Kkklaaaaasshhh! As I turned back, a young man hastily limped across the road to lie down on the footpath. His face contorted in pain and several bystanders rushed to comfort him. A lady in dark overalls, bent down and secured his neck with her satchel underneath. She began talking to him partly to find out who he was and where he lived and partly to assess if he had sustained serious damage. Someone picked up the mangled cycle and propped it against the footpath. Several halted and gathered around merely to witness. One of them made a call looking very serious, presumably to the police or the ambulance.
I then turned to look at the man whose range rover had hit the cyclist. He looked as if he could have done without the accident. As he attempted to park his car away from the main road, the witnesses, hastily clicked pictures of his license plate, and told him to stay until the police arrived. Raising hands above his head as though to surrender, he clarified, “I am here. Not going anywhere.”
I didn’t know whose fault it was, for I hadn’t turned back in time. As someone asked the driver if he was drunk, someone also pointed out that the cyclist was too fast.Things would be settled once the police arrived. It was apparent to the woman holding the cyclist’s hand that his wrist was fractured. She tried to calm him and told him not to look down at his knee as he attempted to raise his head. The blood trickling from his knee which was scraped to the bone had now made a rather large spot on the footpath.
“He is losing too much blood” someone said.
I somehow woke up upon hearing that statement. Looking on to the woman to my right, I proposed, “I will get a first aid kit, so we can try and stop the blood.”
She nodded, and I darted across the street to an automobile showroom opposite the accident scene and peeked inside the glass door. A young couple was getting advice on their new purchase from the store manager. They hadn’t noticed me yet.
“There is a man here who has been hurt and he is losing blood quickly. Do you have a first aid kit?” I said as loudly as i could.
The store owner looked around as if confused. He then walked to the pillar marked with a green cross and pulled out a box from the entrapment. Still holding the box, he then looked through the glass wall to the street and said. “The ambulance has arrived.”
Indeed, there was a neon van which had come to a halt at the traffic light. Two medics were stepping out with a stretcher.
The driver after having parked his car to the side was still pacing around the cyclist apparently looking worried. As cyclist was being secured on to the stretcher, middle aged pleasant looking woman walked in. She saw the cyclist and smiled, probably due to realization that the damage to her son wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
The driver turned to the cyclist’s mother and said, “I am so so sorry.”
She consoled him, “Don’t worry about it. Its alright.” Her face was kind and reassuring. She then hurried towards her car to follow the ambulance carrying her son.
As we waited for the police car to arrive, the crowd had softened.
“This could happen to anybody you know!” The woman who had held the cyclist’s hand said to the driver as others nodded in agreement.
The police arrived seconds later and began recording statements. Soon after, the bystanders too began to find their way back. The next day, as I walked through the same spot, there was no blood there anymore.