Five: Fire In Ze Belly!
* * *
Blackness became gray in time, and with it there were voices, far away. These were jumbled, unclear, like static on the radio.
Then a sharp pang hit her nostrils.
Jill gasped, tensing in terror.
"Hold still," someone said. "It's all right, Miss."
She looked up, the face above her becoming clear, and fainted dead away again.
#
Three times later, her nose burning from the smelling salts, the blessed escape of unconsciousness no longer came. She cried out, pulling back.
Ruthie, that strange little girl in the camouflage outfit, was standing beside her on the left, and on the right was him.
That man.
The weirdo.
He was wearing a full fireman's outfit, and she remembered Ruthie saying something about him being a fireman. He even had on his helmet.
"What's going on?" Jill demanded.
"You passed out," Ruthie informed her. "It's a good thing I was here and could call for help. Who knows what might have happened? Do you have a tumor or something?"
Jill shook her head. Ben stared at her, his jaw hanging a bit loose in a blank smile.
"Hi," he said.
Jill backed a little further away. She saw that behind him were some of the students in her adult dance class. Maybe if she screamed, they would come and rescue her.
"Hey," Ben said, "it's all right. I'm a professional fireman. I can do CPR."
"And mouth-to-mouth," Ruthie added, winking at her.
Okay, so it was FOUR times later that unconsciousness stopped coming.
#
They got her up and into a chair just as Mrs. Baryshnikov came in.
"What iz zees?" Mrs. Baryshnikov exclaimed. "I have heard through my contacts zat my dance inztruktor iz eell!" She hurried to Jill. "What iz eet, my deer?"
Jill looked at her, then at Ruthie and Ben. What could she say? The girl was an enrolled student; the man appeared to actually be a fireman. She had passed out, and the girl had called for help.
She had nothing.
"Sorry," she told Mrs. Baryshnikov. "I just fainted."
Mrs. Baryshnikov looked at Ruthie. "And zees one? Zees one is your stoodent?"
"I'm here to learn to dance for the USO," said Ruthie.
"Aha!" cried Mrs. Baryshnikov. "Zees one has fire in zee belly! I can see! Zen you have come to ze right place, my deer! Jill eez brilliyant as ze instructor of ze dance, yes? And who is zees handzome fireman?"
"I'm Ben," Ben said. "I rescue people."
"Zen eet ees a pleasure to meet you, fireman Ben! Welcome to ze stoodio!
Using Mrs. Baryshnikov's enthusiasm as a cover, Jill had risen from the chair and begun to back away. She was almost at the door in the rear of the studio now, after which there was the back door of the building, and then she would run, and run, and never look back at Glenoak, California.
Only Ruthie saw her first.
"Hey!" she called. "Where are you going?"
Jill froze like a deer in the headlights.
"Uh .... I just remembered that I have an appointment," she managed. "Somewhere else."
"Oh, you can't go," Ruthie said.
"Huh?"
"It's a medical thing. You passed out, and so Ben has to check you out and make sure you're okay. Isn't that right, Ben?"
Ben looked at her for a moment.
"Oh ... yeah," he managed. "I need to check your pulse and blood pressure and get your phone number and find out if you have any plans for dinner."
"What?"
Ben blinked, said nothing.
"It's standard procedure," Ruthie said. "In case you die or something, we -- that is the fire department -- need to be able to call you."
Ben nodded. Jill looked to Mrs. Baryshnikov for help, her eyes pleading. But Mrs. Baryshnikov suddenly seemed to only have eyes for Ben.
"Oooo! Zees one ees handzome! Look at hees chest!"
Ruthie smiled, her gaze still directed at Jill.
"Oh, yeah," she said, winking again. "He's got a great chest. Show Jill your chest, Ben."
This Ben did, in grand fashion.
Now it was Mrs. Baryshnikov's turn to faint.
* * *
Blackness became gray in time, and with it there were voices, far away. These were jumbled, unclear, like static on the radio.
Then a sharp pang hit her nostrils.
Jill gasped, tensing in terror.
"Hold still," someone said. "It's all right, Miss."
She looked up, the face above her becoming clear, and fainted dead away again.
#
Three times later, her nose burning from the smelling salts, the blessed escape of unconsciousness no longer came. She cried out, pulling back.
Ruthie, that strange little girl in the camouflage outfit, was standing beside her on the left, and on the right was him.
That man.
The weirdo.
He was wearing a full fireman's outfit, and she remembered Ruthie saying something about him being a fireman. He even had on his helmet.
"What's going on?" Jill demanded.
"You passed out," Ruthie informed her. "It's a good thing I was here and could call for help. Who knows what might have happened? Do you have a tumor or something?"
Jill shook her head. Ben stared at her, his jaw hanging a bit loose in a blank smile.
"Hi," he said.
Jill backed a little further away. She saw that behind him were some of the students in her adult dance class. Maybe if she screamed, they would come and rescue her.
"Hey," Ben said, "it's all right. I'm a professional fireman. I can do CPR."
"And mouth-to-mouth," Ruthie added, winking at her.
Okay, so it was FOUR times later that unconsciousness stopped coming.
#
They got her up and into a chair just as Mrs. Baryshnikov came in.
"What iz zees?" Mrs. Baryshnikov exclaimed. "I have heard through my contacts zat my dance inztruktor iz eell!" She hurried to Jill. "What iz eet, my deer?"
Jill looked at her, then at Ruthie and Ben. What could she say? The girl was an enrolled student; the man appeared to actually be a fireman. She had passed out, and the girl had called for help.
She had nothing.
"Sorry," she told Mrs. Baryshnikov. "I just fainted."
Mrs. Baryshnikov looked at Ruthie. "And zees one? Zees one is your stoodent?"
"I'm here to learn to dance for the USO," said Ruthie.
"Aha!" cried Mrs. Baryshnikov. "Zees one has fire in zee belly! I can see! Zen you have come to ze right place, my deer! Jill eez brilliyant as ze instructor of ze dance, yes? And who is zees handzome fireman?"
"I'm Ben," Ben said. "I rescue people."
"Zen eet ees a pleasure to meet you, fireman Ben! Welcome to ze stoodio!
Using Mrs. Baryshnikov's enthusiasm as a cover, Jill had risen from the chair and begun to back away. She was almost at the door in the rear of the studio now, after which there was the back door of the building, and then she would run, and run, and never look back at Glenoak, California.
Only Ruthie saw her first.
"Hey!" she called. "Where are you going?"
Jill froze like a deer in the headlights.
"Uh .... I just remembered that I have an appointment," she managed. "Somewhere else."
"Oh, you can't go," Ruthie said.
"Huh?"
"It's a medical thing. You passed out, and so Ben has to check you out and make sure you're okay. Isn't that right, Ben?"
Ben looked at her for a moment.
"Oh ... yeah," he managed. "I need to check your pulse and blood pressure and get your phone number and find out if you have any plans for dinner."
"What?"
Ben blinked, said nothing.
"It's standard procedure," Ruthie said. "In case you die or something, we -- that is the fire department -- need to be able to call you."
Ben nodded. Jill looked to Mrs. Baryshnikov for help, her eyes pleading. But Mrs. Baryshnikov suddenly seemed to only have eyes for Ben.
"Oooo! Zees one ees handzome! Look at hees chest!"
Ruthie smiled, her gaze still directed at Jill.
"Oh, yeah," she said, winking again. "He's got a great chest. Show Jill your chest, Ben."
This Ben did, in grand fashion.
Now it was Mrs. Baryshnikov's turn to faint.