Powerless (Book 1): Powerless (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Teary eyed and irritated, Tom sat in the kitchen waiting for his father to return from the car. Unable to focus on the task before him, yet he continued to persevere. His eyes ached, forcing him to stop and clear the tears using the sleeve of his newly-bought shirt. Forgetting himself, he used his hand to clear the moisture from his eyes. This only made the pain worse.

Returning from the car with the brown paper bag in hand, Philip entered the kitchen. Taking one look at his son, a smile began to bend his lip. Through blurred vision Tom looked back at his father, and began to laugh heartily.

“You know how much I hate chopping onions.”

Both men continued to laugh, Tom walking over to the sink, he grabbed a cloth and cleared his eyes. Philip took his place at the table and continued to chop.

“I know you hate chopping onions, but Lee loves them in his birthday meal.”

Philip had prepared every meal for his sons when they were kids and was accustomed to chopping onions and the stinging aroma did not bother him at all. Grabbing the big wooden spoon from beside the stove Tom took Philip’s place at the big pot of bubbling sauce and began to stir.

Philip and Tom both knew Lee’s struggle with his birthday and always tried to make it about him and not his mother. It was now a tradition that they would prepare a simple understated meal for all three of them. It was the only real tradition they still shared besides the obvious festive celebrations. Philip had his own tradition for this day, ever since the boys were young. Rising an hour before the rest of the house, he would quietly take his key and slip out. The boys never questioned what he did as they always knew. It was an uncomfortable reminder for Lee. Philip would come back a little emotional, but always with ingredients for both a good breakfast and Lee’s favourite dinner. Lying in bed until the aroma of breakfast wafted through the house, the boys only arose when the sounds of plates hitting the table rang out. The breakfast tradition only ended when the boys moved out; Tom for basic training and Lee for college, but the custom of dinner lived on.

It dawned on Philip that he had forgotten one bag of groceries in the trunk. “Would you mind popping out and grabbing that last bag from the boot? I’ll keep an eye on the sauce.”

Tom replied. “No problem, just make sure it doesn’t stick!” Philip, irritated by the comment, stated, “It’s nearly thirty years I’ve been making this for your brother, and not once has it stuck. I don’t intend on starting today.”

Tom was a little taken aback by this but realised that as tough as this day was for Lee, it was always going to be a hell of a lot tougher for his Dad. So without snapping back he took the big spoon out of the pot, sitting it beside the oven once more and left the room.

Philip now finished chopping the onions and turned his knife to the carrots. Muttering to himself, “God sake Philip, it’s not Toms fault. He’s just trying to help.” He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at him for something so trivial. He began to think back to the real reason he was tetchy on this day.

On the
day
Lee
was
born,
his
parents
had
been
coming
home
from
the
hospital,
where
his
mum
had
been
for
her
nine
month
check-up.
The
day
had
been
normal
for
the
young
couple,
who
were
expecting
their
second
child,
having
already
had
a
boy
two
years
before.
Josephine
dropped
her
husband
to
work
in
the
hospital
and
went
on
to
the
school
where
she
taught
English.

At
three
thirty
in
the
afternoon
she
finished
up correcting the children’s homework, putting away their projects at school
and
went
to
the
hospital
to
have
her
scan. M
eeting Philip in the reception he brought Josephine down the long corridor of maternity wards where they met the
obstetrician
. Dr. Cruz was a colleague of Philip’s and looked after Josephine during her first pregnancy. As the doctor performed the scan Josephine’s eyes were fixated on the screen as she held Philip’s hand. Dr. Cruz made the image of the foetus clear on the screen and turned to Josephine, “Do you want to know the sex?”

Josephine hesitated. “No, I want it to be a surprise.”

Turning to Philip she could see a huge smile on his face and she exclaimed. “Aw no fair, you can tell! Can’t you?”

Philip simply chuckled, brushed his hand through her hair, kissed her on the head and told her, “We’ll just have to wait and see.” Getting their keepsake picture, they then left.

Philip
drove,
as
his
wife
was
tired,
driving
the
same
way
home
that
he
had
done
every
day
for
the
past
five
years.
Some raindrops were still hitting the windscreen from an earlier downpour. Philip hit the wipers to clear any residual drops, muttering to himself, “I need to replace these wipers,” as they weren’t clearing the windscreen on the first wipe but rather taking at least three to clear his view. Josephine wasn’t paying too much attention as they drove down the streets that felt like home, past the playground where they would walk Tom, their first child, in his pram.

She could vaguely recognize the sound of Philip’s voice in the background, happily talking, but her mind was miles away. She was picturing her little girl or boy in her arms, sitting against the stomach that it now lay inside. She imagined pushing him or her down this road; chasing behind them as they learnt to walk; watching them carefully as her two children played together in the playground. In a matter of minutes she had visualized the first decade of her unborn child’s life. She thought about the friends they would make, the games they would play; the attitude they would have. Would it be a sunny happy child? A melancholy child, always fretting?

“So I sold the house and we’re moving to Hawaii…” Philip looked across at Josephine, knowing exactly what she was thinking about and enjoying teasing her anyway.

“Hang on, what?!” she exclaimed, suddenly pulled out of her thoughts.

“You’re miles away again. What is it this time? Dreaming of the unnatural musical ability he is bound to have?” he winked at her and briefly placed his hand on her leg, squeezing.

“Ha-ha, I’m sorry Philip. It’s just… all the possibilities!” the twinkle in her eye that had appeared on that day all those months ago when she first told Philip that she was pregnant had only become brighter and stronger. She was a wonderful mother to Tom and he couldn’t wait to see her with both children in her arms.

Pulling onto the highway they went to collect Tom from the childminder’s. As they
drove
along
the short
stretch of road there was
a
large
lorry
carrying
bulk
metal
in
front of them.

Being
a
cautious
man,
he
kept
his
distance as they drove. Looking ahead, Philip saw a
small
removal
van,
the
kind
used
to
move
apartment
furniture,
join
the
highway
and
merge
alongside
the
lorry.
Approaching their exit
,
the
removal
van
veered
suddenly
and
violently
in
front
of
the
lorry,
as
if
to
avoid
something
on
the
road.
The warm smile that hadn’t left Philip’s face since they’d seen the scan vanished, replaced by intense concentration.

The van caused
the
lorry
to
jack-knife and
it
tipped
onto
its
side.
The
horrendous
noise
of
metal
on
metal
and
screeching
tires
was
enough
to
send
Josephine
into
a
panicked
hysteria, torn between clutching onto the door beside her and wrapping her arms around her unborn baby,
but
Philip
was
a
meticulous
man
and
had
kept
his
distance. He
had
enough room
to
manoeuvre
out
of
danger.

Unfortunately,
the
driver
behind
Philip
wasn’t
as
adept
and
careened
into
the
back
of
his
car,
causing
him
to
be
thrust
into
the
back
of
the
lorry
and
allowing
the
bulk
metal
to
rip
apart
the
car
and
open
it
up
like
a
cheap
piece
of
tin.
Philip
had
been
knocked
out.

*

Gradually
starting
to
wake,
feeling
a
combination
of
cold
rain
and
warm
blood
cascading
from
his
face,
he found
himself
alone
in
the
car
. He
could
not
see
his
beloved
wife.
He
strained
to
get
out
of
the
car,
eventually
freeing
himself
from
the
seat
and
crawling
out
through
the
window.
His
hearing
and
vision
had
been
impaired
from
the
violent
impact
he’d
taken
to
the
head.
All
noise
was
inaudible,
as
if
underwater,
and
his
vision
was
blurred
and
fuzzy.

Struggling
to
his
feet,
he
limped
heavily
on
a
badly
damaged
leg that had been twisted in the wreckage. Trying to put the full weight of his body on his leg, it simply couldn’t take it and collapsed.
Lying on the ground unable to move, shock was starting to set in. A horrible combination of burnt rubber, fuel and oil filled his nose. The scent acted like smelling salts and revived him. Feeling panicked
h
e
began
to
look
for
Josephine. Rolling onto his front he looked into the car, but she was not there. With quick stares his eyes darted all around, but he was unable to lay his eyes on her. The thought of his best friend and life partner alone, scared and quite possibly injured gripped onto his heart. And his child. His unborn child. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he frantically searched for them.