One morning when the children were small we walked from our house down into the harbor. When we got as far as St. Mary’s Anglican church, we stopped by the side of the road to chat with a group of friends. Back then the road was not divided, and traffic flowed in both directions. Today, one side serves as a walkway for pedestrians, and vehicles can only drive INTO the harbor via Front Street, not out.
As we stood talking, the Cable and Wireless truck approached. Taking Vanessa and Rachel by the hand, I guided them towards the entrance of the church while our friends moved in the opposite direction towards the sea. As the truck got closer, Rachel suddenly pulled her hand loose and ran to join the others across the street. To everyone’s horror we watched as the fast-moving vehicle hit Rachel, and threw her through the air like a rag doll. The driver of the truck had slammed on his brakes when he saw Rachel, and although he came to a stop before running her over she had still been hit very hard.
As would any mother, I felt my insides curl up and die. I then did the most illogical thing one could do in such a situation, I snatched my baby up from the street and started to run home with her. My friend Tom caught up with me and gently took Rachel from my arms, saying that we had to carry her to the clinic. By now Rachel was screaming at the top of her lungs, which Tom assured me that was a good sign – it meant she was alive and kicking! We climbed into the back of the Cable and Wireless truck and the driver, white in the face and shaking from the experience, delivered us to the clinic.
Rachel was terrified of the doctor, and when he approached with a big flashlight to inspect her pupils she threw a fit, screaming and scrabbling to get away from him. Meanwhile a large crowd had gathered outside the door, with people trying to get a look at Mac and Judy’s little girl. I could hear people shouting, “she gwine dead?” and, “watch she face, it done mash up!” These comments from the gallery only intensified Rachie’s fear, and made her scream even louder.
Mac arrived, sweat rolling down his face and his eyes wild with anxiety. He had been fixing his windsurfer and had fiberglass all over his hands, and had run to the clinic as soon as word about the accident got to him. He was shouting that he was going to kill the driver of the truck, and as I tried to calm him down Rachel continued screaming and kicking as the doctor attempted to examine her.
The children’s nanny (Arleus) arrived next, shoving her way through the door to see for herself what had happened. Rachel, on hearing Arleus’s voice, stopped screaming and sat bolt upright. In her funny deep voice she said, “Arleus, me nearly dead ya know!”. This cracked the crowd up – everyone burst out laughing when she made that declaration, and I was filled with relief.
Rachel had a huge fat lip, and other than two scraped knees it seemed to be the extent of her injuries. I worried about concussion and checked Rachel’s pupils throughout the night, waking the poor child frequently to shine a light in her eyes. Rachel was fine, but I had nightmares for weeks, and I am sure the driver of Cable and Wireless truck did too!