The car was on fumes when I coasted in, and I swore if I saw that truck pull in or pass us, I was going to call the police. But I never saw it and we went on our way to the emergency room. I suppose Clay gave up or he put another plan in place, but I imagined with as serious as he was about getting rid of Callie and me, he wasn’t too happy with us. My station had been off the air for a while, but I wasn’t worried about anything but Callie. When you’re in that kind of situation, the stuff that’s important bubbles to the surface and your priorities change. That a few hill people couldn’t wake up to gospel bluegrass and Scripture reading took a backseat to getting help for someone I cared about. Callie was still slumped in the seat, and I prayed God would help me get her to a hospital fast. I was just praying up a storm and the tears were falling, partly because we’d gotten away and partly because I knew she had more hurt inside her than any tests would ever reveal. I drove up to Cabell Huntington’s emergency room entrance and told the orderly inside I had a friend in the car who didn’t have clothes.
