Stephen and Sharpies ~ Watty Awards 2012

Chapter Eighteen

    “What are you doing?” I am at Gretchen’s side, trying to keep her upright.

    “Going to see my daughter like you asked me to.” Her words are slurred and come out quiet.

    “You’re drunk.”

    “And…” She starts to slip from my grip. Her head rolls from side to side. I manage to get her to the nurse’s station.

    “Miss, this is Stephen’s mother. She and Abigail would like to see her now.” I smile a huge smile, hoping I had some sort of charm.

    “Well,” the nurse says hesitantly. “Okay I guess a few minutes would be fine.”

    Abigail hurries to her mother’s side and they follow the nurse down the hallway and into Stephen’s room. I can hear a door open and then shut quietly. The nurse comes back down the hallway. She stares me down and I go and sit back down and wait.

    Only fifteen minutes have gone by when Abigail walks out of the room, holding her mom up with all her might.

    “Are you okay?” I ask Abigail when I see that she is crying.

    She shakes her head.

    I take Gretchen and lead her to a chair. She sits down and within a few moments passes out. I go back to Abigail and ask, “What happened?”

    She shakes her head and then turns to me. She opens her mouth, but the words fall silent.

    “What?”

    “I know what happened Stephen.” She tries her best to say as much as she can in between sobs.

    “What?”

    Abigail takes a deep breath. “There were two guys she got a ride with. Um Kevin somethin’ and Gary, I can’t remember. She had talked to them before and they were nice to her. Then they started kissing her and they, they…” She couldn‘t finish; her sobs has engulfed her.

    I take Abigail into my arms and hug her. I manage to pick her up and walk over to Ma. I set her down next to Ma. I walk up to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone that is sitting there. The nurse tries to take it away, but I ignore her.

    “Hello, this is the emergency hotline, how may I direct your call?” The voice on the other end is a man’s. He has a high pitched and happy voice, too happy.

    “Police station, please.”

    “One moment please.” Music plays for a few moments and then another man answers the phone.

    “Hello, Police Station, Officer Blakely talking.”

    “Stephen Dooley didn’t run away. Two guys picked her up and something happened. I don’t know all the details, but she’s at the hospital right now.”

    “How can you be sure of this?” The background noise has subsided into mumbles from other officers.

    “She told her sister.”

    “What were the two men’s name?” The officer is tapping his pen against something hard, probably his desk.

    “Kevin and Gary, I don’t know their last names.” I don’t wait for his response, I hang up. I set the phone back on the receiver and sit back down.

    Time passes and I begin to think about taking out the next letter when two officers walk into the ER. I freeze; they are the same two from yesterday morning. They don’t notice me, yet. Instead of walking over to me, they make their way to the nurse’s station.