An accident waiting to happen

An intoxicated pedestrian hit-and-run!

That was the brief message which went out over the police scanner – an entertainment device of sorts purchased by my maternal grandfather following his retirement from the steel mill in the Tube City – sitting on the windowsill over the kitchen sink when Grandma and Pappy Farrell came for a weekend visit to check out our new abode in the mid-size industrial city north of Pittsburgh.

The local police blotter had a more detailed description of the incident.

“At approximately two-thirty this afternoon emergency personnel were dispatched to the one hundred block of Line Avenue in Ellwood City with reports of a vehicle striking an intoxicated pedestrian before allegedly fleeing the scene.

“One person, reported to be female, age unknown, was transported by ambulance to a local hospital for possible serious injuries.”

In the mind of this rising seventh grader, he imagined a hilarious cartoon illustration of a pedestrian – who just happened to be carrying a medium bag of groceries – catapulting into the air with merchandise flying in every direction as the horseless carriage quickly sped away.

If it had been any other day, we would’ve marched along without missing a beat.

However, our life came to a screeching halt with a single telephone call from the local emergency room notifying my parents that their daughter – the intoxicated pedestrian in question – was being treated for injuries sustained in the aforementioned traffic accident.

My little sisters, intoxicated?

Something definitely smelled fishy!

Following a quick trip down the basement steps, the father of four discovered both of his daughters – ages three and seven – quietly playing house with their miniature kitchen set, which was situated in the far right-hand corner of the wide-open space; and neither one was hitting the sauce.

Just when the minister and his wife were about ready to dismiss the phone call as a harmless juvenile prank, the stay-at-home mother turned white as a ghost when the answer to their perplexing quandary hit her right between the eyes – Cheryl Dean.

The feisty 20-year-old – afflicted with cerebral palsy just like myself – had been a semi-permanent fixture in our home ever since she began attending church at our last pastorate in Bentleyville, Pennsylvania; whereupon she started referring to my folks as Mom and Dad after becoming the babysitter-in-chief for my siblings and me.

“Cheryl walked down to Lawson’s,” recollected the tall slender woman as she glanced up at the analog clock beside the stove. “Since her monthly check cleared the bank today, she expressed a desire to pick up a few items from the convenience store; but that was almost two hours ago.”

An honorary member of our extended family, she had been staying with us for the past couple of weeks and was actually scheduled to return home the following morning.

Personally, I thought she was off her rocker most of the time, especially when – my presumed big sister – was reprimanding me for some sort of underhanded mischief; but I could never have imagined she was inebriated.

Most likely, someone thought she was three sheets to the wind because of her pronounced limp which was due to one leg being shorter than the other.

Believe me, I know how stupid people think!

Nevertheless, this curious stripling practically dove headfirst into the back seat of the family station wagon when his parents had the wide-eyed lassies stay at the Cape Cod-style house with their grandparents; whereupon they drove up to Ellwood City Medical Center to check on the young lady wearing black spectacles and ascertain the particulars of the unfortunate incident.

Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?

“I was expecting to find you wrapped in a body cast,” snickered this stand-up comedian upon waltzing over to the accident-prone patient in curtain number one. “After discovering you were involved in a hit-and-run accident, I figured you broke both arms and legs; and you were going to live in our guest room for the foreseeable future recuperating from your injuries.”

Boy, it sounds to me like you’re really disappointed.

At least I won’t be emptying any chamber pots!

“Your guardian angel was definitely working overtime,” the Bible scholar was quick to point out as he entered the cubicle having spoken to the doctor. “After receiving a telephone call about your run-in with a car, we weren’t sure what to expect upon our arrival at the hospital; but according to the MRI, it showed that you only have a slight concussion along with the cuts and bruises.”

“That’s freaky deaky,” I exclaimed prior to giving my amusing take on the necessary diagnostic test. “When you went into the donut-shaped machine, it’s a good thing you weren’t taken by the Martians; but they probably would’ve brought you back after realizing your head was completely empty.”

Marcus Welby, M.D., that will be enough out of you!

Geez, this audience is a tough crowd.

How did you end up crossing Line Avenue anyway?

“Chalk it up to disorientation,” suggested the Bentworth High School graduate when climbing down from the hospital bed. “Upon exiting the store with a few things, my mind drifted back to Marshalek’s in Bentleyville; so, I started crossing the street thinking that was the way back to your house.”

“Unfortunately, a vehicle clipped me as I reached the sidewalk; and my groceries flew all over the road,” she added before slipping back into her orthopedic sneakers.

My premonition came true!

Upon gathering up the few items which survived the horrifying accident, this high-spirited prankster shared the humorous story that he had conjured up in his mind about the cartoon character getting hit by a speeding car with groceries flying in every direction.

We’ll see who the cartoon character is when we get home.

I’m shakin’ like bacon.

You still don’t know the funniest part about this whole episode.

What’s that?

The message on the police scanner said you were DRUNK!!!

Looking like a deer in headlights, Cheryl stopped at the entrance to the emergency department and stammered, “Excuse me!”