The Girl In the Grass

Sometimes life surprises you, finds you out, and doesn't let you hide.

I was driving around my neighborhood one sunny, warm, clear Saturday afternoon, going to get some food for dinner. As I reached the end of my street and began to make a right turn around the corner, I looked left down the street for any oncoming cars. Something caught my eye, and I saw something out of place: a body, fully clothed and laying face down in the grass, at the edge of a lawn, near the sidewalk. I stopped my car and stared. I saw it was a female body, a girl, or maybe it was an old woman, clothed in jeans, a shirt, black sneakers, and a multicolored bandana head-wrap thingy around her head. Her face was completely hidden in the grass. It didn't look right. From the way she lay there, I felt almost certain she was dead. It was as if only moments before I got to the corner, this girl had experienced a seizure, or maybe some sort or heart attack, and had fallen face down in the grass. Her body lay completely relaxed in a position that clearly wasn't natural or comfortable, definitely not a position someone would choose to lay in. I became nervous, terribly afraid to have to be the one who discovers a dead body, the one who has to deal with the corpse and call the police and ambulance. I've had this fear as long as I can remember, the fear of seeing death up close. I imagined calling to her, and hearing nothing, then having to lift her shoulder gently and roll her over only to see the wide eyed face of death looking at me. From my car, I stared for what seemed like several minutes, frozen with cowardice and fear. What if she was still alive and her life depended up on me calling for help? What if she had only minutes to live and her life was in my hands? I looked around, hoping someone would come out of the house she was in front of, or some other neighbor would look at see this and do something. Anyone but me.

I gave my car gas and made my turn, away from the girl. I hoped someone was going to soon discover her, and call for help. I drove to a nearby taqueria and ordered a burrito, and for a moment forgot the girl in the grass. I headed back home and drove the same route back to see if maybe she still lay there, or maybe by chance perhaps someone had discovered her. I hoped to see an ambulance, police cars, maybe some people who knew her giving a report. Maybe she had lived. As I drove down the street and came closer to the place where she had been laying, I saw no commotion. I saw only her, standing alone, looking somewhat stunned and dazed, rubbing her head and looking around, as if she had just woken up. I drove past her at a normal speed, and looked at her. She did not see me. She was alive, and I had failed.