by Sienna Parks
“Hey, Dad. Can we talk for a minute? I’m sorry I stormed off earlier… I’ve had stuff on my mind lately.” He ignores me. “Seriously? The silent treatment? This is a first. You’ve always got plenty to say.”
As I draw closer, I notice the sweat on his brow, and the pallor of his skin. I race to his side, dropping to my knees. The sharp, freshly cut hay jabs into my knees. “Dad. Can you hear me?” His breathing is shallow, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t open his eyes.
“Jax! Pops!” I shout as loud as I can, hoping to get their attention. “Jackson!”
I grab my phone from my pocket and dial 911 as fast as my shaking hands will let me. “Hold on, Dad. I’m going to get help. Just stay with me.”
I need an ambulance. My dad seems to have collapsed. I don’t know what happened. I just found him. I wasn’t here…
I tell the stranger on the other end of the line where to find us. She then calmly talks me through the steps to keep my dad comfortable until the ambulance arrives. We don’t have a hospital here in town, so I know I’m in for an excruciating wait. When she tells me the paramedics are twenty minutes out, I just about lose my shit. It’s the fucking twenty-first century! How can any town, no matter how small, be so far away from medical intervention?
As soon as I hang up the phone, I dial Jax.
Get down to the baler, now! Dad’s collapsed. He’s not responding to me.
The line goes dead, and within seconds I see Jax sprinting out of the house, leaving Pops holding Rae in his arms on the porch. I don’t want either of them to see my dad like this. As he grinds to a halt in front of me, my worst fears are confirmed—it’s bad.
Without a word, he holds his phone to his ear. “Where are you?” I don’t even know who he’s talking to right now. “Good. Get to the ranch, now. Bobby collapsed in the hay field, south corner, next to the baler. Hurry.” He drops the phone into the brush, focusing his attention on me.
“What happened? Is he breathing? Have you called an ambulance?” He’s rattled at the sight of my dad.
“I called the ambulance, but they said it will be twenty minutes before they get here. I don’t know what happened. I found him like this. He’s breathing, but barely. He hasn’t opened his eyes once.”
Jax jumps up into the cockpit of the tractor and switches it off, before cutting the engine on the baler. The abrupt silence that surrounds us is eerie. Usually, I’m inundated with the sounds of nature, but it’s as if the birds in the trees, and the crickets in the grass know something is wrong.
“Is Doc Barnes on his way?” I assume that’s who he called.
“A.B. will be here in two minutes. She was on a house-call at the Wentworth farm so she’s close.”
“I want Doc Barnes. He knows what he’s doing! This is my dad we’re talking about, Jax.”
“A.B. is a surgeon, Mad. She can help.”
“She moved back to this hellhole, she can’t be that great at her job. Call Barnes, now.” Tires screech through the gates, gravel churning into dust in a whirlwind of haste.
I can’t take my eyes off my dad, willing him to open his eyes or show any sign he knows I’m here. My fingers remain firmly on his wrist, his pulse faint but steady. Jax runs back to meet A.B. and show her where we are. I hazard a glimpse to the porch. Rae is sobbing, struggling to free herself from Pops’ grasp. He fights to hold onto her, but suddenly he looks frail—he looks his age in this moment. She breaks free, making a beeline for me. “Daddy!” Her tiny voice is filled with fear, something I’ve never heard before.
Pops tries to catch up with her, his features etched with concern only a father could understand. For the minutes that have felt like hours to me, he’s been shielding my daughter as his son lies in a field. Jax manages to intercept Rae, scooping her up into his arms, immediately clutching her head to his chest, ensuring she doesn’t see her granddaddy. He quickly points A.B. in my direction and heads for the house, trying to calm Rae as she screams my name.
A.B. hurries past Pops as he fights his aging body with every stride to get to his son. In an instant, she seems to get further and further away from us—the medical bag in her hand becoming more distant with every second that passes. I can’t feel it—his pulse—it’s stopped. I search frantically, convinced it’s my mistake. Placing my fingers on the side of his neck, I wait with baited breath for the tiniest flutter of hope.
