Yellow Lines

Chapter 30 - Strength

The ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later and I wasn't sure if I felt a pulse the last time I checked. Two guys entered the house with a stretcher and placed it on the floor beside mom. No matter how hard I tried, my mind couldn't gather what happened between my arrival and finding her on the floor. I could barely see through my blurred vision and worse yet, my hand felt numb from continuously holding her in my arms.

When one of the paramedics asked for space, I shifted enough for them to tend to her. No way I was going to let her go. No way!

"We need to check her. And for us to put her on the stretcher we would need you to comply with us, ma'am."

"This is my momma," I wept. "I can't lose her."

"I know, but you need to let us do our job. We are pressed for time."

Hesitantly, I released her, swallowing an egg in my throat. When the man took her from me, not once did I take my eyes off of her. But as I lifted slowly to my feet, a whoosh of blood left my brain, making me dizzy. I staggered back, holding onto the wall for strength as a headache sliced through my forehead.

The guy standing near the door eyed me. "Are you okay?"

I waved him off, taking deep breaths. "Yeah, just... just focus on my mom." All I needed them to do was save her. I was the least of their problems. If anything happened to her I might as well be dead—I might as well be in the same faith as her.

They buckled her in on the stretcher and as soon as I saw her dreary face, fluid leaked unto my lip. Crap. Not now. I didn't need this now. I fumbled and dug into my pocket for a tissue and patted my nose. Clear. No blood, thank God.

"Is she going to be fine?" I asked, tugging the arm of the guy who was on the right side of the hoisted stretcher. "Is she breathing?" She had to be. She had a heartbeat. That was all they needed to save her, right? When they continued along the hallway and into the living room, I tugged him again. "Is she? Answer me, please..." I couldn't dare lose her. Not now. Not after all of this. I came home to get better, not worse. She was supposed to be my rock—my inspiration. How was I to live after this?

"Bear with us," said the same guy who asked if I was fine earlier.

"Y'all haven't said anything since. I... I-I just need to know." Mom was on the stretcher lifeless. Not even her chest fluttered and that scared the heck out of me. I needed to know. And on top of the worry and the ache I felt in my throat for holding everything in, my head thrummed as if someone had put a jackhammer to it.

The guys carried her to the vehicle and loaded her in. I quickly grabbed my purse and locked the door before hopping into the ambulance. Everything reminded me of Cara all over again. I couldn't handle this. Clutching my momma's hand, I squeezed it, hoping by some miracle she would move—that she would squeeze me back and say she was fine—but it felt cold and lifeless.

One of the guys eyed me with genuine sadness. "We understand that this is a difficult time for you, but we would try our best with her."

"I just want to know if she's okay, that's all." I sucked in a deep breath, willing myself to not cry. "Her hands feel so vacant. I... I don't know what happened or... or how long she'd been like this. I just came in from Miami and found her on the floor. God..." I shook my head. If the flights hadn't delayed, I would have been able to stop it. Stupid flight. Stupid, stupid flight.

"We found a heartbeat but it is faint. The quicker we move, the better we would be able to give you an answer. Okay?"

I nodded. I wasn't prepared to bury my mother six months apart from my father. She was all I had left. No one else cared about me like she did. Wiping the tears with my free hand, I prayed to God that he would grant her more time on this earth with me. I kissed my mother's knuckles and said Amen.