Cady's heart jumped as she heard the shattering glass, and she shot up in bed. "Daddy?" she called with worried trepidation.
Her call was met by pregnant silence.
She cautiously got out of bed and walked out of her room and stood tentatively in the hallway with her hand against the wall looking toward the living room and the light coming from the kitchen. She called again in a quavering voice, "Daddy?"
She waited briefly for him to answer and when he didn't respond, she continued to the entryway of the kitchen where she was suddenly gripped with horror at what she saw. So gripped was she, that she couldn't move at first, and started to tremble slightly, and her heart pounded until she could hear it in her head. Roger was lying face down on the floor with his mouth slightly open and his eyes were open but vacant. She ran to him through the broken glass on the floor in sheer panic. She was so numbed by terror that she did not feel the shards cut her feet. She fell to the ground and put her hands on his shoulders and tried to rock him awake. She would alternate rocking motions with screams of "Daddy!" as loud as she could. Roger did not respond. She stood up, shaking and out of breath, and her eyes darted around the room like a desperate animal trying to find a way out of a trap. The blood from her feet mingled with the water from the broken glasses on the floor.
What could she do? The Martins were gone. She couldn't try to find anyone else and leave her Daddy alone. She put her hand to her mouth and frantically tried to figure out what to do. After a few moments, her head cleared enough to remember that the phone had a sticker with "Ambulance Service" on it. She pulled up a chair and stood on it and took the receiver off the rotary phone and dialed the number on the sticker. She had to dial it twice because her finger slipped out of the dial the first time. The phone rang several times. She was shaking and repeatedly looking back at Roger on the floor. He hadn't moved at all since the moment she discovered him.
Finally, a man on the other end said, "Ambulance Service."
Rapidly and breathlessly Cady said, "My daddy is sick! He needs to go to the hospital!"
"Now calm down, little one," the man said. "What's your address?"
She tugged at her hair with tears running down her face, searching her memory for her address, which normally, she knew like the back of her hand. "Um…I…It's…It's 29 Richmond Ave," she said.
"Okay, Sweetie. My partner and I will be there in a few minutes. You just sit tight," the man said in a thick Texas accent. He hung up.
She hung up the phone and jumped down from the chair, still numbed to the pain in her feet, and hurried over to Roger on the floor. She draped her arms and upper body over his back while he lay motionless. She pressed her cheek against his back and sobbed and tried to soothe an unresponsive Roger. "Daddy, the ambulance is coming. I'm here….They're going to take you to the hospital and you'll be all better," she urged. Roger didn't move.
Time seemed to lag to a crawl to Cady. It felt like forever for the ambulance to get there. She alternated attempts at waking him with sitting back and rocking to soothe herself.
Eventually, there was an official sounding knock on the Parsons' front door. She got up from the floor with Roger and said, "They're here, Daddy. It's going to be okay," she reassured. She hurried through the living room to the front door and opened it.
Two men in hats with the name of the ambulance service, thick black jackets, white shirts, and black pants stood outside. They had a stretcher and one looked down at Cady and said, "Where's your Daddy?" She was clearly in shock and silently pointed to the kitchen. The men went into the kitchen and she walked close behind. She sat down a few feet away from the men and Roger with her back against the kitchen cabinets. She had her knees up with her chin rested on them and her arms around her legs. Her eyes were dazed and frantic at the same time. The voices of the men were muffled by the pounding of her heart and her own breathing.
The men worked together to turn Roger over and one of the men put his ear against Roger's chest. He looked up at the other man after listening for a bit and shook his head slightly. The other man turned to Cady, and seeing her feet, and the blood all over the kitchen floor and trailed into the living room, he asked, "Are you hurt, Sweetie?" He got up and walked toward her and kneeled next to her to look at her.
She looked at her feet and saw the blood on and around them. "I…I…don't know," she replied.
Well, let me take you in the living room and I'll have a look at those feet. I think you stepped in this glass, Sweetie," he replied in a friendly tone. He picked her up, and she put her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he carried her into the living room and put her on the couch next to an end table. He turned on the light and looked at her feet. "I'm going to run out to the ambulance and get our first aid kit, okay?"
"Is my daddy going to be alright?" she asked.
The man hesitated and said, "My partner is working on your daddy. I'm going to take care of you. I'll be right back. You stay here, okay?"
She nodded, still looking dazed.
