In the Passenger Seat on the Way to the Hospital

            Perhaps what bothered Tony most about the situation, aside from the mind-bendingly agonizing pain, was the stickiness and acrid metallic smell of the blood that now covered his left hand and his new suede jacket. The jacket, which he had just received the week before for Christmas, would be ruined. He was sure of it. The  pain he understood. Expected even. But it was really the stickiness that was troublesome. He could never stand to have his hands sticky, it was torture. And the inching that he felt as the blood dried on the hair on his arm was just ridiculous. How was he expected to experience his terror properly with all of these distractions. The way he saw it; when a man severs his pinky, that should be the only thing on his mind.

            “Hang in there, Tony, we‘ll be there soon!” His wife Martha shouted as they hung a hard left turn. Tony wondered why she was shouting. Was it due to panic? Or perhaps he was still screaming and she was shouting over him. He couldn’t be sure. He felt about as attached to reality as to his left pinky.

            This pinky itself was gone. He was sure of it. He had seen it go flying over the fence as the split halves of log tumbled onto the ground next to the chopping block. What a sickening sight to see a piece of his body hurdling through the air. The neighbors cat was probably gnawing on it at that moment. How would he get along at work with only nine fingers? Would he have to learn to type with a prosthetic pinky, or would he just learn to type with only nine fingers? He couldn’t take time off of work for this, he had just spent the last of his sick days to get New Years Eve off.

            Suddenly Tony noticed that the stickiness didn’t bother him so much any more. The pain felt duller and his hand felt cold and numb. As he turned his head to see the streaming colors of the cars outside the window, he wondered if he was close to death or just in shock. Judging by the redness of his pants and shoes, Tony had lost a lot of blood. He couldn’t think about it anymore, it was too much to handle and he was getting so sleepy.

            “Try to stay awake, Baby, just a few more minutes.” Martha said, this time much quieter.  Her tone was more calm and soothing, but there was a hint of panic underneath. Tony wondered how far away this hospital was. It felt like they had been driving for hours, though it had probably only been fifteen minutes. By this point it became hard to care.  He was starting to feel very comfortable with his head resting on the dashboard. So comfortable, in fact, that it became hard to keep his eyes open and he had almost completely forgotten why his hands were so sticky and red.