I try to shout. To beg A.B. to run faster. To help him—to help me! I quickly place my hand over his chest to feel the slightest movement of his lungs filling with air… but one second turns into two, and three becomes an eternity. The strangled plea echoing through the air is unrecognizable to me. “A.B. I need you! He’s not breathing.” I watch in horror as the sentence escaping my mouth, registers on Pops’ face. He drops to his knees in the middle of the field, an anguished cry rising to the sky, begging God for his mercy.
A.B. doesn’t turn back to help him, her focus solely on getting to us. There is an unspoken conversation between us as she sets to work. Bobby is family to her. No matter what has transpired between us, it’s all forgotten in this moment.
“Open my bag. There should be a blue pump that looks kind of like a football. Grab it.” I do as she asks without hesitation. She is busy assessing him, checking for a pulse, listening for breath sounds. Within seconds she’s straddling his broad frame, her fingers interlinking before pressing down on his chest with determination, counting as she goes. “Maddox, I need you to tilt your dad’s head back slightly. It will open his airway. Then, I need you to put the mask over his mouth and nose. When I say so, I need you to squeeze the bag.”
I’ve never seen her in action like this. I have… hope. Hope she can save him.
“Squeeze.”
Sweat drips from her brow with the intense effort it takes to pump my dad’s heart through his chest.
“Squeeze.” She quickly checks for any signs he’s coming back to us. “Come on, Bobby. Work with me. You’re strong, you can do this.” The force of her compressions is brutal. My dad suddenly seems smaller. The imposing ogre I’ve always seen him as, disappears, and a mortal man lies in his place. “Squeeze.”
Pops appears at my side, tears rolling down his face as he watches A.B. fight for his son with everything she has. Sirens blare in the distance. The cavalry is on its way. A.B. doesn’t flinch, her focus like a laser beam. Pops moves to my dad’s side and slowly sits down beside him, taking his limp hand in a tight grasp. “You listen here, Bobby Hale. No man should see his son go before him. That’s a cross I cannot bear. It’s not your time, boy. You hear me? Today is not the day your momma gets to see you again.” He lifts his head to the sky. “God, you already have the woman I loved more than any other. You can’t have my son. Not today. Not while there’s breath in my body.”
A.B.’s voice cuts through the pain. “Squeeze.”
Two paramedics come running toward us. A.B. continues chest compressions, shouting orders to the paramedics. “He lost vitals eleven minutes ago. Looks like he had a massive heart attack. We don’t know how long ago. His son found him twenty minutes ago, but he had a steady pulse, breath was shallow.”
“Ma’am, let us assess the patient, please. You’ve done the right thing.”
“I know that! I’m a goddamn cardiothoracic surgeon. Charge the paddles to two hundred, and prepare a shot of thrombolytic. We’re running out of time.”
They snap into action, following her directions to the letter. A beeping noise pierces through the haze I find myself in. “Clear!”
A.B. jumps off my dad, pulling me, together with the airbag, out of his reach. Her arms are wrapped tight around my body. The paramedics shock him. His body rising violently from the ground before dropping back down. A.B. lets go and checks my dad for a heartbeat. I scramble round to Pops, his strained cries, causing a physical lump in my throat. I have no words. I simply pull him into my arms, praying I can give him some comfort as we wait—helpless a
nd afraid.
“Where’s the thrombolytic? Charge to three hundred.”
One of the paramedics hands her a syringe. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been working on my dad, putting tubes in his arm for something. She injects the clear liquid before the beeping starts again. “Clear!”
As we wait with baited breath, my dad’s body lifts off the ground before slamming back down on the short, harsh hay. I watch as A.B. searches, yet again, for any sign my dad is still alive. Her head drops, to her chest in defeat…
ANNABETH
I can’t give up… I can’t let him die. I can do this. I straddle Bobby once more, resuming compressions. “Don’t just stand there like statues. Grab the air bag and help me. Get the adrenaline!” The paramedics just stand there, looking at me.
