Chapter 1

They say 'Luck' is a fickle lady. No offense (Offence for you East ponders) meant to the girls.

By most score keeping methods I should be a happy, no make that a very happy man. Only me and Grandma knew the truth though. I was not a 'Happy Camper)

They say money is the root of all evil. That was probably understated some. Sixteen, college and a future to look forward to all were gone in an instant. From a normal family of 2 adults, 2 children and one on the way we had fit the definition of your average American family; that is until the drunken, doped up, asleep, 'friggin' truck driver plowed into our car.

Broken legs, a broken arm in three places, half a face and glass shards they say will work themselves out, in time. I was 'lucky' they said. My family was gone. The truck driver woke up on the way to jail. It was his 5th DUI accident.

At 16 the judge was not quite sure what to do with me. Grandma did however. I spent more than 3 months learning to get up and 3 more to walk some with crutches. Plastic surgery would wait, a few new grafts though, which hurt like Hell, let me tell you and I was ready. For what I was not sure. The car pieces were still in impound. The driver was being held, a check showed he had a dozen skips in four other States. The oil company was not about to bail him out again, family or not. Too much bad press this time.

Insurance paid for a new car, less wear and tear of $3,500 on a current model year car only 37 days old. Life insurances on Mom and Dad, plus Sis were doubled. I had Grandma sell the house and moved in with her for a while. The one thing I wanted was justice, justice I found out meant a lot of different things to a lot of people. My definition was simple. 'An eye for an eye' would bring nobody back but ... it seemed the right thing as far as I was concerned.

It took nearly 18 months, with all the delays, for the criminal suit to reach court. Any pretense of a fair and impartial criminal trial evaporated when the driver asked to be tried by a judge. He got 60 days, adjusted for time served and a $1,000 fine. Those other States would have to extradite him themselves. Remember OJ. Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you. The judge later retired to his new ranch in Australia. Imagine that.

I refused any real reconstructive surgery for the trial. I wanted to walk, (Wheeled in really) and let the bastard see how he had left me. Not real smart on my part maybe, like he cared; but ... you know, something I had set in my mind a long time ago; just like getting Justice. It was not revenge, it was to be Justice. It was a shame he could not die three times.

The Civil suit was more to my liking, $8.5 Million each for Mom and Dad's murder, $5 Million for Sis's and $17 Million for me plus a pain and suffering award of $25 Million, about 1.5 hours of profit for that oil giant ... I was 18 now, and at least walking. I had made that Justice my life's goal. I would find that now was a flawed objective.

Not certain when it happened but the people I had hired to keep track of the driver who killed my family, informed me he was dead, his truck careening off a mountain road into the hillside. I guess the other saying about 'Vengeance' was true after all.

That now left me free to... ? To what? I pretty much had placed all my eggs in one basket. I still had someplace to go, right? No it was not a cemetery or a mausoleum, it was the ocean. One place where no one could dispute other than man ruled. I sat down in the sand and watched the rolling waves crash against the rocks or wash in towards the beach. There must have been some dust in the air cause my eyes were tearing up some.

Not sure how long I sat there. I know it was not long enough though. I got up and had several choices which way to go. Straight ahead into the water held the greater appeal. The sound of my heart beating was all I could hear. That dust must have been really, really thick now. Men don't cry I told myself. Shit, I wiped my eyes. "Damn dust!" I mumbled. I started to walk, which way I really don't remember.

It was like 9:10 am, on a cloudy day, more like smog around here already coming down from LA. Ocean beach was dab smack in the middle of the San Diego River and Point Loma Beach. Oh, there was that wet spot to the west too, called the Pacific Pond or something like that. The beach was a popular place but not usually this early on a weekday, unless you were a serious surfer and the waves were up.

I saw the shape ahead. I knew it was a she because I saw her dress billowing. Remembering this was California I tempered that thought though. As I got closer I saw she was holding something. I got closer still and that something moved. She was holding a child. It was the perfect scene. I wish I had a camera, 'Mother and Daughter, on the Beach', what a picture or painting that would make.

She suddenly sat down, or fell down, I was not close enough to tell. I ran to them, and saw both sort of just lying there. I took out a cell, called 911 while still running and actually got hold of an operator that really seemed to care. Not sure why, but I asked her to call me back when she got off. It just came out. I initially wanted to thank her, there were so many horror stories about 911 calls. All the time I was talking I was running to where they were both lying.

Beach rescue was already there when I reached them. Running on beach sand in wingtips was a might slow. I guess 911 calls went to more than the police and fire. It turned out to be a little bloody as the medicos made a slice to their throats, inserted a tube down and started an IV into both of them. While they were lying there, I had some kind of feeling that I could be looking at myself there someday.

A Med-Evac helicopter landed nearby and two men raced out, one stretcher, both limp forms hoisted up and they were off. I walked over to the beach team. "Will they be Okay?" I asked.

The guy shrugged, the girl said, "You the guy that called 911?"

"Yes! I saw them falling down? How are they?"

"Don't know! They both took something. We helped them breath and tried to use an IV, the kid was pretty small, so it, it may be too late for her. God, I hate when this happens to a kid."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"My guess and I never said this, is she wanted to kill herself and the kid!"

I just nodded my head. I could relate to that wish. I felt that I too had nothing left to live for.

My cell rang.

"Yes!"

"You called 911?"

"Yes!"

"I'm Sheila, I was the 911 operator!"

"Hi! I'm Mike, Mike Manzo and I'm still here on the beach. Thank you for whatever you did. There were people here in a few minutes. A helicopter took them both away."

"We were lucky, the hospital had sent a med team to the beach to teach the life guards, I knew about it because my brother was one of them. I called his cell, he and his partner were close by he said. I hope they will be all right."

"Not sure, they said both had taken something. She might have been trying to kill both of them!"

"Wait. Let me check?"

She came back a few minutes later. "They flew them to Sharps Hospital, the ICU in ER."

"What can we do?"

"Pick me up, (she was close) we can go see. My brother works there so they may cut us some slack?"

When I picked her up I did not realize how I looked with wet slacks, sand and water squishing from my wingtips and still wearing a suit. Her hand to stifle a laugh made me more aware of how I looked.

"Sheila Johnson." She extended her hand.

"Mike Manzo and we have to stop meeting like this Sheila!"

It got her to laugh.

"God, I've never done anything like this. We're not supposed to ... to..."

"What, to try to save lives? No way, you are doing anything wrong, and if anyone says you are, screw em!"

I think she was going to say something but thought better about it and stopped. I had to look at her closer, she was a typical California girl, but then again maybe looks were deceiving in her case. Not many would care so much about a stranger. Then again, maybe she was not the only unusual acting one in the car.

We got to Sharps. Parked in the no parking and went inside. (A $500 ticket in California.) I was holding her hand. It just felt right to do so.

"The Med evac brought a woman and child in. Will they be Okay?"

A man hurriedly came out. "Are you their family?"

"No, I was the 911 operator, Mike called in to me from the beach. My brother works here he was the guy to call for the rescue fight."

"Well, I can't say anything. We're trying to reach any family. All we have based on her name is a guy at the Naval Base in Coronado Island. We can't reach him or anyone else."

"Look, if it's a question of money or who to bill, I'll pay for everything. If..."

"No. It's nothing to do with money, It's..."

He just shook his head and walked away.

I looked at Sheila, the 'deer in the headlight' look on her face. She started to cry. I wanted to cry. I hugged her close as we found a place to sit.

"It's not fair!" she said.

"Nope, life's not fair either."