Shark Bite

by K L Montgomery

  Once we huddle up for the final time before the whistle blows for kickoff, I breathe in the clean, fragrant scent of the freshly cut grass. I love the way it fills my lungs, soothing the very essence of my soul. I was meant to be here playing this game with this team. I was meant to do this.

  Right before kickoff I glance over to the spectators to see where Megan ended up sitting, and once I make eye contact with her, another thought pops into my mind: I was meant to fall in love with Megan Adams too. Even if it took three tries to get there.

  Third time’s the charm, after all.

  “Does Shark know about The One Who Shall Not Be Named?” my mother asks as we settle into our chairs on the sideline to watch the game. The teams are huddled up, getting ready to kick off, and all she wants to do is talk about Shark.

  I mean, I want to talk about Shark ad nauseam too, but I also want to watch this game. He did teach me a little about rugby in the past week. We even watched some videos on YouTube together so he could teach me different terms. And after he taught me about “rucks” and “scrums,” I showed him what happens if you just replace a couple of letters here and there.

  The memories of it warm my cheeks as my mother stares a hole right through me. She’s not one to take the silent treatment. Hmm, that must be where I get it from.

  “I haven’t said much about my ex-husband, no.” We do not say his name. Ever. “But I will.”

  “Okay,” my mom backs off, seeing I’m already getting perturbed. “So you guys are pretty serious then?”

  “Mom!” I glare at her. “We started dating like two weeks ago. Would you give us half a second?”

  “But you’ve known each other since you were eight,” Kathy chimes in. “That’s a pretty amazing story, really.”

  “You guys used to pretend you were married all the time,” my mom adds, and Kathy sighs in a sappy, “Awwww.”

  These two! They’re going to be the death of me. Let me watch my man play rugby, for crying out loud! “If you two don’t knock it off, I’m going to go over there and sit by Sonnet and Lindy.” I glance over at my preggo friends, and they wave back.

  The shrill whistle pierces the air, and the guys get in formation for kickoff. The ball goes sailing to the visiting team, lands in one of their arms, and he doesn’t get very far before he’s thrown to the ground by one of the Riptide guys, Gator, I believe.

  By the end of the first half, the Riptide are up by one try. It would have been seven points, but they didn’t convert on their kick. See? I learned something from our little rugby instruction this week!

  Kathy and my mom seem to have hit it off, so I head over to check on my friends. “Drew and Meric went to start setting some stuff up for the carnival,” Lindy tells me.

  I survey the field next to the parking lot, the parking lot itself, and the shelter on the other side. It definitely looks like things are starting to come together. The food trucks have arrived and have parked along the perimeter of the lot as we discussed. Walt’s vet techs and a couple of local farmers have fashioned a pen, and I can see some animals roaming around. Looks like a pig, a calf, two goats and some chickens. I think someone is supposed to bring some rabbits. Once the Kelly Carriage Company trailer gets here, we’ll have a regular menagerie.

  I can’t help but feel pride when I survey the results of almost two months of hard work on my part. Yes, I had an amazing team who helped me bring everything together, but this is my vision coming to fruition. If Andrea isn’t impressed by this, I don’t know what could possibly impress her.

  “Wow, that’s the shortest halftime ever!” my father comments as the teams take the field again.

  “Hey, they don’t mess around in rugby.” I look back over toward the Legion and see the entrance to the parking lot has been roped off, and there’s now a registration table set up under a tent emblazoned with the Beach Buddies logo. Parking will be in the empty field across the road. It all looks perfect. I glance up at the sky, and it’s cerulean blue and filled with wisps of feathery white clouds. The weather is perfection too. I couldn’t be more excited to see happy kids ransacking this place in another hour or two.

  The game is in full swing again, and it doesn’t take long for a scrum to form. I watch Shark, the other prop and hooker (remember when I thought that was hilarious?!) link together, followed by the other two rows of sweaty, dirt-stained guys. I’m waiting to hear the ref blow his whistle when, instead, there’s an ear-shattering scream from a few yards away from me.

