My dream was lost.
All day long I had looked towards the door each time it opened, hoping to see a package being delivered. I was expecting the second half of the criteria that I needed to enter the snowmobile race.
A snowmobile race may not sound like a big deal, but to my town it was. It was the biggest deal of the whole year.
There were only two criteria for entering the race. I fulfilled the first on October 15th when I turned sixteen. The second I had been working for all fall: a helmet.
When I ordered the helmet I did something peculiar. I entered the mailing address to the service station that I worked at instead of my home. My friend Cale worked there too, so all day as we worked we expected to see my helmet come through the door. I never did see it; not that day.
I trudged home that night discouraged, my mind in a downward spiral of disappointment. I could not understand. And I flopped into my bed without bothering to turn on my alarm. The race was early, but I didn’t care if I missed it.
I did miss the race, but not by much. My mother was shaking me, telling me to wake up, and crying. I was awake in moments, dressed, and running downstairs. It was 8:33. I mentally noted that the race had started 30 minutes ago. Mother said we were headed to the hospital, but hadn’t said why, or what was wrong. It was making me panicky.
I zig zagged through the kitchen, grabbing my coat and an apple. I grabbed the door handle, threw a final glance back, and froze. There. On the table. It was a helmet. A helmet? I stepped closer and gingerly picked it up.
It was the helmet that I had ordered. Black with a blue design, but it was broken. The entire shell was cracked and falling off. I turned the helmet over and looked inside. The foam was cracked all the way through and crumbling on to the table.
I could hardly breathe. My thoughts ran so fast that I could not follow them. The room blurred, but I blinked my way back into focus. I half jogged to the car, where my mother raced to the hospital.
I regretted staying home from the race now. If I had gone I would have answers. Who took my helmet. Who destroyed my helmet. How my helmet got destroyed. And how bad the damage was to the person I loved as a brother.
I knew who it was. I had figured it out on the way to the hospital. There was only one other person besides myself that knew about the helmet...only one other person that could have successfully smuggled it out of my sight. Cale. My best friend.
Inside the hospital doctors, nurses, parents, and friends informed us that it was pretty bad. Seeing as he was currently in brain surgery I didn’t assume anything less. My mind raced. Death? Paralysis? Would he be able to talk? Nobody knew. Not yet.
But they knew the story, and they told me every detail that I wanted to know. Cale had been looking for me before the race started. He had said he needed to give something to me. When I didn’t show up he still went to race, although he was reluctant. Mid-way through the race the second place snowmobile rider started challenging Cale, who was in the lead. Cale turned to look over his shoulder at the boy, and in the moments that weren’t focused straight ahead he hit a tree head on.
Fifteen hours later I was still at the hospital finally being admitted to see Cale. I stood by his bedside and stared at my injured friend. Half of his head was shaved and swollen. A long line of stitches curved from behind his ear to the hairline just above the eyebrow. I couldn’t count them.
I couldn’t count the stitches, and I couldn’t count the words that I wanted to say. But I didn’t say anything at all.
“Hey, Josh.” Cale spoke. His voice was faint like he was half asleep, but it startled me; his eyes had never opened.
“How did you know that I was here?” I asked.
“I just did. I know you.” He said, “This was supposed to end well, Josh, you know? I had it all planned. I wanted to win the race, and I was going to too. But that kid...that stupid tree got in the way. Winning was just an illusion, Josh. Everything we think is just an illusion. Our dreams for our future lives, the perfect Christmas this year, winning races...it’s all just what we want...an illusion. We paint illusions for ourselves and pretend like they’re real. Then when they’re not you wind up like me. In the hospital, or just hurt real bad… It’s just an illusion.”
I turned and began to exit the room. That was not the Cale I knew. The Cale I knew had wild dreams and a hearty laugh. The Cale I knew would never break life down to an illusion. He would tell me life is meant to be lived to the fullest. Cale always lived like it was the only moment he had, that was who he was.
I stepped out of Cale’s room, and everything vanished. I was all alone listening to Cale’s last phrase “It’s just an illusion. It’s just an illusion” over and over until I opened my eyes. The hospital was gone, and Cale stood above me.
“Come on, man, we’re gonna miss the race.” He grinned
I blinked and tried desperately to understand why I was so confused, but I couldn’t remember anything. I felt like I was stepping back into the past. Had I been dreaming? I didn’t know that either.
Something distracted Cale, and he stepped over to my dresser. I didn’t know what could be so interesting, so I got up to figure it out.
“Check this out!” I stepped along side my friend to admire the helmet.
“No way.” I whispered. “This can’t be real.”
“This is real.” Cale looked me locked his gaze with mine. “We are going to race today, and we are going to win.”
And we did.
The feeling I had felt when I woke up was just an illusion.
