Book Read Free

Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

Page 3

by Laurie Larsen


  “They’re going to take care of your daddy. Don’t you worry about that. They’re trained to help in emergencies, and they’re going to take him to the hospital.”

  He stared at her for a second, ignored her outstretched hand, and jumped out of the car, landing on his feet on the gravel. He ran to the stretcher and reached up to put his hands on his dad. “Daddy! Daddy! What’s wrong?”

  Pain tore through Leslie like a hand squeezing her heart. The EMTs were busy taking the man’s vitals and inserting an IV in his arm. They were surely aware of the little tyke desperately trying to get his dad’s attention, but the man was in no condition to respond. Instinct took over. She picked up the child and patted his back, murmuring sounds of comfort in his ear. He cried and pulled and twisted, but eventually wore himself out and went limp in her arms.

  The men loaded the patient, strapped to the stretcher, into the ambulance and she moved over to the open back door. One of the EMTs motioned her up. “You can ride in here. Bring the boy.”

  She paused, panic starting to bubble in her throat. “I’m not family. I don’t know these people. I happened to be driving by.”

  The EMT shrugged. “Leave the boy in the ambulance then.”

  She looked into the terrified eyes of the boy in her arms and knew, more clearly than anything, she couldn’t just shove him into the ambulance, close the door and drive away. Although she was a complete stranger, he had settled into her arms and now shifted his eyes from his dad in the truck to her face.

  “Do you want me to come with you to the hospital?”

  His nod held no hesitation.

  She called to the EMT, “I’ll come along with you and sit with the boy. Should I leave my car here?”

  He nodded and grabbed a couple red flags from a shelf behind him. “Put these in each front windshield, then lock both the cars.”

  He tossed the flags. She caught them and hurried to the task. Done, she clambered into the back of the emergency vehicle, still holding tight to the boy. They settled onto a bench lining the side. In her silence, she marveled over the uncharacteristic position she found herself in. Had she ever put herself on the line to help strangers in need, in such a personal way? She couldn’t think of one other time.

  One of the EMTs stayed in the back while the other dashed to the driver’s seat, turned on the wailing sirens and took off, the truck bouncing over the rough shoulder terrain before settling into a swift smooth ride on the highway.

  “What do you think is wrong with him?” She looked at the medical tech, a kid with broad shoulders, dark hair and a thin layer of stubble above his lip. Funny now that she’d reached a certain age, she thought of people in their twenties and thirties as “kids.”

  He was holding a clipboard and a pen, hovering over the patient and occasionally marking on a sheet of paper. Although the man was no longer convulsing, he had still not regained consciousness. “Some sort of convulsion – a seizure, maybe? Is he epileptic?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The young man nodded and went back to his work. Leslie turned to the boy on her lap, his face nestled into her neck. “Don’t you worry, they’re going to take good care of your daddy, okay?”

  He nodded, his head pressed into her neck.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  No movement.

  “My name’s Leslie. I’m a teacher.” From the size of him she’d guess him to be about seven, almost the age of the kids she taught every day. The coincidence of the situation made her wonder fleetingly if God’s hand was at work here. This family obviously needed a helper, and it was her – someone well equipped to work with kids this age – that happened by at the right moment. She had no idea how this adventure would turn out, but she would stick with it and see it through. If this family needed her … if God needed her here, the least she could do was serve.

  “What grade are you in?”

  His muffled voice came, “Second.”

  “What’s your teacher’s name?”

  “Mrs. …” something that sounded like Radcliffe, but Leslie couldn’t be sure.

  “Well, my last name is Malone. If you’d like to call me Mrs. Malone, that’s fine, or if you’re comfortable with Leslie, that’s fine too.”

  There was a slight hesitation, then a nodding of his head.

  “And what should I call you?”

  Again, a pause, and then he pushed back and looked up in her face. “Deakon.”

  Leslie smiled. Progress. “So nice to meet you, Deakon. And what is your dad’s name?”

  “Norman.”

