting her dreams. Her perception of the man had been totally incorrect and after getting to know him, she now felt at peace. There was no longer a logical reason to harbor such fear in her heart.
In turn, Jacob offered the praise deserving of any hero. He also pleaded, however, "Sweetie, please… no more hitchhikers!" To him, Emma's life meant more than the well-being of others. No matter how noble the gesture, with the way the world had brutally evolved, it wasn't worth the chance.
Emma agreed, but silently knew that it wasn't her husband's choice. It was she who would have to make the decision if it ever arose again.