It didn't take long and the man was back with his first aid kit. He took out some gauze and loosely wrapped both of her feet. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Okay. You stay right here and I'm going to go help my partner with your daddy. Then I'll be back for you, okay?"
She nodded.
He went back into the kitchen and helped his partner put Roger on the stretcher. They put a blanket over him up to his chin and strapped him on the stretcher. One man guided the stretcher in the front while the other pushed from the back, and as they moved through the living room, the man that took care of Cady said, "We're going to put him in the back of the ambulance and when we're done, I'm going to come back for you and you can ride up front with us, Sweetie."
Cady just stared at the man without saying a word and watched them wheel her father out to the ambulance, voice-choked and tears running down her face. The man who took care of her came back quickly and picked her up off the couch and carried her through the front door, careful to turn the key to the lock on his way out.
When he got to the ambulance, the man helping Cady put her in the front seat. "Here ya go, Sweetie. You can sit between us." Cady was visibly shivering when he put her down. "Are you cold?" She looked at him as dazed as she had been, with a tear-streaked face. "Just a sec," he said. He went around to the back of the ambulance as the other man got in to drive. He came back with a blanket and put it behind her back and wrapped it around her. "How's that?" he asked, and he and the other man looked at her waiting for an answer. She just stared ahead, shook, and didn't say anything.
"She's in shock," the driver observed.
The other man nodded to the driver and sat down next to her and put his arm around her to steady her and keep her warm. "It's going to be okay. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.
She didn't respond but continued to tremble and stare with tears streaming down her face. The man's voice seemed distant to her, muffled and indistinct.
"It's okay. You can tell me on the way or tell the doctor at the hospital," he replied.
The driver asked as he backed out of the Parsons' driveway, "Are we going to Hermann?"
"Yes. That's the closest," the other man replied.
Cady said in a near whisper, "That's where my momma works."
"What's her name?" he asked.
"Cynthia Parsons," she replied quietly.
"Can you tell me your name, now?" he asked.
"Cady," she replied.
"That's a pretty name," he said. The driver pulled out and headed to the hospital. After they were on the road for about a minute, the man asked, "Can you tell me what happened, Cady?"
Still trembling and tears streaming, she shook her head and bit her lip. She could barely concentrate on the man's words, her mind was so clouded with anguish and fear; and, she really had no idea what had happened.
He put his arm around her and held her close to keep her warm. "How old are you?"
She said in a quiet voice, staring at the road ahead, "Seven."
"Oh, my… Seven. First grade?" he asked.
She nodded slowly.
"I've got a boy your age," the man noted, trying to keep her alert but calm.
Cady's mind reeled and there was a sense of unreality around her. It felt like a horrible dream. Her hands were numb, her heart pounded, and she felt light-headed and her face flushed. She felt like she wasn't in her own body…that she had left it back at her house. The man kept talking to her but it sounded like muffled nonsense. Traffic and street lights made her flinch and the smell of the driver's cologne burned her nostrils.
It felt like one hundred years to Cady, but it wasn't that long before the ambulance reached Hermann Hospital. The man who was talking to Cady got out of the ambulance, leaned back into the ambulance and wrapped the blanket tighter around her and lifted her out of the vehicle. He carried her draped in both arms with her head resting on his shoulder. She kept staring straight ahead with glassy eyes. The driver got out and said, "I'll wait for you here," as his partner carried Cady into the hospital. The man looked over his shoulder and nodded back at the driver on his way inside with Cady.
The man brought Cady up to the nurse's station where Sally Tompkins was standing filling out paperwork. The man said to Sally, "I have a little girl here, who needs some medical attention."
Sally looked up and immediately recognized Cady. "Cady!" she exclaimed as she dropped her pen and put her hand out to touch her head. Cady flinched and pulled away. "What's the matter, Honey?" she asked in a compassionate voice.
"She called the ambulance service to get help for her daddy," the man replied.
"Roger?! What's happened to him?" she replied.
The man gave her a look, without saying anything that would disturb Cady. The look told Sally that Roger was already gone. She slid her hand through her hair and composed herself and looked at her room charts. Nancy Kearney walked up to the nurses' station. "What's going on? What's Cady doing here?" she asked.
Sally didn't answer her question but said, "Nancy, would you show this man to treatment room seven and keep Cady company while she waits for…" She looked at her clipboard. "Dr. Peterson."
"Sure, but…" Nancy said.
