Whose Car is This?

January 31, 2002. Chico, CA:

?So whose car is this?? asked Nick as he got into the beat up red 1985 Volkswagen Golf that I found myself driving.

?It?s Renee?s,? replied Jake, newly in town on his first leave in a year from his station in South Korea. South Korea--that?s where my father was at the moment. He was over there teaching a bunch of high school kids to speak English. He was having the best two weeks of his life living on Green Tea and Bop (Rice). I was having the weirdest two of mine. What follows is an account of just the first night of the craziest two weeks that I have ever experienced.

?So why are we in Renee?s car?? inquired Nick as I struggle to find first gear in the unfamiliar car. It was fucked up. Whatever you hear people say about old VWs, it?s true, every last word.

?We hit her in the head with a really big wrench and stole her car. She is at the hospital getting stitches,? Jake said in an informative tone. Arnica, the fourth in the car, began to laugh uncontrollably. Nick chuckled at this, as most people would. The notion of someone you know being hit in the head by a big wrench is absurd to most. My friends and I are no exception. So of course Nick is going to laugh. Only thing was, it was true.

***

It began that night at around 8 o?clock. I was at home, talking with a friend of mine on the phone. We were correcting her term paper when there came a knock on my door. I looked over and saw the top of Arnica?s head (an unmistakable red curly mop) though the window in my door. I walked over, still on the phone, to let her in.

?Renee?s hurt,? she said in a calm matter-of-fact tone of voice. I said goodbye to my friend and quickly put the phone down, having not registered what Arnica had said, when I saw Jake and Renee walking up my front steps. One side of Renee?s face was covered in blood and Jake had his arm around her.

?Holy shit! What the hell happened?? I said, very puzzled not only to see Renee bleeding, but also to see her with Jake and Arnica. I had not seen Jake, nor hardly talked to him in over a year. He was stationed in South Korea and had not taken leave in over a year. Also, Jake and I were never really close. I was good friends with a few of his good friends and so we always just sort of tolerated each other. Those two and Renee were from two very different groups of friends and I did not quite know what to think about their being together, on my doorstep, with wounded.

?This guy threw a bottle or something through the window of the truck and it hit her,? said Jake. Jake had his parents? 1978 Ford Bronco for the evening.

?What?? I exclaimed, not knowing what the hell was going on. I turned and went to the cabinet to get out a towel and immediately went to the sink, wet the towel and gave it to Renee. She went into the bathroom and dabbed at the 3/4 inch laceration over her right eyebrow. ?Now what happened?? I said to Jake, ?Some pedestrian threw something at your car and hit her in the head??

?No,? said Jake with a sigh, ?I was driving down the street. Arnica was in the back and Renee was in the passenger seat. I went to change lanes, I didn?t see the car in the other lane so Renee yelled that there was someone there. So I hit the gas and got in front of him. I didn?t hit him or anything. I turned right at the stoplight and he followed. All of a sudden I heard the loud noise of something hitting the door of the truck and the whole truck vibrated. As we stopped at the next stoplight the guy in the car pulled up yelling and cursing at us in sync with his girlfriend or wife or whatever the bitch was, sitting in the passenger seat. I took my hands off the wheel and gestured that I was sorry, trying to tell him though closed windows that it was an accident.?

Renee came out of the bathroom, still bleeding, though not as bad. We all took a look at her head. The gash was pretty thin but very long, and it was bleeding very badly, like it was deep.

?Do you think I should go the hospital?? Renee asked, and I could tell she was half-afraid of the response she was about to get.

?I would,? both Arnica and I said at the same time. ?It looks like it might need a few stitches,? Arnica added, and at that Renee recoiled from all three of us in horror, shaking and trembling. She went back into the bathroom and began to mop the blood off of her chest and face. Jake continued with the story:

?So Renee says to us, ?I?m not sure what?s going on, but I?m going to lock the door now,? and locks the door. By this time the guy has gotten out of his car, his wife is screaming obscenities and yelling about the fact that they have a baby in the car while the guy tried with no success to open the passenger side door. After discovering that the door was locked and still yelling and cursing he starts punching the glass with his fist.? Jake demonstrated on the air in front of him.

