1. Buster

ONE

Buster

Saturday, August 3, 2024

Alabama Adventure & Splash Adventure

4599 Splash Adventure Parkway, Bessemer, AL

11:47 pm

The sun beats down on my neck as I hold Lucy's hand, guiding her through the bustling water park. I left early this morning to drive to Tuscaloosa to pick her up from my brother and bring her here for one of our regular Buster-Lu dates, as we call them.

Lucy is my only niece, or nephew, for that matter. I've never thought much about having kids of my own. Lucy does just fine as my stand-in. Thank the good lord above Lara never got pregnant while we were together. What a double nightmare that would have been.

"Gobble up your corn dog, knucklehead, so you'll have lots of energy for all the fun we are about to have," I tell her excitedly.

I'm not sure who likes these types of places more, my four-year-old niece or me, a grown-ass thirty-one-year-old general surgeon. As anyone who knows me says, I am like a gigantic kid.

Lucy's little legs struggle to keep up with my long strides, so I slow down, matching her excited skips.

"Uncle Buster, look at that big slide!" Lucy points, her eyes wide with wonder.

I follow her gaze to the towering water slide, a twisting behemoth that looms over the park. "Wow, Lulu! That's a monster. You wanna try it?"

She shakes her head vigorously, pigtails whipping back and forth. "No way! It's too scary."

"Smart girl. How about we start with something more your speed?"

We make our way to the kiddie pool area, a colorful oasis of shallow water and miniature slides. Lucy's face lights up, and she tugs at my hand.

"Can I go in now? Please, please, please?"

I chuckle, dropping our beach bag on a nearby lounge chair. "Hold your horses, kiddo. We gotta put on some sunscreen first."

Lucy groans but stands still as I slather the lotion on her arms and face. She wrinkles her nose at the coconut scent.

"There. Now you're ready to?—"

Before I can finish, she's off like a shot, splashing into the shallow water with a squeal of delight. I shake my head, grinning as I watch her play.

A nearby mom catches my eye, giving me an approving nod. "She's adorable. Your daughter?"

"Niece," I correct, puffing up with pride. "I'm the funcle."

The woman gives me a sideways glance, realizing not everyone has my bizarre sense of humor. "Fun Uncle. I'm the fun uncle."

The woman laughs. "Ah! So clever. I can see that you are. It's sweet of you to bring her here."

I glance down to see if she's wearing a ring. She could be girlfriend material. I've never dated a single mom, but that could be fun. I'm not quite ready to jump back into the dating pool yet, though. My ex, Lara, is raking me through the coals at the moment.

I shrug, keeping one eye on Lucy as she makes friends with another little girl. "It's our last hurrah before they close up for the season. Gotta make it count, right?"

Lucy's voice cuts through the chatter and splashing. "Uncle Buster! Come play with us!"

I give the lady an apologetic smile. "Duty calls."

Wading into the pool, I'm immediately ambushed by Lucy and her new friend. They giggle as they splash me, and I play along, pretending to be a sea monster.

"Oh no! The mighty Buster-Saurus has been defeated!" I dramatically fall backward into the water, careful not to make too big a splash.

Lucy climbs onto my chest, her little hands on her hips as she stands triumphant. "We got you, Uncle Buster!"

2:57 pm

I hoist Lucy onto my shoulders as we trudge towards the exit, our skin pruned and sun-kissed from a day of aquatic adventures. My muscles ache, but it's the good kind of tiredness that comes from a day well spent.

"Ready to head home, Lulu?"

She leans down, her chin resting on top of my head. "Can we get Dippin' Dots first? Pretty please?" I hate those tiny little frozen atomic bombs that rip my taste buds off.

I groan inwardly, knowing it's on the other side of the park. But one look at her hopeful face and I'm putty in her hands.

"Alright, munchkin. One last treat before we go."

We walk through the park, weaving between families and dodging strollers. Lucy's grip on my hair tightens as we cross into the rollercoaster section.

"Uncle Buster, look how big they are!"

I crane my neck to follow her gaze—the coasters tower above us, steel giants against the fading sky. The screams of riders echo through the air, a mix of terror and exhilaration.

"Whoa," Lucy whispers, her voice filled with awe.

We pause momentarily, watching as a coaster car hurtles past, its passengers a blur of raised arms and open mouths.

"Think you'll ride one of those someday?" I ask, giving her legs a gentle squeeze.

She shakes her head vigorously. "No way! They're too big."

I chuckle, remembering my own first rollercoaster ride. "You might change your mind when you're older. Your old Uncle Buster used to be scared of them, too."

"Really?" Her voice is skeptical.

"Yup. But then I rode one, and it was like flying. Now I can't get enough of them."

We reach the Dippin' Dots stand, and Lucy's eyes light up at the array of flavors. As she debates between rainbow and cotton candy, I check my watch. It's later than expected, and the drive back to Birmingham looms.

"Pick your poison, kiddo. We've gotta hit the road soon."

Lucy points decisively at the rainbow flavor, and I hand over a few crumpled bills. As she digs into her colorful frozen bullets, I guide us towards the exit, stealing one last look at the rollercoasters silhouetted against the setting sun.

I'm about to suggest we find a shady spot to enjoy Lucy's Dippin' Dots when a blood-curdling scream pierces the air, followed by a sickening thud. My head whips around, and my stomach drops at the sight before me.

About twenty-five feet away, a man lies crumpled on the cement, surrounded by a growing pool of blood. The crowd parts around him like water around a rock, leaving him isolated in a sea of shocked faces. My medical training kicks in, and I immediately assess the situation. It is clear that the man's skull is split open—he must have fallen from one of the rides high above us.

