Mime Spent Apart

Part 4

Menhaus saw the car screech to a halt but could not see Peter anywhere. He raced up to where the car was, the dazed driver already starting to get out muttering apologies. He could smell burnt tarmac on the air, could taste fragments of burning rubber in his mouth. There was a small dent in the car's hood. It was a white car and it had a red smear where the dent was. Jesus.

"Peter! Are you OK?" Tina was yelling behind him, he turned around and saw that Peter had been found lying half under a parked car further up the street. He looked like a crumpled up ball of tissue paper, when someone had not just a cold but a constant stream from hayfever and they hold onto the same tissue for a while and run it ragged but then just dispose or it without a second thought, dropping it to lie where it fell, normally lost within the bedsheets till a disapproving and slightly grossed out partner will find it later in the night, normally by rolling onto it. Menhaus could hear a low groan coming from him. He leaned against the car Peter was sticking out from under, the feel was warm to the skin. "Peter?" Peter's previously white shirt had a slowly growing patch of red just under the right breast. Menhaus pulled out his mobile phone and dialed emergency. After a short recorded message letting him know that the number was only to be used for real emergencies he was put through to a woman who asked for what sort of emergency it was then put him through to ambulance services.

"OK, where are you?"

"Umm... it's a restaurant. "Tonsil Hockey""

"Tonsil Hockey? Is that in the city? Can you see what street it's on?"

"Yes it's in the city. Umm it's on... Redgrove Road? No, maybe..."

"It's alright, I've found it. Sending an ambulance to the location now. Now, tell me how your friend looks."

Menhaus looked down at Peter, who was still goaning but much softer."

"Not good. He's not looking good. He... he was thrown when he was hit, he's part under a car."

"Can you tell if he's breathing?"

"Yes, he must be, he's groaning. There's... there's blood oh it's bad." Menhaus ran his free hair through his hair and did a quick spin and walked a couple of steps away from Peter. The road seemed made from rubber under his feet.

"OK calm down. Hmm, it might not be best for you to move him then. Is his head lying to the side?"

Menhaus looked down. "Yes, it is."

"Alright good, you don't need to worry about that then. Just sit tight and the ambulance will be there soon, OK? In the meantime I'll keep you on the phone in case you notice anything else. You mentioned he was bleeding, is that correct?"

"Yeah, on his front."

"Are you able to lift his shirt a little to see how bad the wound is?"

Menhaus crouched down and gingerly lifted Peter's shirt. Peter inhaled sharply when the shirt passed over the growing red stain. Underneath his ribcage did not look quite right at the base, as it had been flattened and there was a small pool of blood that seemed to increase a little with every ragged breath. Menhaus described this to the woman on the line.

"Are there any bubbles in the blood?"

"None that I can see."

"Ok, find something to hold against the wound until the ambulance gets there but don't push too hard, chances are a rib is broken."

Menhaus quickly pulled his tshirt over his head, balled it up and put it against the wound. Peter grabbed hold of his arm when he did so.

"Men.. Menhaus..."