A Contemporary Tale, Part 4

A Contemporary Tale, Part 4
Monday, April 7, 2025 by Dr. James W. Walraven

Chaim watched in horror. In his dream within a dream, there he was, motionless. Was he still alive? Dead? The pro-Palestinian demonstrators moved on. Ten minutes, nothing. Twenty minutes, still nothing.

Finally after half an hour, a coworker from Climate Now! happened by. Fearful, she quietly and quickly muttered, “I’m sending you positive thoughts,” and then hurried on. If she stopped, what might happen to her? Better to move on and not risk ending up like him, or worse.

About fifteen minutes later a college administrator came by. He knew Chaim, had even encouraged him on his activist path, and to apply for that first job at Climate Now!. Did he dare stop? What if the protesters doubled back? The school had enough trouble with them already. The last thing he needed to do was to help one of their enemies. He glanced away, pretended not to see Chaim, and rushed off.

An hour! Was anyone going to stop and help him? There he continued to lie. He could tell that he was breathing, but how badly was he hurt? Did he have any broken bones? Internal bleeding? How bad a concussion might he have? You can’t keep being kicked in the head… what other damage might have been done? What’s this? A car pulling up? Stopping? A guy getting out wearing a MAGA cap?

He bent down over Chaim, who was only now starting to come to. The MAGA cap guy dialed 911 on his cell phone. “I’ll stay with you until help arrives. No don’t frown like that. I’ll make sure no more harm comes to you. Yes, I know who you are. I’ve seen your publicity for Climate Now!”

“You had a bike? Yes, it is over there. Afraid it has been destroyed: hand-brake cables cut, shifter cables cut, tires slashed, wheel spokes knocked out, wheels bent and twisted, frame bent. Seems they did a number on your bike like they did on you…. You still have your wallet? Well, that’s something at least.”

Having to detour, it took the ambulance driver ten minutes to get there. “I’ll accompany you to the hospital. Would you like me to get you something? A cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake? Are you sure? I’ll do that after you’ve safely arrived at the hospital.”

Two paramedics carefully examined Chaim. Left wrist sprain, knee sprain, probable concussion, possibly severe. At least no broken bones. They laid Chaim on a gurney as gently as they could manage, though nowhere near gently enough, Chaim thought. They placed him inside the ambulance, and took off, seeking to draw as little attention as possible, to not find themselves surrounded by those same demonstrators. Aware of the hospital they were headed to, the MAGA-cap guy arrived about ten minutes after the ambulance. Upon learning where Chaim was being kept for observation, he left to go get him that cheeseburger and shake.

Chaim did have a concussion, and the two sprains, but the concussion was less severe than expected, and the sprains could have been worse. Even with the severe cuts and contusions, he wasn’t hurt as bad as he might have been, considering the ordeal he’d just been through. It would still take weeks to recover, and several medical follow-ups would be necessary, but still.

He would have to replace his cherished bike; would insurance cover it? Possibly, as things destroyed due to riots were sometimes covered. He’d have to look into that. What was his deductible? Sick leave? How to tell mom what happened and keep her from almost endless worrying? She does so much of that. His mind was spinning off in a myriad of confusing conflicting directions.

The MAGA-cap-guy had come back, and gave him the bag of fast food that he’d asked for. “Why’d you help me? You know I’m against everything you stand for.”

“Yeah, I know. I couldn’t be a democrat, given the non-binary policies they advocate, among other things. But I’m a follower of Christ, yes a real Christian, not a phony Sunday-only one or a Christian nationalist kind of one. Christian nationalism, ugh. Evil stuff. Anyway, even though as you say, you’re against everything I stand for, or maybe more honestly, think I stand for, you’re still my neighbor, and you desperately needed help.”

“But, but…”

Share This Blog: