Falling

Twenty Six (Hospital)

"Sam...Sam...Stay with me Sam!" My brain is wobbling with clashing thoughts.

The car lurches to a stop.

"Hospital!" Trip yells.

Mary's passenger seat gasps behind her weight shifting to the door, thumping into its cushioned leather wall.

Her feet are flapping against the sidewalk's hard surface as she races to the hospital's emergency room door.

The car door on my side flies open and arms reach for Sam's body, sliding him onto a little bed perched above metal legs and rollers for feet.

Hot sun light reaches into the other side where Tobys body is being loaded onto another little rolling bed.

Running...Running! ...Through whishing glass doors!

Mary and I follow blue backs into a large room. Glass doors fold closed behind us.

We come to a sudden stop. Our feet slide against a slippery floor.

A white stream of sun opens like a bridge and sends our eyes clamoring for help.

Blue clothed backs disappear through another set of whishing doors.

A woman steps out from behind a long desk, as we try to follow the moving beds.

She raises one hand like a policeman directing traffic at a busy intersection.

"You'll have to stay here. You can't go into the emergency area," she explains.

Her warm hand settles among my fingers. She reaches for Mary and leads us to some metal chairs standing in neat rows.

There's a scattering of single people and families resting in some of the chairs. The pitter patter of little feet mix with twittering giggles of little children playing tag around their mothers.

"When can we see them?" I ask, pleading with my teary eyes.

"We'll be calling you." The nurse returns to her station at the desk.

I feel the weight of Mary's head on my shoulder. Her sobbing muffled against my blouse.

"Why...Why?" Her words smothering against cloth.

Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I feel the hard chair back brace against my spine. My right arm is wrapped around Mary's shuttering shoulders.

It seems like seconds are twisting their way into hours. The black hands on the wall clock appear to be frozen in place. There's a to and fro bustling of white and blue clad bodies from behind the desk into the mysterious room where bodies on little rolling beds disappear.

I look up and see Trip making his way through the doors and stoping behind us.

"There be any word?" He asks.

His words must have rung some hidden bell. A tall man, wearing a long white coat, moves into our view and walks up to where we are sitting.

"Are you Sam's family?" He asks.

"He doesn't have any family here. Maybe in the States," I reply.

Mary lifts her head off my shoulder.

"He be work'n with me at Graces Kitchen. We be his family here," Mary whispers through tears dripping over her black cheeks.

"Would you know how we can get in touch with any family?" The tall man insists, his brown cheeks drawn tight under green eyes.

"Well...Toby's family...Yes. But, not Sam," Mary replies.

"When can we see them?" My words plead behind tear-filled eyes.