I glance down at Lucy, relieved to see she's still engrossed in her ice cream, oblivious to the horror unfolding nearby. I need to help, but I can't let her see this.

"Hey, Lulu," I say, keeping my voice steady. "Can you be a big girl and stay right here to finish your ice cream? I need to check on something quickly, and then I'll be right back."

She nods, her mouth full of rainbow-colored dots. I ruffle her hair and move towards the scene, my heart racing. As I approach, I hear panicked voices and see people fumbling with their phones, likely calling for help.

"I'm a doctor," I announce, pushing through the crowd. "Let me through."

The circle of onlookers parts, and I'm face-to-face with the fallen man. His injuries are even worse up close. Blood seeps from the gash in his skull and his limbs are bent at unnatural angles. I drop to my knees beside him, careful to avoid the growing puddle of crimson.

I check for a pulse, but find nothing. His chest is still, with no signs of breathing. Despite the apparent severity of his injuries, I start chest compressions. It's futile, I know, but I can't stand by and do nothing.

"Has anyone called an ambulance?" I shout, not breaking rhythm.

A chorus of "Yes" and "They're on their way" answers me.

I continue CPR, my arms burning with the effort. The man's blood soaks into my swim trunks, but I barely notice. My mind races, trying to piece together what happened. Did he jump? Fall? Was there a mechanical failure?

Park paramedics are on site in moments. I silently urge them to hurry, even though I know it's too late for this poor soul. As I work, I can't help but think of Lucy, praying she's still blissfully unaware of the gruesome scene just feet away from her.

I stand up, my legs shaky, and my swim trunks soaked with blood. The first responders take over. Their practiced movements somehow dial down the tension of the situation—at least for me.

"Is anyone else hurt?" I call out, scanning the crowd. "Did he hit anyone on the way down?"

Silence. People shake their heads, still stunned by what they've witnessed. My eyes drift over the faces, and suddenly, I freeze. There, standing at the edge of the crowd is a familiar face I haven't seen in years.

Cole.

The owner of that quaint cafe near the hospital. The woman I spent one unforgettable night with before... well, before I ghosted her like a coward. She looks just as beautiful as I remember, but something's wrong. Her shirt is splattered with blood and... oh God, is that brain matter?

"Cole?" I call out, my voice cracking. "Are you okay?"

She turns, her eyes meeting mine. Recognition flashes across her face, followed quickly by something else. Anger? Disgust? I can't tell.

I step towards her, my heart pounding. "Do you need anything? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she snaps, her voice cold as ice. Without another word, she turns on her heel and marches away, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.

I want to follow her, to make sure she is okay. Having that happen, having his goo all over her has to be disturbing. But her body language screams, ‘Stay away,' and I know I have no right to push it. Besides, I need to talk to the medics before I can leave.

As I watch her disappear into the crowd, a young girl's hand in hers, I'm hit with a wave of regret. I royally screwed things up with her, and now, seeing her again like this... It's like a giant fuck you, you complete asshole, from the feminist spirits that be.

I turn back to the scene, trying to focus on the task at hand. But my mind keeps drifting back to Cole, wondering if she's alright, knowing I'm probably the last person she wants comfort from right now.

3:33 pm

I trudge back to Lucy, my mind a whirlwind of bloody images and regrets. She's still perched on the bench, swinging her legs and scraping up the last of her Dippin' Dots.

"Ready to go, Lulu?" I force a smile, praying she doesn't notice the blood on my trunks. I pull a towel from my bag, wrap it around my waist, and change shirts. The dried blood on my hands isn't as jarring to me because I always have blood all over me, but I don't want to scar Lucy.

I find a few napkins in my bag, use a little old-fashioned spit to wet them, and scrub off as much as possible.

"Aw, do we have to?" She pouts but hops off the bench.

"'Fraid so, kiddo. It's getting late. Your momma and daddy are probably missing you right about now."

As we walk towards the exit, I can't shake the image of that poor guy, his skull split open on the pavement. I've seen plenty of trauma in the ER, but this... this was something else. I know most of those people will never see a brain like they did today and may never get the image out of their minds.

And then there's Cole. God, Cole. I'd almost forgotten about her, left her memory buried under the mountain of life since that night and the drama with Lara. But seeing her today, those clear blue eyes... There is no forgetting that woman.

What the fuck was I thinking, walking away from that one? Especially into the arms of the psycho Lara. Based on her reaction to seeing me, it looks like I've burned that bridge, so I need to put it out of my head. Regrets don't do anything for anyone.

We reach the car, and I help Lucy buckle in. As I slide into the driver's seat, I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. I look haunted.

"You okay, Uncle Buster?" Lucy asks, her little face scrunched with concern.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Just tired." I start the engine, trying to focus on the road ahead.

But my mind keeps drifting back to Cole. Her natural beauty, the way she looked at me with such disdain. I curse myself for being such an idiot. I had a chance with her, and I blew it. For what? To end up with Lara, the queen of manipulation?

As we hit the highway, Lucy chatters about her favorite slides. If not for the horror story of an ending, today was perfect. "This might go up there to one of our best Buster-Lu's, huh?"

"Yes! It was my favoritest date ever. Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Oh, sweetie, I wish we could. I have to stay in Birmingham tomorrow because I'll be on call. But we will come back next summer, for sure."

I need to find a replacement for this memory. I don't want to associate a split skull and thick, red plasma oozing out of it with one of my favorite places to visit.

And as hard as I'm trying, I can't shake the image of Cole, either, walking away, covered in what was left of the poor guy. I wonder if she's okay, if she has someone to talk to about what she saw. That was traumatic, even for an ER General Surgeon.