The Call

By

Posted Thu, Nov 8, 2012

LAKEWOOD, Colo. — Thursday night was one of many nights that seemed like any other. Classes were done for the summer. I had taken my first class ever with my little brother, and I had enjoyed it. For the most part, I was carefree…well not really, but I felt that way that night.

I took one of those Army showers — the ones where you are clean, but you did it all in less than 5 minutes. Throwing on my favorite outfit, black pants and black vest made by City and Street, a tie I pick up from Ross and some amazing black shirt that never wrinkled. I checked myself in the mirror. “Oops, forgot to shave.”

Five minutes later I headed down the elevator, double-checking that I have the text for the club. It normally costs $20 to get in, but with the text, it is free.

I can hear the sound of my shoes scuffing against the ground as I walk. It is already 10 o’clock, and I need to make to there before 11. I am making good time, feeling confident, dressed well, positive, stress free and happy.

I make it to the club around 10:40 p.m., show my ID, make some little joke, and walk up to the counter. Flashing the text on my cell phone, I show them my credentials and head inside.

I want a drink, but the prices are too high. Being thrifty; I think of a bar across the street and walk over. I get one of their specials, which has a single shot with it. Flirting with the bar maids, we talk about tattoos, unbutton my shirt, and show her a massive back peace, still unfinished but rather impressive after admiring her’s. I give her my name, but I still struggle to remember her’s.

I walk back across the street and head into the club to the smoke patio. Not because I smoke, but it is where I have found that it is possible to see and have great conversation. I find one of my good friends, and talk to her for a few. I give her a hard time about how she keeps saying she will do a shoot with me, but flake each time.

I am excited to dance and the club is filling up. I get a phone call. It is odd as I do not know the number, but I am use to getting calls from friends all the time and I am always willing to help. But this time is very different…

“Hello, is this Alex Pringle?” The voice said. It’s a woman’s voice of which I have never heard before. What is strange is no one calls me by my first name, except close friends and family.

“This is me,” I said, wondering what this is about.

“Hello, you brother has been in an accident.”

“Was he wearing a helmet?” I asked. I was upset, but angry. Only a few weeks ago, Jesse, my brother had asked my for my favorite helmet. I gave him a pair of gloves so he could ride the motorcycle that I had traded for my old motorcycle back.

“Your brother is in the ICU,” the voice said. “He was involved in a motorcycle accident, and we are trying to reach your parents. He had you listed as brother on the cellphone that was in the passenger’s purse.”

All of my training as a medic made me think things were bad. If he was wasn’t hurt he would not need the hospital to call. He would call our parents himself.

“My parents number is …, can you call me back in a few minutes. Where is he at? I have to call them (my parents) right now,” I said.

“He is at the Hospital, here in Lakewood. I am a not a nurse, but I can call you back,” the voice said.

“OK, thanks,” I said and hung up.

I dialed my parent’s number, still really upset. Why had he not listened to me of all the times I told him to wear a helmet? How did he not realize my life was almost taken when a truck hit me just a few years earlier? The questions in my mind were coming at me so fast.

“Hello?” My parents picked up the phone.

“Jesse is in the ICU at the hospital,” I said. “I just got a call from someone at the hospital. They said he is in serious condition.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No, they had to go through the phone contacts to find my number. They are going to call back in few; can I give them your number?”

The rest of the conversations were a blur, but the next thing I remember is saying goodbye to my friend, stammering that my brother is in the ICU and having to leave.

I had to walk home, and it was around midnight. Up to my room, taking my spare helmet, gloves and jumping on my Ninja motorcycle, I headed out of Denver and to Lakewood. One of the longest rides of my life.

About Alexander Pringle

I am a former student of biology and threw many events and concessions in life I am a student of photojournalism, and a student with the Center of Innovation at Metropolitan State University of Denver. I have been very creating in my learning and a wide spectrum of studies has made me well versed in many different areas of study and of ideas. I continue to see many different ways to further pursue many different feats and journeys. With graduation around the corner, I hope to find new and great ways lean during my undergraduate. Having been in the Army, I know that with 2 degree and my military experience, I will go very far and be a very strong client.

View all posts by Alexander Pringle

One Response to “The Call”

  1. Spencer Hunt Says:

    Well written Alex, I’m sure it wasn’t easy to write about that night, but you did a great job.

    Reply

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