?So I grabbed Renee?s head and pushed it toward Jake to get her out of the way,? Arnica added.

?So I put the truck in reverse,? Jake continued, ?and hit the gas a little, then slam it into drive and begin to pull away. As I do, something comes through the closed window. The next thing we knew there was glass everywhere, Renee was bleeding and I was flying though red light after red light.?

?I remembered that you lived just down the street,? said Arnica, ?So I told Jake to come here.?

I stared at them both with a kind of numb look of daze and surprise, almost not believing a word of it. I might have just laughed and thought they were both completely full of shit, but then I realized I had a bleeding 17 year old girl in my bathroom trying to get the blood out of her shirt. I was supposed to be writing a paper for my English class and doing math homework. I mean, what the fuck!

?So you think I should go to the emergency room?? Renee said when she came out of the bathroom for the second time.

"Yes," we all told her.

?Do you want me to come with you, can I do anything?? I asked, still trying to get over the shock of it and completely wracking my brain as to why Renee was with these two.

?Oh yes, would you come? My parents are going to flip out, and they at least know you.?

?Ok,? I said. Her mom is nuts. I did not want to leave poor Renee to the hapless fate of examination and lecture without some kind of moral support. I grabbed my coat and we walked out to the truck, where I saw that the passenger side window was completely shattered and there was glass everywhere. Jake opened the door gingerly and a shower of glass poured forth from the edges of the window and the inside of the truck onto the running board that was already full of shards. Jake and Renee got into the back and Arnica got behind the wheel (Jake was a bit too frazzled to drive). I grabbed a glove and brushed all the big chucks of glass out onto the curb so that I could sit in the now very well ventilated passenger seat without slicing my ass to bits. As we drove from my house to the hospital, which is not far at all, we laughed and everyone put in their little details about what had happened. They thought it was a bottle that had been thrown through the window but that no one knew exactly what it was. They also answered the question of why they were all together that night. Apparently Jeremy (my best friend and good friend of Jake and Arnica, as well as boyfriend of Renee) had given Jake?s Instant Messenger screen name to Renee, and Jake had set up dinner with Renee. No one really knows why.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot and after I was done bashing the adjacent car with my door and fumbling with the handle in the dark hoping not to slice my hand off, we made it out of the car and into the ER. The receptionist was nice and we got Renee admitted. They told us that we would have to file a police report, by law, if she was going to be seen by the M.D.

?Well, if we are going to have to talk to the cops, then let?s go find out what the hell that guy threw through the window.?

Arnica stayed with Renee while Jake and I went out to the truck. Jake opened the driver side door of the truck, knelt on the bench seat and looked around in the dark trying not to cut himself on the mess of glass that had found its way all over the cab.

?I don?t see anything. I think it was a bottle or something.? Then he went around to the other side of the car. ?Holy shit, there?s a big fucking dent over here. That must be from whatever he threw the first time, while we were still moving.? I climbed up onto the bench on the driver side and looked on the floorboard of the passenger side. Jake opened the door and as the light from the street lamp came into the car we were both taken back at the site of a 13 inch rusty crescent wrench sitting on the floor. Jake picked it up, my mouth was hanging open. ?This must have bounced off the dash and hit her in the head while she was lying across the bench. Jesus Christ.? I shut my mouth and got out of the truck. We figure that the guy threw the wrench while the truck was still moving and then when they stopped he picked it up before pounding on the window and then, in a last ditch effort to accomplish God knows what, he threw the thing through the window.

?Holy shit!? I said, ?Who the fuck throws a wrench, a rusty ass gigantic fuckin? wrench through a window at a couple of kids??

