FANTASYLAND

It had been a lovely evening and the young woman was lost in thought as she walked alone across the Beverly Hills street toward her car. Suddenly, two strong hands shoved her from behind. Propelled into thick hedges that lined the curb, she heard screams of terror coming from different directions.

Shaken and confused, she rose from the bushes, brushing her hair from her face. As she turned to see what happened, she noticed an old friend racing toward her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice breathless and fearful.

The sheer horror she saw in his eyes made her tremble. “What happened?” she asked, suddenly afraid to hear the answer. “Wh . . . where’s. . . .?” Her voice choked on mounting terror and her heart pounded.

At that moment, her friend turned away and she followed his gaze.

“Oh, my God,” she screamed, seeing her worst fears realized just a few feet away. There, lying still in the middle of the street was her beloved husband, the father of her three young children. Spurred by panic, she ran faster than she ever had before.

Sinking to her knees beside his motionless body, she covered her mouth with her hands and began rocking back and forth as an eerie keening sound came from between her fingers. Through tear-filled eyes, she forced herself to look at him, frantic to do something, too afraid to touch. His legs were tangled and his right wrist looked grossly distorted as it hung limply over his abdomen, which she realized for the first time was lifting and falling. Powerful relief filled her. He was alive!

But he remained unconscious as she gazed helplessly at his unmoving frame. She noticed cuts on his left arm and a bloody gash on his chin. And then she saw the pool of blood forming around his head, seeping onto the hem of her dress. She gasped, panting in renewed terror, and her hand shook as she reached out to touch him.

“Please wake up,” she begged in a tremulous whisper, gently brushing her fingers over his lips, comforted by the warm breath she felt. “I need you,” she cried. “The kids need you. Please wake up.”

The same friend who had rushed to her side before reappeared, a grave expression on his face as he knelt down next to her. “The paramedics are here,” he told her in a gentle, calming voice. “Let them take care of him.”

“No. He needs me,” she cried out, covering her husband’s body with her own.

Ignoring her protests, her friend lifted her to her feet and supported her in his arms as a three man, one woman team rushed over. With rapid, practiced movements, they attached machines to the still body, tended his wounds, wrapped a padded metal brace around his neck, and shifted him onto a hard, cold board. His wife took a deep breath as she watched, craving the bliss of knowing and feeling absolutely nothing, and she said a prayer as she followed the stretcher into the ambulance, shuddering when the door slammed shut behind her with a jarring thud.

With the siren shrieking in the night as they sped to the hospital, she clutched her husband’s uninjured hand, willing him back to her with unrelenting determination. The loving, passion-filled life they shared couldn’t be over already. It wasn’t possible. It wouldn’t be fair. And as she thought of the wondrous, unimaginable beginnings to their fairytale romance, she refused to believe that their happily ever after could end like this.