"Please, just do it. This man has work he has to get back to," Sally replied.
Nancy looked concerned and said, "Okay. Follow me," and she guided the man to the treatment room. A couple of minutes later, he returned to the nurses' station.
"What happened?" she asked.
"The girl called our service. When we got there, she let us in. We checked on her daddy, and he was dead on the kitchen floor when we got there. Her feet are all cut up from walking on broken glass. I'm sure that's just the beginning of her troubles. Poor little girl. I suppose you know her because you work with her mother," he said.
"How?…"
"She told me in the ambulance her mother works here. Is she a nurse?" he asked.
"Doctor," Sally replied.
"Well, she'll be in good hands, then. What should I do with her daddy? Take him to the mortuary?" the man asked.
"Bring him inside. An autopsy might be in order," Sally replied.
"Okay," the man replied. He walked out of the hospital to retrieve Roger's body.
"If I see one more Rice or Baylor letterman's jacket tonight, I just might scream. When are people going to realize that fanaticism, football, and alcohol don't mix?" said a voice that startled Sally from behind.
Sally recognized the voice immediately. It was Cynthia leaning on the counter writing some instructions in a patient's file.
"Hi, Sally. How's your evening?" Cynthia said, not looking up from her clipboard.
Sally stuttered, "Um….I….fine…I guess. Just a minute," she said and picked up the phone, her hands shaking. Cynthia made a perplexed look at Sally's seemingly odd behavior.
Sally paged, "Dr. Peterson, please come to treatment room seven. Dr. Peterson, please come to treatment room seven. Dr. Samuels, please come to the hospital lobby nurses' station. Dr. Samuels, please come to the hospital lobby nurses' station." Sally hung up the phone and straightened her hair, cleared her throat, and shuffled some papers.
"Are you alright?" Cynthia asked, completely oblivious to the situation.
"Cynthia…" Sally started, with some considerable nervousness in her voice.
Dr. Samuels appeared. "What is it, Sally?" Both he and Cynthia waited for her to answer.
The men from the ambulance pushed the gurney up to the nurses' station. "Do you want us to just take the body down to the morgue?" one of the men asked.
Sally, startled again, held out her hand to the men and said, "Just a minute," and she paused and her eyes moved like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
Cynthia and Dr. Samuels stood next to each other, waiting expectantly.
Sally turned to Cynthia and said, "Cynthia…," and paused again.
"Yes. What is it?" Cynthia asked with a slightly worried expression mixed with a nervous smile.
"Something terrible has happened," Sally started. She looked at the men and the covered body on the gurney.
Cynthia's countenance fell and her voice got shaky. "Sally? What is it? You're scaring me."
Dr. Samuels looked over at the body and deduced that something quite bad had happened and he put out his hand to touch Cynthia's arm.
"What is it, Sally?!" Cynthia asked in a desperate, almost pleading tone.
"Cynthia, it's Roger…." Sally continued.
Dr. Samuels tried to squeeze Cynthia's arm, and she pulled it away from him and pushed past him to the gurney with a terrified look contorting her face. The men stood back from the gurney and she pulled back the blanket covering the body and backed up immediately, gasped and put both hands across her mouth. Dr. Samuels darted over to put his arms around her. Cynthia's eyes streamed with tears and she fell back against Dr. Samuels who held her tight. Her knees buckled, and Dr. Samuels couldn't hold her up so he lowered her to the ground and stayed down there with her. Sally came out from around the nurses' station and she directed the men to the morgue and squatted down to be near a sobbing, inconsolable Cynthia. Hospital staff went about their business, but gawked at the scene.
"What happened?!" she pleaded. "I don't understand….I just don't understand." The men pushed the gurney down a hallway and out of sight.
"I don't either, Cynthia," she said. "We'll figure it out later," she replied. "Let David and I help you into a room to calm down."
"C'mon, Cynthia," Dr. Samuels said, attempting to lift her up from the floor.
Sally reached out to Cynthia and took her hands as Dr. Samuels helped her up with his hands on her waist. Once she was standing, Sally put one arm around Cynthia's waist to support her and walked her to treatment room one with Dr. Samuels following closely behind.
Meanwhile, in treatment room seven, Dr. Peterson was just arriving. Cady was lying on the table in her pink pajamas with a blanket over her and she was staring at the ceiling and shivering. Nurse Kearney was holding her hand.