  I look over, and it was Lindy who screamed. She removes her hand from her face and carefully helps Sonnet to the ground. Sonnet’s face looks red and looks puffy. I race over. “Oh my god, what’s happening?”

  “I don’t know!” Lindy pants, her voice high-pitched with fear. “She said her head hurt, and she got this stabbing pain in her right side. First, she thought it was the baby kicking, so she was going to walk around for a minute, and then I noticed her face is all swollen. She said her vision was blurry, and then she started to collapse.”

  Shark’s stepmom, my mom and dad, and Matt rush over to her side. “How far along is she?” my mom asks.

  “Seven months, I think?” I guesstimate, not knowing at all how these things work. “Wait, last week she said twenty-eight weeks.”

  “She’s due January first,” Lindy answers. “Twenty-nine weeks sounds right.”

  “Where’s Drew?” Sonnet groans, starting to come to again. “Everything is blurry…”

  I race to the edge of the field, screaming my head off, “Shark! Shark!”

  They’re literally in the middle of the scrum, and his head pops up, meaning everyone collapses. The ref blows the whistle, and I ramp up my efforts. “Shark! Please, it’s Sonnet! She collapsed!”

  Shark climbs out from the pile of guys and streaks like a bolt of lightning to the sidelines, jumping over the rope separating us from the pitch with a good foot to spare. “Call 9-1-1!” he shouts to me, and I whip out my phone and do exactly as directed as he pushes through the crowd that has surrounded Sonnet.

  I watch him talking to her, examining her, while the game comes to a complete standstill. As soon as I’m off the phone with the dispatcher, I race over to the carnival set-up area and scour the landscape for signs of Drew. Oh duh! I have my phone!

  I scroll through my contacts, and I don’t have Drew’s number, but I have Meric’s, so I call him. On the third ring, he answers. “Megan? Is something wrong?”

  “It’s Sonnet! Something’s wrong. Is Drew with you?” I rush out.

  “He went inside to find some more tape. Hold on, I’ll get him. What’s happening?”

  I glance back over to the field where Sonnet hasn’t moved, and Shark has raced to his truck, which is parked nearby. “I don’t know what’s going on. She’s sick. Please, find Drew,” I beg him.

  I hang up and walk back to the sidelines, where Shark has placed a blood pressure cuff on Sonnet’s arm and is pumping it up, a stethoscope pressed to her skin. He shakes his head and rolls her onto her left side. “Are they coming?” he shouts over his shoulder at me.

  I nod as I approach. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Pre-eclampsia, I suspect. Her blood pressure is high, heart racing. She has pain in her stomach and swelling in her hands and face. Classic symptoms.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I can’t do much without more equipment, so we’ll have to wait for the EMTs, but I’m going to stay right here with her on her left side and monitor her breathing till they get here.”

  “Oh god!” Lindy screams again. Wow, she is really good at that. “Her eyes just rolled back in her head again.”

  “Fuck, we can’t let her seize,” Shark mumbles under his breath, then pulls something else out of his bag. “Where’s Drew? Does she have any allergies to medication?”

  My mom dumps her purse out on the camp chair Sonnet was sitting in. Oh, the joy of your parents owning a pharmacy. There are at least ten pill bottles in there. “For
emergencies,” she tells me when my eyes grow to the size of two rugby balls.

  “She needs magnesium sulfate, but we’ll have to wait for the medics for that,” my mom says, “But any benzodiazepine will help.” She grabs a bottle. “Here.”

  Sonnet’s eyes flutter open. “Where’s Drew?” she murmurs just as he races up to the crowd.

  “I’m here, baby, what’s going on?” Drew drops to his knees beside her, taking his hands into hers.

  “Is she allergic to any medications?” my mom asks.

  “No,” Drew and Sonnet both say in unison.

  I grab a water bottle from a nearby cooler and hand it to her, and my mom hands them the pill. She swallows it down, and then sirens begin screaming in the distance, growing ever closer as they approach the Legion.