  Leslie nodded. “Okay, well, you and I will help these guys do whatever they can to help your dad recover. Has this kind of thing ever happened to him before?”

  He nodded. “There’s a note in his wallet.”

  “A note?”

  “Yeah. In case it happens, it tells about what is wrong with him.”

  “Oh Deakon, thank you so much for telling me that. That’s going to really help your daddy.” She raised her voice to attract the attention of the EMT. She noticed a nametag pinned to his shirt for the first time that read, “Joe Leon.”

  “Joe, check his wallet. Deakon here told me there’s a note in there about his condition.”

  Joe nodded and shifted Norman so he could pull the wallet out from his back pocket. Shuffling through it, he found a small piece of folded paper and scanned it quickly. “It’s an abnormality of the veins in his brain that can cause a seizure when he’s undermedicated. He takes the anticonvulsive, Dilantin. Best to get him some intravenous Dilantin to revive him.”

  Leslie looked down at Deakon with a reassuring smile. “See? You were a huge help! Now they know exactly what to do to help your daddy.”

  The little boy gave a small, satisfied smile.

  “I don’t have any liquid Dilantin onboard but I’ll call the ER and tell them to have it on hand. I’ve initiated an IV so they can administer it as soon as we get there. We’re about 3 minutes away.” He picked up a phone from a metal suitcase and made the call.

  When they reached the hospital parking lot, Norman moaned. His eyes darted desperately until they landed on Deakon. “Buddy.”

  Deakon yelled, “Daddy!” and jumped off Leslie’s lap and hopped to his side. She reached out to guide him by the hips. The ride into the parking lot was bumpy. The last thing the little guy needed now was a bump to the head from losing his balance.

  Deakon launched himself onto his dad’s chest. Joe gave some cautionary noises but Norman waved his hand, the IV tubes trailing as he made a dismissive gesture. Then he settled both arms around his son. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.”

  The boy shook his head and sobbed openly.

  Joe leaned over the duo and lifted his clipboard. “Welcome back. I have some questions for you. Your name?”

  Norman took a deep breath, and holding tight to his son, he replied, “Norman Foster.”

  “Your address?”

  Norman provided it.

  “What year is it?”

  An odd question, Leslie thought, but Norman didn’t bat an eye as he gave the current year, then continued to respond with the state they were in, the day of the week and even the President of the country. Satisfied, Joe put the clipboard away and began to prepare for moving Norman into the ER.

  “Buddy, stay close by me and watch out for cars in the parking lot, okay?”

  Leslie maneuvered closer to the stretcher. “Norman, I’d be glad to help occupy Deakon until you’re more able.”

  He turned his head, his look of confusion making it clear he hadn’t known of her presence before now.

  “I’m Leslie Malone. I was driving by on the highway when you went into a seizure. I stopped and called 9-1-1.”

  His eyes scanned her face and the concerned lines between his eyebrows eased. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough. Although I’ve had seizures occasionally for the last few years, they’re always nocturnal. You don’t know how weird it is
to go to bed one night, and wake up with a bunch of men dressed in EMT uniforms in your room. Or wake up in an ambulance and wonder how the hell you got there. It’s pretty disconcerting.”

  She nodded. “I can imagine.”

  “But this … this puts a whole new spin on it. Going into a seizure while driving? I could’ve killed myself and my son. This has never happened before.” He shook his head and let his eyes roll to the ceiling of the vehicle.

  “I’m glad it worked out all right. You’re going to be fine, Norman.”

  “This time, yeah. But how can I put Deakon in a car with me ever again? I can’t control these things. They come on out of the blue – not very often, mind you. But I had no idea it was going to happen today.”

  The vehicle stopped and she heard the slam of the driver’s door. Soon, the back door swung open and Joe’s partner jumped up into the truck, the two of them working together to get Norman out.

  “Don’t worry about Deakon. I’ll stay with him in the waiting room until they’re ready for him to come back and visit you.”

  He locked eyes with her as they carried him backwards out of the vehicle, and brushed his hand against hers as he passed. What was happening to Norman must feel totally out of control. Any man would have trouble dealing with that. Leslie knew he was hesitant to entrust his precious son with a stranger off the street, literally, but she could help and that seemed to be what she was supposed to do right now. The purpose of her being here, of all places, at this time.

  “We’ll be right in the waiting room, don’t worry.”

  She caught his slight nod as they hustled him toward the building. She and Deakon hopped out of the vehicle and followed. Inside the ER, she found a small waiting room with a TV and a basket of toys and books in the corner. At first, Deakon sat quietly on a nearby chair.

  “Your dad was talking and awake. He’s going to be fine. The doctors are going to put some medicine into his arm which will make him better.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  It dawned on her there might be some relatives who needed a phone call about this unexpected detour. “Deakon, what’s your home phone number? Should I call your mommy and let her know you’re here?”

  Deakon glanced up at her and shook his head, his lower lip poking out. “I don’t have a mommy.”

  Again Leslie’s heart wrenched. She had no idea what this boy had been through, but she already knew it was more than any child should have to endure in seven short years. She forced some peppy optimism into her voice. “Okay, how about a grandma or grandpa? A close friend of your dad’s maybe?”

  “I have a grandma and grandpa but I don’t know their number.”

  “Okay, sweetie, we’ll see if your dad wants me to call them later. Meanwhile, do you want to watch TV or play with toys? Do you want me to read you a book maybe?”

  He forced his attention to a small stack of books and slid off his chair to study his choices. He picked up a couple, put a few aside, then returned with four short books in his hand, all comic book adaptations – Xmen, Superman, Batman. She patted her lap and he crawled up. She opened the first cover and they both became enthralled in action and adventure.

  Thirty minutes passed and a nurse approached them. “You can come back and see Mr. Foster now if you’d like.”

  Deakon was busy on the floor by now, coloring in a Superman coloring book, bright strokes of red and blue. At the nurse’s words, he bounced in place and heaved himself up, his face lit up with a happy smile. He trotted after the nurse, Leslie following along behind.

  “Want to push the big round button on the wall?”

  Deakon followed the direction the nurse was pointing and pushed his whole palm into it. The double doors whooshed open. Another grin.

  Walking behind the nurse, Leslie peeked into each curtained-off makeshift room. So many people receiving care – so many people taking an unexpected pit stop in their day. You can plan and plan, but you are never in control. That’s the way life is.

  When they reached Norman Foster’s cubicle, Deakon screeched his pleasure and broke into a sprint. He tried to jump up onto the hospital bed, but it sat too high, so instead he jumped onto the seat of the guest chair beside the bed, leaned over and laid the entire top half of his body over his dad. Leslie watched father and son, Norman’s eyes squeezed shut, his arms wrapped around the little boy.

  She looked away, not only because of the prick of tears threatening her eyes, but at the realization that she was an intruder on a poignant family moment. She lingered outside the curtain, her back to the family reunion, but close enough that if they needed her, she would hear. Muffled sounds of joy floated from the room. Then, an uncertain, “Lisa? No, Leslie?”

  She circled around and leaned into the room.

  “I’m sorry, it’s Leslie, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Leslie Malone.”

  “Please, come in.”

  Leslie took the few steps into the tight space. Deakon now sat on the hospital bed, squeezed up tight against his dad, his legs dangling off the side. “Deakon, looks like your dad’s good as new, huh?”

  He beamed at her, grabbed his dad’s hand and patted it. “Yep.”

  She grinned at him.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Leslie. If you weren’t driving on that highway at that precise moment ….” He shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened.”

  “You’re safe and sound, both of you. That’s all that matters.”

  “The doctor came in. They’re going to try me on a stronger anti-convulsive for a few months. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to drive during the trial period. But if I don’t have another waking seizure, I’ll be back in the saddle.”

  “That’s wonderful news!” Leslie inched into the space and put her hand on top of his where Deakon still grasped it.

  “We can make it work. I can’t imagine not driving, but I guess under the circumstances, it’s what’s safest for me, Deakon and the drivers around me.”

  “As Deakon and I were sitting out there, I was praying for a good outcome for you. I think I got the answer to my prayer.”

  “Actually, I think you were the answer to my prayer. Thanks for taking such good care of my boy. Now, I have one other favor to ask you.”

  Leslie nodded.

  “Somewhere, they’ve stashed my clothes. In the pocket of my pants is my cell phone. Could you find it and call someone for me? They won’t let me use a cell back here around all the machines.”

  “Oh, of course. Who is it?”

  “When you find the phone, go into the Contact list and look for Mom L. Could you call her, explain what happened and tell her Deak and I need her to come to the hospital right away?”

  “Sure. Be right back.” Leslie rustled under the hospital bed and found a plastic bag. Inside, she found folded clothes. Rummaging inside the pocket of a pair of blue jeans, she pulled out a phone, then left the cubby. Back through the double doors, she walked through the waiting room and outside.

  She located Mom L in the Contacts and placed the call. Foster was his last name. Could Mom L be his mother? Or possibly Deakon’s mother’s mom?

  “Hey.” The voice sounded like it knew what voice to be expecting. Time to throw her for a loop.

  “Hi, my name is Leslie Malone, and I’m on Norman Foster’s cell phone.”

  “Oh.”

  “Norman asked me to call you. Please don’t be alarmed – everything is okay, but we’re at the hospital.”

  Leslie heard a gasping sound.

  “Norman had a seizure while driving.”

  “A seizure! While driving?”

  “Yes. He explained that he has a seizure disorder, but up to this point, they’ve only been nocturnal. For some reason, this one was waking.”

  “Is Deakon there?”

  “Yes, Deakon is with his dad here in the ER and he’s perfectly fine. Please don’t worry. But Norman asked that you come right away. They took his driver’s li
cense away and they need a ride.”

  “Absolutely. So, are you a nurse?”

  “No. I happened to be driving by when Norman’s car started to weave. He pulled over to the shoulder before his seizure, but he was unconscious so I called 9-1-1.”

  There was a pause and a slow outtake of breath. “You’re an angel.”

  Leslie chuckled. “Not at all.”

  “Do you believe in God?”

  “Oh, yes of course.”

  “You were there for my grandson. You kept him safe. You were part of God’s plan and I thank you for being there.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t do much except read Deakon a few stories. But I was happy to do it.”

  “I’m going to head over there right now. Could you stick around? I’d love to meet you.”

  “Sure.”

  They ended the call and Leslie headed back into the hospital and down the hall to the cubicle. An angel, her? She shook her head, amused. But could it be she’d played a part in God’s plan for the Fosters today? So many disastrous things could’ve happened if she hadn’t been there to watch out for Norman, for Deakon.

  But of course, if she hadn’t called 9-1-1, if she hadn’t occupied Deakon, someone else would’ve. No supernatural miracles here, just what good people do for each other.

  When she reached Norman and Deakon, she handed the phone back. “Mission accomplished. She’s on her way. She asked me to stick around so she could meet me.”

  Norman smiled. “She’s been a huge part of Deakon’s life. Not just a grandmother, but a stand-in mother.” He gazed fondly at his son, now lying beside him on the hospital bed. “His mom died delivering him. She never even got to meet the little guy.”

  “How horrible.”

  “Yeah. But you know when you’ve got a little one depending on you, you have to keep going. One foot after another, even if what you really want to do is curl up in a ball.”

  Gazing at the two, Leslie thought back over the last few months. Tim’s mid-life crisis, his affair that ended their marriage. Yes, those were tough to deal with. But this man … look what he’d dealt with in the last seven years. How had he done it, in the face of such sorrow?

  One foot after another. Keep moving forward. A motto for herself to live by, born today.

 

‹ Prev