"Well, what have we here?" Dr. Peterson asked. Nancy was initially in his line of sight and when he came around to the table, he realized it was Cady.
"Cady Parsons?" he said with a tone of surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"She hasn't said a word," Nancy replied.
"What's the matter, Cady?" he said, shining his pen light in her eyes.
"She's in shock and her feet are cut," Nancy said as she pulled back the blanket to show her bloody feet wrapped in gauze.
"You can cover those back up again," Dr. Peterson said to Nancy. "Start her on a saline drip," he said as he listened to her heart. He took off his stethoscope and stuffed it in his lab coat pocket and pulled up a stool and sat down next to Cady. He picked up her hand and squeezed. "Now, Cady, your heart is going a mile a minute. I need you to listen to me and calm down. Everything's going to be alright, Sweetie."
Cady felt numb all over and couldn't concentrate on Dr. Peterson's words.
Nancy started the I.V. in Cady's arm and started fluids. Cady didn't flinch at the insertion of the I.V. Dr. Peterson said, "Okay, Sweetie…I'm going to fix up your feet." He switched positions with Nancy who took Cady's hand, and he moved the stool to the end of the table and lifted the blanket and removed the gauze.
"How did this happen, Cady?" he asked as he pulled a wrapped tray of instruments out of a nearby drawer.
She didn't answer, her eyes tearing up again. Nancy stroked her hair and tried to soothe her.
Sally opened the door to the treatment room, right before Dr. Peterson started to work on Cady's feet. "Dr. Peterson, could you step out in the hall with me?" Sally asked.
He put a tweezer back on the instrument tray, stood up, and put his hand on Cady's left knee. "I'll be right back. Nancy will keep you company again, Sweetie," he said in calming voice.
Dr. Peterson walked out of the room and Nancy continued stroking Cady's hair and holding her hand. Moments later, Dr. Peterson returned with a more austere expression. He sat back down to resume working on Cady's feet. He tweezed small pieces of glass out of her feet. After he had removed all of the shards, he said, "Looks like you're only going to need a few stitches and you'll be fine, Sweetie."
She just looked at him, feeling slightly calmer after Nancy's attention to her. She still couldn't feel any physical pain and felt very detached.
Dr. Peterson took out a syringe and injected a few areas of her feet with lidocaine, waited a bit, and then began stitching up the bigger cuts in her feet.
"How's my daddy?" Cady asked in a shaky voice, tears streaming down her face again.
"We'll talk about him in a bit, Sweetie. Right now, I'm taking care of you," he replied.
Cady closed her eyes and began sobbing.
"Does it hurt?" Dr. Peterson asked.
She shook her head and continued sobbing. Nancy stroked her hair and held her hand.
"I'll be done soon," he reassured. After a little while working, he put some antibiotic ointment on her wounds and wrapped her feet in fresh gauze.
While he was wrapping her feet, Cady said, "My daddy's dead, isn't he?"
He finished wrapping up her feet and covered her with the blanket again. His delayed answer to Cady was excruciating. He stood up and pushed the stool to the opposite side of the table from Nancy and sat down with his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, Sweetie. He is." Nancy gasped.
She started sobbing uncontrollably and rolled over toward Nancy and buried her face in her chest and threw her arms around her neck. Dr. Peterson rubbed her back as she cried.
In treatment room one, Cynthia and Dr. Samuels sat in two chairs very close to each other, with his arm around her shoulders. She was leaning forward and crying. Dr. Samuels said, "Cynthia, who do you want us to call? I don't think you should drive home in this condition, and be alone at home."
"Alone?... Oh my God… Cady!" she realized. "Where's Cady?"
"Don't worry. Sally said Lowell was taking care of her with Nancy," he replied.
"I need to go to her, then," she said. She rallied herself, "I need to go to her and then figure out what happened to Roger. There will have to be an autopsy." She stood up, rigid and vigilant.
"You need to sit here and get over the shock you are obviously in," Dr. Samuels cautioned. He held her arm and squeezed, and she sat back down. "Here, take this," he said as he handed her a pill and a small cup of water.
"What's this?" she asked – her pained face streaked with trails of mascara.
"It's a mild tranquilizer," he replied.
"I don't need this," she argued, holding the pill and water in her hands. "I have to finish my shift."
"There's no way you are going to finish your shift, Cynthia. Just take it," he replied.
She paused, took it, and sat back with her head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "I want to know what happened, David."
