"This is standard. You should get treatment. If you don't, and an injury occurs, it won't stand in court." He explained what they were about to do to her. She lifted her arms to his shoulders. They carried her to the waiting stretcher.
"Can't you loosen this? I feel stiff," she pointed to her chin.
"Only a little," a female EMT said. "We have to do this. It's necessary. If you're injured, we want everything to stay in place."
"I feel like I can't breathe. I feel so helpless!" she wailed.
"That's what everyone says," the young EMT said.
"Will someone come with me and talk to me?" she pleaded. "Sherri! Follow me to the hospital!" she begged.
"Debbie! They're waiting on you hand and foot!" she laughed. "Bet you never thought you'd attract such attention!"
Sherri held up a red hard hat, as she unloaded Debbie's car.
"Debbie! Is this yours?"
"Yes," she answered faintly from the stretcher, fondly recalling her temporary job as a secretary on a construction site.
Like dying and going to heaven, she surrendered her earthly existence. Losing control...her pocketbook...her calendar...her black knapsack with the novel she was writing inside of it...the red hard hat. A name, a number. Vital statistics. Today's date. The President. She had to give up the controls and trust everyone to take care of her things, to see to her comfort.
In the quickly moving van, she talked to the two EMT workers who sat in back with her, one male and one female. They were volunteers who each had real jobs. One had a wife.
"You're not even a woman to me," he said. "Just a person."
"No one's ever said that to me before," she said. "Where are we?"
All she could see was the silver ceiling of the ambulance. Finally, the moving vehicle became soothing, as she lay, unmoving, a mummy. She closed her eyes and kept talking.
"Of course, we'd ride in the back with you. We wouldn't leave you here alone," said a woman's kind voice.
She asked them about the earlier emergency on Route 2.
"We can find out," the male voice in the driver's seat said. Something beeped. "A fire at the casino."
A radio dispatcher fuzzily announced an emergency on Colonel Ledyard Highway.
"We're not going there," the driver said, to her relief.
At once, the vehicle stopped. "See, it only took twenty minutes."
"You're taking me out?"
As she slid out of the doors, the sky was a dark blue above her. The summer evening had turned to night.
"Of course. We're not going to leave you here alone."
"You get to go through the privileged entrance. Bet you never thought you'd do that," the male voice continued.
She stared at the old ceiling above her. "This is the plaster room. We're going to put you in a plaster cast."
"No. I never want to see you guys again! Can this come off now?"
"No. Not until the doctor sees you," a young nurse said firmly. She untied the wrappings around Debbie's waist. "I'm being nice."
"Thank you," Debbie said softly.
"Your sister's here," the young nurse informed her.
Other nurses came. "When was your last menstrual period?" "Three or four weeks ago." "Any chance you're pregnant?" "No...no chance at all..."
She lay on the stiff white stretcher. The ties had been loosened. She folded her hands on her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to tell herself: it will be over soon. It will be over soon. Just relax and close your eyes. The bandages will come off sometime soon. The nurse left. After squeezing the female EMT's hand a few times, she was left alone.
Was God himself here? She couldn't feel His presence. For a moment, she felt as Christ himself must have felt on the Cross. My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me? But he knew that His agony would soon end and that all of his suffering was intended for a higher purpose.
And it was the third hour, and they crucified Him.
And with Him, they crucify two thieves; the one on his right hand,
and the other on his left.
And when the sixth hour was come,
there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour.
And, at the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?
Which, being interpreted,
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
(Gospel of Mark 15: 25, 27, 33-34.)
Her mother came. Debbie wanted her to stay. She was unusually calm. Normally, she didn't want anyone around her. Living at home with her parents, she was surrounded by people all of the time. Her mother said she had gotten a headache around the time her accident had occurred.
"We were five minutes away..." she heard Sherri whisper to her mother in the parking lot. Sherri had been calling the tourism office where Debbie worked all day, communicating between her and Family Services, where she was supposed to go tonight for her first appointment with a psychiatrist. "You've been angry for too long," Sherri was concerned about Debbie's ever present anger and she wanted to help her sister. But Debbie didn't want to go. She didn't want to say bad things about her family to a stranger. Her mother drove her quietly home.