We went back into the ER and watched the mouths on the girls drop as we showed them what had flown into the cab. We talked for a while and again recounted what had happened as we sat in the lobby waiting for the doctor. It was not long before Renee?s mom, and a few friends of hers, came in. Renee had called while Jake and I were out in the truck. Much to my surprise, Renee?s mother, who has always seemed high-strung, was surprisingly calm. She, of course, had to ask what had happened, so we went though every little detail again.

?Oh, I parked it down town by the Naked Lounge,? replied Renee.

So her mom went and got the car. Renee saw the doctor--and the cops, as did the rest of us. I was jealous. I did not get to fill out one of those cool witness reports like Jake and Arnica. Who says you have to actually see what happened to be a witness?

Incidentally, the three of them failed to notice the make/model of the assailant?s car, or the license plate number. There wasn?t much hope of catching him.

Renee said that she was a little too high strung to drive home and asked me to drive her car home. So I said yes and took the keys. Renee went home with her mom and we other three went out to the parking lot.

?I?m still way too fucked up to drive,? said Jake.

?All right, well let?s go get something to eat,? I said.

?Oh no,? Jake groaned, ?I have to go and get Nick. He?s at the sports club.?

?Ok, let's all get in Renee?s car and I?ll drive over to get Nick.? So we left the Bronco in the ER parking lot and went across town to get Nick. This is where we came in.

***

?So wait, you guys aren?t bullshitting me??

?No!? said Jake.

?Holy Fuck!? was all Nick had to say for about ten minutes before we had to undergo the whole process of explaining what had happened one more time to Nick. We all decided to go to Applebee?s to eat. We harassed the waitress and talked about what a crazed and vicious society we live in. Eventually we all went our separate ways. I went home and called Jeremy. I figured he should know what had happened to his girlfriend. It was the best friend thing to do, and I wanted to be the one who got to tell the story. He told me to write it all down and send it to thingsihate.org. I thought that might be an ok idea so I sat down right then and began to write, mostly because I was still totally wired from all the coffee I had at Applebee?s.

***

I was about halfway through the first draft when there came a knock on my door. Now what the fuck is going on? I looked over and the porch light was not on. I could not see anything outside and the only light on inside was the computer screen. I got up and slowly made my way to the door. My mind was racing. Who could it be? What has happened now? I turned on the light before I opened the door and looked through the glass. There was a little dark head just barely tall enough to be seen through the window. I opened the door and a young woman, about 25 years old, with dark brown?almost black?hair, a dark complexion and Abercrombie wear, was standing on my door step. Oh god, now what the hell is going on?

She began to speak at me. I had no idea what she was saying. I thought that because of her complexion and lack of audible English skills that she might be foreign. After two or three attempts at getting me to understand what she was trying to say, she just said, ?can I use your phone?? I was flabbergasted. The little bitch was not foreign after all! I had been had!

?Sure,? I said, ?Hang on a sec.? I turned around and went in search of the phone. I heard the door close behind me. Oh shit! She walked right in and sat right down. Or she tried. She was having trouble walking. I gave her the phone and went into the other room to give her some privacy. Oh god, you?ve done it now haven?t you? What the fuck were you thinking opening the door at 4 in the morning? Oh FUCK! As I was beating the hell out of myself I was listening to this petite little thing dial, and dial and dial and dial. Either she was calling my dad in South Korea to tell him what I dumb ass I was for letting a stranger into my house at 4 in the morning, or she was so completely bombed that she couldn?t remember what number she was trying to dial. I did not know which of these two scenarios I would have liked better. I walked back in the room: ?Do you need any help?? She was sitting on the couch, slunk over as one can get and still be sitting, phone in one hand, looking up at the ceiling. She told me all about the party she had gone to, and how her friends had left her. She was new in town and had no idea where she was or how to get home. I called her a cab and gave the cabbie ten dollars. She told him that she lived in the Zoo (a part of town that is overrun with drunken college students and whorehouses.) The driver knew immediately where to go and off they went.

Exhausted from the anticipation of another ordeal, I went to bed.

I never did write my paper for English.