  “Oh, shit, the parking lot’s blocked off!” Meric yells. He’s halfway between the shelter and the pitch. My dad takes off running toward him, and once the rugby players figure out what’s going on, Walt and a couple other guys from our team race across the field to help remove the barriers so the ambulance can get into the lot and drive up as close to the patient as possible.

  Shark doesn’t leave Sonnet’s side, and it’s clear the game is over at this point. The opposing team has gone back to their tent, all drinking water and relaxing in the shade. The Riptide players who didn’t go to help with the barriers are standing near the ropes in a big clump, observing what’s going on.

  The EMTs rush out of the ambulance with a gurney as Shark starts to bark out his findings to them. I don’t understand everything, but he says something like, “BP 149/95, heart rate 94 bpm. Skin is red, warm and dry. Edema to face and hands. Tender right upper quadrant. Administered—”

  My mom elbows me as I’m straining to listen to what Shark says. “He’s great, Meggie. A real keeper. Of course, I thought so back then, too.”

  They lift Sonnet onto the gurney, secure her and wheel her back to the waiting ambulance with Drew by her side. Lindy comes over next to me and grips my trembling hand as we both watch the ambulance drive off, turning the sirens back on as soon as they hit the highway.

  When those sirens have faded, everyone is standing around like they’re waiting to be told what to do. I guess if the game is over, it’s time for me to spring into action and get everyone in place to open the gates for the carnival. That’s when we hear more sirens in the distance but growing closer.

  “What’s going on now?” I glance over to Shark, who is talking to his coach and Walt near the rope. “Are they coming back?”

  That’s when I see them. State troopers. What in the world?

  Two of them. They pull close to where the ambulance just was, and Chris Everson jumps out. I don’t know him as well as the other folks in our little “clique,” but he’s married to Sonnet’s friend Brynne. He adjusts his gun belt as he heads toward us, swagger in his step.

  “Is there a problem?” Meric asks, stepping forward. “What are you doing here, dude?”

  “Afternoon,” he says. “I got a complaint from the neighbors about commotion here at the Legion, and it looks like you’re fixing to host an event. I called the Legion office, and they said you have a permit on file, but I can’t seem to locate it in the system.”

  As soon as he spits out the word, all I can think is “Andrea,” said in my best Jerry Seinfeld voice when he greets his neighbor with a seethed, “Newman.”

  “It should be under my name,” I speak up, stepping forward. “Megan Adams. And it probably has Rehoboth Beach Buddies and Rehoboth Riptide Rugby Club as co-sponsors.”

  “Just a moment please.” He nods to his fellow officer, who climbs back inside his Tahoe presumably to search for the permit. “I’m sorry, folks. I’m just doing my job here. Not trying to ruffle any feathers.”

  “I understand, but I submitted the permit application weeks ago now, and I was sure everything was a go.” I realize right as I said it that I never got the confirmation email Andrea sent me.

  The other trooper steps out of the Tahoe and approaches us, shaking his head.

  Damn it! I am going to…have serious words with that woman! I think to myself, remembering all Shark has shared during the past week of what he learned about anger management in therapy.

  “I don’t know what to do!” I sigh, looking from my mom to my dad, then over to Walt and Shark. Matt joins us a moment later carrying a little boy on his shoulders who looks like his mini-me.

  “Everything’s set up!” Walt pleads with the officer. “The Legion has insurance that covers events and gatherings.”

  “The county needs the permit,” Corporal Everson maintains. “Guys, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to shut you down. It’s not privately owned property. And it’s within Millsboro city limits, so…”

  Shark steps forward. “Wait, so if it’s on privately owned property and not within city limits…?”

  “Then you can have any event you want, though I’d hope you’d have some sort of liability insurance on the property in case someone gets hurt,” he explains.

  Shark looks at me and then over to his stepmom. “Well, we have a huge farm where we host weddings and other events, and it’s only about eight miles from here.”

