Page 24 - Susan Taylor
P. 24
Jerked awake from the weight of my head
bobbing side to side following a particu-
larly grueling shift at the hospital, I wasn’t
convinced that the uneasiness I felt stemmed
entirely from my decision to bend the rules
on a school night. My daughter’s skill at
presenting her case could have swayed the
most discriminating of juries. In her closing
argument, flashing her winning smile, she re-
minded me of her squeaky clean record and
her numerous academic honors and awards.
I felt like I had no choice but to deliver a ver-
dict in her favor and let her go. Furthermore,
I knew his parents kept close tabs on their
children.
Distracted by the pleading voices on public
television, I thought it must be the insistent
barrage of fund raising chatter that had me
on edge. Glancing at the clock, I realized
it was forty-five minutes before she was
due to come home. Calling her at this point
would only risk damaging the trust we had so
precariously established. She will be here
soon, I convinced myself, and decided to
get something done instead of watching the helped his Dad restore the classic car that he so proudly pulled in to
seconds tick by. our driveway a few hours ago. Did that qualify him as a skilled driver?
Did I remind her to wear her seatbelt? Did I remind him to stay off his
As I prepared school lunches for the next day, lost in the mental review cell phone while driving? Were his parents there yet or were they also
of the never ending to do list, I realized that it was my phone ringing stuck in this insane traffic?
and not the phone from
the television. I darted At last, we arrived and
and miraculously, landed The Call parking lot. I wanted to
pulled into the Emergency
too quickly in the direc-
tion of the phone, tripping
sprint through the doors,
over the stool, sliding on
leap over the reception-
the scattered newspaper
24 upright with the phone next ist desk and find my little
girl, but I refrained and
to my ear. Once the caller walked stoically beside
identified their location, an overwhelming wave of dread rippled through her Father. On the inside, I was screaming, my baby, not my baby as
me. I knew the rest of the call would require me to muster up all the I gave the clerk her name. She left us with nothing to hang on to but a
maternal strength I had, the kind that can lift a car off of a pinned child, sympathetic smile and the reassurance of her quick return. I was well
to get through the next few moments. acquainted with that look. It was the same look I had given to many
family members over the years. Panic was trying to consume me,
Getting only vague details, I slammed down the phone and reviewed but one look at her Dad and I knew I had to pull a dose of calm and
what information I would reveal to my spouse before awakening him. pseudo-reassurance from out of my own nursing bag of tricks.
Based on previous reactions to emergencies, I braced myself for his
anger, blame, and panic once he grasped the severity of the situation. As if in a trance, we were unable to take our eyes off the area where
Deflecting his questions by stressing the importance of time and unity, the clerk had disappeared down the hallway. Finally, she returned
we were both in the car, wide eyed, in less than two minutes. with a serious looking woman in a white coat. When the woman in the
white coat identified herself as our daughter’s Doctor, we followed her
On the way to the hospital, attempting to offer reassurances to my like a dog waiting for a treat. It seemed like we were in some kind of
spouse (while secretly hoping and praying what I was saying was true) endless maze of hallways, doors and partitions. She stopped in front of
I saw a tow truck with a wrecked vehicle coming toward us. My hope a cubicle with a curtain pulled around it and faced us. She seemed to
just dove off a cliff. Trying to keep my head facing forward, I studied the be speaking in slow motion; something about facial swelling and braces
truck as it passed. He followed my gaze despite my efforts. In a frantic and how lucky our daughter was. Like hearing a song directly from
tone he asked me if that mangled thing could have possibly been the heaven, I recognized her feeble voice from behind the curtain, “Mom,
car she was riding in. Getting past the denial myself, I swallowed the Dad, is that you”? I interrupted the Doctor’s explanations and drew the
large lump that had gathered in my throat and calmly as I could, told curtain back.
him that I believed it was a different model.
There she was, tears streaming down her face, and ours now as well.
The silence in the car was suffocating. I think I would have preferred On a gurney, strapped to the backboard, with a C-collar around her
more accusations and admonitions to this muteness. Feeling nause- neck, she reached out to us with her one free arm. I grabbed on to her
ated, I opened the window to let in some cold air. As I numbly stared precious hand and she squeezed back. We both bent down and gently
at the scenery rolling by, I noticed all the usual strip malls and fast food kissed her salty cheeks. She looked up at us with her braces all askew
joints seemed foreign and stark. And why did we have to hit every and with her lips swollen to twice their normal size, half smiled and said,
single red light? And why did he seem to be driving so slowly when “I feel like Bubba from Forest Gump”. Here she is the one all banged
normally he drove like a rookie Nascar driver, careening in and out of up, and she is providing the comic relief. At that point, I knew she was
traffic? going to be alright and let out the breath that I had been holding in ever
since the phone call.
If only she wouldn’t have received the call from Jason, her latest crush:
If only she wouldn’t have been so convincing about his trustworthi-
ness. So what if he is a 4.0 student, wrote for the school paper, and