“It’s not going to help. He’s gone, Miss.”
“DOCTOR Clark. Didn’t you hear me? I’m a fucking heart surgeon. Get the adrenaline, or I’ll do it myself!” When they still don’t move, I quickly rifle through their kit to find what I need. I remove the needle cover with my teeth, find the right spot and plunge it into his heart. Maddox is holding Pops, who is overcome with grief. This can’t be how this plays out. I resort to mouth-to-mouth in between compressions, all the while, the paramedics pleading with me to call it.
“No! I know this man. He’s strong. I can bring him back. I know I can. I have to.”
My eyesight is clouded by tears. It’s too late. I couldn’t save him now, even if I were in an operating room, never mind the middle of a field. But, I can’t make myself stop. I don’t want to call time of death on Maddox’s dad. I’ve broken his heart once in my life, and this will destroy him.
“Stop, A.B. He’s gone.” Maddox’s voice is thick with unshed tears. I ignore him. I can’t lose another patient I care about. My arms are agony from putting all my strength and all my energy into trying to make Bobby’s heart beat again. It’s not until Pops’ speaks… barely a whisper, but it’s deafening.
“Annabeth. You did everything you could. He’s gone. Please, stop. It’s over. My boy is gone.” With that, my hands just… stop. I stare into the serene face of death, broken and overwhelmed with guilt.
I lean over and kiss Bobby’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hale. I won’t forget what you told me. I promise.” I slump to the ground beside him, the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins, gone in an instant. I look at my watch, the words choking me as they pass my lips “Time of death… 3:56 p.m.”
The paramedics quickly take over, moving Bobby into the ambulance, before calling the coroner. No matter how many times I’ve seen people die as a doctor, I will never get used to it. What made him who he was, isn’t there anymore—if anything, it only confirms to me, each and every one of us have a soul that passes on. The unseen element of human beings—the part that lets us love and be loved.
When the rise and fall of a person’s chest ceases, it’s as if they physically transform. It’s something most of us don’t even think about, or notice—the everyday miracle of our lungs contracting and expanding, supplying our bodies with the oxygen we need. The absence of that imperceptible movement we make 23,000 times a day, becomes the focus of our thoughts and emotions. It’s a moment that burns itself into your brain—a reminder we are all going to die one day.
Maddox has his arms around Pops, his grandfather now silent, his tears dried up, his soul shattered into a million pieces. I pull myself together and grab my bag. “Can I check you over, Pops? Or I can have one of the paramedics do it if you’d rather?”
“I don’t need checking. I’m healthy as a horse. A cruelty rather than a gift at this point. No man should outlive his son.”
“She’s right, Pops. Let’s get you up to the house and checked out.” Maddox turns his attention to me.
“If you don’t mind taking a look at him… I would appreciate it.”
“Of course.”
We walk in silence, past the ambulance, and I sense their reluctance to leave Bobby behind. It’s a natural reaction for family members, and in this case—I feel the same way. Today started out like any other. I saw mundane patients all morning, wishing someone would have an illness more serious than a common cold. I could never have anticipated this. A wave of guilt washes over me, crashing into my chest. For days, I’ve been replaying my last encounter with Maddox, over and over in my mind… and the conversation I had with Bobby. He asked me not to hurt his son.
As we approach the house, Jax and Rae appear in the doorway. I watch as Maddox steels himself the moment he sets eyes on Rae. Her eyes are filled with tears, and she is anxious to get to her daddy. Kids are more intuitive than we give them credit for, and it’s clear she knows something is wrong.
“Daddy!” She runs into his arms, and his resolve crumbles. He drops to his knees, clutching his baby girl in his arms.
“It’s okay, sunshine.”
“Why is Docor A.B. here?” Our eyes meet, and my heart sinks. I quickly move to Pops’ side.