"I know you do. Right now, you need to take care of you," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders again. "Who should I call?"
"My mother….Deborah Glass. She's been a patient here. Her number will be in her file," Cynthia replied, tears welling up in her eyes again.
"You don't remember her number?" he asked.
She looked up as if to pull the information from thin air and shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, David. I can barely remember my name right now."
Dr. Samuels stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's Okay. Wait here. I'll go call her."
"What happened to Cady?" she asked.
"She has some cuts on her feet. Lowell is fixing her up right now. Don't worry," Dr. Samuels replied. "Now, I mean it. Stay right here. That tranquilizer will kick in and you'll need someone to keep an eye on you," he cautioned.
She nodded and as he left, she bent over, wrapped her arms around herself and began sobbing again.
Cady rolled back over and faced the ceiling after crying on Nancy for a while. Nancy pulled her blanket higher to keep her warm. She stroked her hair again.
"Are you feeling calmer, Sweetie?" Dr. Peterson asked.
Cady nodded, tears still streaming down her face.
"Okay. I'm going to step out for a bit and I'll be right back," he said as he stood up.
Cady turned to him and said, "You can do magic. Can you bring my daddy back?" she pleaded.
He put his hand on her arm. "Oh, Sweetie…Those are just tricks. That's not how it works," he said. "I wish I could bring him back."
She was hurt deeply that Dr. Peterson couldn't bring her daddy back.
"I'm really sorry about your daddy, Sweetie. He was a good man," he replied. "I'll be right back, okay?"
She rolled over to Nancy again and hugged her tightly. Nancy also had tears in her eyes as she returned Cady's hug.
Dr. Peterson left and went to the lobby nurses' station where Dr. Samuels was with Sally Tompkins. Dr. Samuels rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as Sally was on the phone to file keeping. "Can you look up Deborah Glass's number and call me back with it?"…. "Yes." …. "Okay." …. "Please hurry." She hung up the phone.
"Poor Cady. She's beside herself," Dr. Peterson said to the other two.
"How are her feet?" Dr. Samuels asked.
"Far better than her heart…. What a loss," Dr. Peterson observed. "How's Cynthia?"
"She's vacillating between grieving and her usual dutiful self," Dr. Samuels said. "She's in shock."
"I just can't imagine what might have happened to Roger," Sally remarked. "What was he? 40? 41?"
"I don't know the circumstances of the night at the Parsons' house yet, but if it was sudden, it could have been a heart attack, pulmonary embolism, brain aneurysm, or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Those are the usual suspects," Dr. Samuels said.
The phone rang and Sally picked it up. "Yes," she said as she wrote down a number. "Thank you," she said, and hung up. "Do you want me to call, or do you want to call?" she asked, holding out the receiver to Dr. Samuels.
"I'll do it," he replied and took the receiver. She dialed the phone for him and he waited for someone to pick up on the other end. Dr. Peterson leaned on the counter and Sally stood by expectantly.
"Yes," Dr. Samuels said. "Is this Mrs. Glass?"
"Yes it is," she said with a yawn, lying in bed holding the receiver from the phone on her nightstand.
"It's Dr. David Samuels from Hermann Hospital."
Deborah sat up and shoved Jacob on the arm. He mumbled and opened his eyes and she shoved him again and he sat up too. "What is it? Is there something wrong?" she asked.
"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Glass," he replied.
Deborah gasped. "Is it my Cynthia?"
"No, Mrs. Glass," he replied.
Deborah interjected again, "Please not my little Cady?" Jacob was visibly worried at their end of the phone conversation and stared at Deborah with grave concern.
"Mrs. Glass, it's your son-in-law," Dr. Samuels said.
"Roger?" she replied. Jacob leaned in closer. "What's happened?"
"I'm afraid he has died, Mrs. Glass," Dr. Samuels replied.
"What?!" she exclaimed and put her free hand over her mouth. "How?!"
"We don't know yet," he replied. "Cynthia is going to need someone to take her home tonight and take care of her. Will you or Mr. Glass be able to do so?"
"Of course….We'll be right there!" Deborah replied. "Thank you for notifying us."
"I'll see you soon," Dr. Samuels replied.
"We'll be there in about thirty minutes," she replied.
"Okay. Just come to the lobby nurses' station and ask for me. Sally will page me," he replied.
"Okay. Goodbye," she said.
"Goodbye," he said. And they both hung up their phones.
To be continued….