الصوت المشترك

My ten year old was playing in the street again. I was weeding in the garden when I heard brakes squealing and a horrible crunch. I didn’t panic until I looked up and realized I couldn’t see Jake. “Jakey,” I hollered, and then repeated myself a little louder, “Jake!” I threw off my gloves and wide brimmed hat, and started walking towards the street where a pickup truck was parked in the middle of the road. The driver side door was open, and a tall man with a pair of dark sunglasses was frozen