Suddenly On Maple Street

A helmet lay abandoned on the sidewalk. Shreds of glass were strewn about the road. There was a small piece of brilliant metal laying about five feet away. Some plaid fabric was intertwined with it. This was the scene. The one I did not want to come to but had no choice. A deep sadness overwhelmed me.
It was only yesterday I was with Tristan riding our bikes through the old trails. He was always concerned with safety. I am sure his mom and dad drilled him everyday on wearing his helmet and protective gear. I on the other hand made fun of him. I wore my helmet but only because it was the law. I often took it off the minute we were riding through the bush trails.
I can still hear him call me. “Libby, come on I’ll race you to the creek.” He called out. “Hurry up, lets go, I’ll give you a head start.”
Tristan was such fun; he usually had great ideas and a wonderful imagination. We often went to the creek together. It was at the creek that we shared our inner most secrets, our dreams and plans.
“Tristan,” I would say, “Will we always be friends?” “I always want you to be part of my life, no matter where life leads lets promise one another that we will always be the best of friends.”
“Oh Libby,” he would sigh, as he held up two fingers like the scout promise, “we will always be the best of friends, no matter where life leads us and no matter where we live, scouts honour.”
He laughed often and had an infectious laugh. Just looking at a fish in the creek would bring a smile to Tristan’s’ face.
Today was different, there would be no racing to the creek or sharing secrets or talking quietly as we lazily sat on our back yard swing. Today Tristan was not here.
It happened suddenly Tristan had just left my house and was on his way home for dinner. He raced down our driveway and along the street towards his house. He looked both ways, I saw him do that with my own eyes. Then peddling as fast as he could he headed for home, he knew he was late for dinner and his mom would be worried. I was in the house helping my mom when I heard the blood curdling screeching of car tires.
“Mom, what was that?’ I asked with a look of terror on my face, “was that a car, what did it hit, what is going on?”
“Stay here Libby, I’ll go and have a look,” my mom said in a fearful tone, “don’t move, turn the stove off and wait right here.’
My mom ran out of the door and headed in the same direction Tristan had gone. I do not think she was gone more than a minute when she came tearing through the house again. The look on her face told me that the news wasn’t good. She confirmed my deepest fears as she told me it was Tristan.

“Call 911,” she yelled, “tell them there has been an accident at the corner of Maple Lane and Sugar Street, a bike and a car, tell them to send an ambulance and police, I think the driver is drunk, hurry, hurry.” My mom’s voice was filled with panic as she grabbed the first aid kit and some blankets. She ran out of the house again and yelled back at me, “Stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can, don’t come to the corner.”
I wanted to run to the corner, I wanted my mom to tell me everything is okay, I wanted to see Tristan standing there telling me how close the driver had come to hitting him. I knew that none of that was true. In my heart, I knew things were bad, somehow, I knew it was Tristan. My heart was pounding and my hands where shaking. I thought I would crumble on the floor because my knees felt like jello. I could hardly hold the phone but in spite of how I felt I quickly dialed the emergency number and gave them what little information I had. Then I sank to the floor and a flood of tears burst forth from me like a rambling river. I sobbed and shook for what seemed like hours. In the midst of all my pain, I heard the emergency vehicles and hoped that my mom would soon be home with news. Right now any news would be acceptable, this not knowing exactly who was hurt and how badly was tearing away at my heart. I buried my head in my arms as I drew my knees up to my cheek and wiped the tears with my shirt I began to pray quietly.
Everything was quiet in the house except for my sobbing and the loud ticking of the clock. I called out to God to spare my dear friend and to be close to him. I remembered a bible verse that said ‘God is a very present help in trouble.’ I wanted Him to be that ‘present help’ for Tristan right now.
I felt a gentle breeze blow through the window and a deep peace settle in my heart. I knew that God had heard my prayer. I had to believe that He had Tristan’s life in His hands.
It seemed like hours before my mom came back into the house. She looked exhausted, her face was smudged with dirt and her clothes were spattered with blood.
“Libby,” she said quietly, “please pour me a cool drink and take it to the patio, I will just clean up and I will be right there, I want to talk to you.”
I felt numb but I did as my mom asked me to do. I seemed to be in another world, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I poured the drinks and headed for the patio with them. The waiting for my mom to come and bring me news was almost unbearable. My thoughts wandered to all the great times I had with Tristan and all the secrets we shared.
“Libby, Lib,” my mom said as she took the chair beside me. “I know this is going to be hard for all of us but I want you to know what happened.” “It was Tristan involved in the accident, the driver of the car was about eighteen years old and he had been drinking, he roared around the corner and hit Tristan, knocking him into the air and off his bike.” “It looks really bad, I did what I could.”
“Mom, is he going to live?” I asked in between sobs. “Please tell me, I have to know what you think.”
“Lib, you know I don’t have those answers, only God knows and we have to trust Him with all our hearts,” my mom said gently. “We are going to pray and trust the Lord, right now I want to get cleaned up and go to the hospital and be with Tristan’s mom.”
“Can I come with you, please,” I pleased with her.
“I don’t suppose it will hurt,” my mom said. “Go and wash your face and I will meet you in the car.”
I hurried as fast as I could and prayed while doing so. I had to know how my friend was and what the outcome would be. I had to trust God and the doctors. I wanted Tristan to live. I had to believe God still had a plan for Tristan's life and that it wasn't time for him to be with Jesus. I prayed the perfect prayer, that God's will be done.