“Let’s get you inside.” Jax comes to my aid, wrapping his arm around Pops, guiding him up the steps and into the house. As I follow closely behind, I hear Maddox—his voice barely recognizable.
“Come sit on the swing with your daddy for a minute. I need to talk to you.”
“Daddy, I don’t wike it when you wook sad.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” The crack in his voice is my undoing.
“Jax. I need a minute. Can you get Pops a glass of water and I’ll be right back?”
I may have been gone a long time, but he still knows me better than most. I still remember where the restroom is in this old house—muscle memory, the only thing propelling me forward right now. I stagger into the small half-bath, locking the door before sinking to the floor in a flood of tears. I don’t think I can do this again.
I came back to town to get away from the loss of a patient… among other things. I had been treating her for two years, and her family adopted me as one of their own. I thought losing her on the table was the worst I could feel as a doctor. Telling her mom and dad she didn’t make it almost broke me, but this? This is by far the most horrific day of my career, and it pales in comparison to how Maddox and Pops must be feeling. Seeing all hope fade from their eyes as I tried in vain to save Bobby… was like watching a part of them die, too.
I sob in silence, willing myself to toughen up. I need to make sure Pops is okay. He could go into shock. No parent should witness the death of their child, no matter how old they are. I drag myself up and twist the creaky faucet, splashing some cold water on my face in a vain attempt to mask the redness of my eyes. I grab the towel, acutely aware it smells like Maddox—a mix of clean laundry and cologne—the same one he wore in high school. It gives me a brief moment of comfort before returning to the living room.
The rest of the evening goes by in a blur. After checking on Pops and giving him something to help him sleep, I dealt with the coroner, trying in a small way to alleviate some of the responsibilities on Maddox. Jax and I worked together to ensure everyone who needed to be informed of Bobby’s sudden passing was told, and everyone who came to the house to offer condolences didn’t disturb Pops or Rae. It took Maddox a few hours to calm her, rocking her back and forth in her room, cradling her with such unfiltered love. Eventually, they both succumbed to their grief, falling asleep held tight in each other’s arms, their cheeks still wet with tears.
I stand in the doorway, staring in awe at the boy I once knew. He has become an incredible man—so much more than I ever expected. I believed he was the rodeo playboy he was purported to be—I guess I wanted to believe it. It was easier to think he had become a player, rather than that he found a woman he vowed to love, honor, and cherish above all others. A woman who gave him something I never could. As I lose myself in thought, Jax appears at my side.
“How you holding up?”
“Look at them.”
“Pretty amazing, right?”
“That’s what real sou
lmates look like. She’s a tremendous little girl.”
“She’s been through a lot. This will be difficult… her and Bobby were so close.”
“Really?”
“He was like a different man when Rae was born. He was all the things he could never find it in his heart to be for Mad.” Rae stirs, curling closer to her daddy’s chest. “Let’s go into the living room… everyone’s gone. It’s just us, and I think there are a few things we need to discuss.” I take one last glance, my heart full as I memorize the planes of their faces, perfectly content.
“Did you call Rae’s mom? Where is she? No one talks about her.”
“Maddox didn’t tell you?”
“The last time I saw him, we had a fight. We haven’t really had a proper conversation since I got back. He doesn’t want to let me explain.”
“Can you blame him? You broke him, A.B. He was never the same after you left. None of us were. He breezed out of town at the first chance he got, and avoided this town like the plague.”
I slump into the couch, my body exhausted from the events of today. “Why did he come back?”
“He met Sam… Rae’s mom… on the circuit. They were just dating, having some fun, and then she fell pregnant. You know Maddox. He wanted to do the right thing and he didn’t want to be an absent father. He knew what it felt like growing up with a dad who wasn’t engaged in his life. So… they got married. Initially he brought her here and went back to the circuit. It was apparent even before Rae was born, Sam wasn’t going to be able to cope with living here by herself for any length of time to let him travel and pursue his dreams.”
“Oh, my God. I had no idea.”