S1W27: “Gone”

© 2012 Phylicia Joannis

I watched with labored breathing as the Nurse tried to stabilize the Congressman. He was shaking violently and the edges of his mouth were foaming.

“What’s happening to him?” Dreadlock whispered. He was sitting against the wall, resting his leg. I shook my head and looked on with fear.

“He seems to be having some sort of seizure or something,” the Nurse replied, her voice raw with emotion. “There’s not much I can do. I have to keep him from choking.”

“We’ve got water!” I heard the melodious voice of the Old Woman. She and the Climber were walking back from the abandoned train.

“God bless you, child!” the Old Woman kissed my cheek. “We went through the subway cars, and we found some bottles of water and juice under the seats. It’s not much, and Lord knows who was drinkin’ it, but-”

“We’ll take it,” the Nurse grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Dreadlock. I grabbed a half full bottle of water for myself and began to choke the moment it touched my throat.

“Sip it slowly,” the Nurse cautioned me.  I took a small sip and let it slide slowly down my throat.

“We also found a first aid kit,” the Climber handed the Nurse a white box with a red cross on it. She took it gratefully and motioned for the Climber to lean forward.

“Can you keep his head elevated like this?” The Nurse guided the Climber’s hand behind the Congressman’s head as she carried the first aid kit to Dreadlock. She opened the box and found a small bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Thank God,” she said softly. She undid Dreadlock’s bandages and looked at the slimy wound.

Dreadlock watched her slowly as she stared at the wound. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” he frowned.

The Nurse nodded and gave him a couple of painkillers. He took them with the water and placed his hands on the ground.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Dreadlock nodded and the Nurse carefully poured the alcohol over the wound. Dreadlock screamed between clenched teeth and grabbed handfuls of dirt with his fists. The Nurse quickly wiped the infected wound clean and bandaged it with fresh gauze from the first aid kit.

“Hopefully the next time this bandage is uncovered will be at a hospital.” Dreadlock gave the Nurse a pained look. The Nurse bit her lip and sighed. “They’re going to have to give you a shot at the hospital. I hope you aren’t afraid of needles.”

“Needles,” I repeated the word quietly, my haggard voice returning. “Needles! He’s diabetic!”

The Nurse could barely hear my raspy voice. “What did you say?”

I pointed to the Congressman. “Him, he’s diabetic. His insulin is gone.”

The Nurse’s eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers. “Of course! I should have realized.” She saw the Climber with a juice bottle. “Give me that,” she grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap.

“There’s not much in it,” the Climber shrugged.

“Hopefully it’s enough,” the Nurse pressed the bottle against the Congressman’s lips and slowly poured. The Congressman shook in protest, but the Nurse persisted. We all watched for what seemed an eternity until the Congressman finally stopped shaking.

“Will he be okay?” I asked.

The Nurse nodded. “For now. He needs a hospital. We have to get out of here.” The Nurse looked around. “Where’s the other guy that was with you?”

I turned and looked towards the Climber and the Old Woman.

They both looked at one another.

“He said he would be right behind us,” the Old Woman frowned.

The Climber shook his head. “He’s gone.”