  Kathy’s face lights up. “It sure is!”

  “So you think we could direct everyone there?” My eyes widen as I look from him to his stepmom, and then to Trooper Everson, Walt, Lindy and Meric.

  “I don’t see why not,” Everson says.

  “Let’s round up the troops and head out!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

  As everyone scurries around to make it happen, Shark pulls me into his arms. “I don’t know if we won that game or lost.”

  “Oh, I think you definitely won.” I reach up and grasp his face, a palm on each side, lifting myself up to press my lips to his. “I know I did.”

  “I’ll get in touch with my EMS buddies on the way to the farm and see how Sonnet is.”

  “Good idea. Wow, I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here!”

  My parents join us, my mom wrapping her arm around my waist. “You both were very quick on your feet,” she praises us.

  “You really helped out with the meds, so thank you for that, Mrs. Adams.”

  “Oh, please, call me Beth.” She laughs. “Or Mom…you used to back in the day… And maybe you will be again someday?”

  “Mom!” I playfully punch her arm. “Let’s not get carried away here.” What am I going to do with this woman?

  I make the rounds, announcing to everyone the plans about moving the carnival to the Kelly Carriage Company. Meric and a couple of the Legion guys spray-paint a huge cardboard sign that directs people to the new location while Lindy posts the info on the event Facebook page. Matt helps out by telling his people and posting the change of plans on the Beach Buddies’ social media.

  “Ride with me?” Shark asks, pointing to his truck. “We can come back for your car later.”

  I smile at him and nod. Throwing a kiss over my shoulder to Lindy and my mom, I follow him over to his truck. He sweeps me into his arms and kisses me, this time like a woman ought to be kissed, some real Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind type stuff. I’m left breathless and tingling from head to toe when he’s finished.

  “I don’t like PDAs,” he tells me, “but I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

  I climb into the cab and rest my hand on his knee. “Come on, we’ve got a carnival to run.”

  24

  I couldn’t begin to tell you the craziest thing that happened today. I thought it would be when I heard the faint sound of “Shark! Shark!” coming from the sidelines, popping my head up only to have the entire scrum collapse on top of me. If not that, then definitely Sonnet having such a sudden onset of pre-eclampsia, though after talking more with her while we waited for the ambulance, it sounded like she had been ignoring symptoms all week, and then being out in the sun and getting dehydrated only caused them to ramp up big-time.
>
  But no, I think the craziest thing happens when we get to our property to set everything up for the carnival. First of all, Megan goes into automatic Boss Lady mode, which is a huge turn on to watch. She has a gift for delegating tasks and motivating people. She can bring people together and make them want to work as a team. I have a feeling her boss—the very one who screwed up her events permit—could learn a thing or ten from Megan. I can’t wait to give that woman a piece of my mind, but that’ll have to wait till later.

  Oh, right, so Megan going into Boss Lady mode isn’t crazy. That’s expected. What wasn’t expected was a realtor being there to show a potential buyer around the property. I practically have to muzzle my stepmom before she makes a huge scene. They’re over by the barn scoping things out when I get a phone call from an unknown number.

  I think about not answering, but then I realize it could be the hospital calling to ask me something about Sonnet. “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, is this Shannon Kelly?” the female voice asks.

  “Yes, can I help you?”

  “This is Margaret Dennison from Coastal Delaware Bank,” she greets me.

  The name doesn’t ring a bell, and I really hope this isn’t some sort of sales pitch, because then I’m going to have to dig deep to find those de-escalation tactics my therapist taught me to keep myself from going off on her. “Okay…” I say with more than a little trepidation.

  “I have a loan application on my desk, and along with it, I have four letters of reference from other members of the community. I’ve been a loan officer for several years, Mr. Kelly, and I’ve never seen anything like this. The letters aren’t only from community members, but fellow business owners in Sussex County, all writing to tell me how important it is to approve this loan to preserve what they call a piece of Delaware history, a Kelly Carriage Company. Does that ring a bell?”