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Rescued(53)

By:Priscilla West


“I’m sure you’ll handle it better than I did. The most important thing is meeting all the representatives from these art schools. I imagine that will be more one-on-one than a giant crowd.”

I considered this. “Yeah, though it would definitely be cool to win. I guess at this point it’s already more than I could have hoped for, getting to meet people from these art schools and have a chance to have my work judged at a high level. I’m just going to try and enjoy it.”

“I think that’s a very good attitude, dear.”

My aunt hummed cheerfully. When she noticed that my bowl was empty, she tutted. “Here I am talking your ear off and you must be starving. Would you like—”

Billy came in the front door. “MOM!”

Something was wrong. My aunt’s eyes went wide and she dropped the ladle in her hand before bolting for the door. I followed right behind her, my heart in my mouth.

Billy waited just long enough for us to get to the door before running into the yard. When we got outside, it took a while to even understand what had happened. Billy came to a stop a few feet away from Hunter, who was on the ground. Joel was holding onto Hunter’s hand, trying to drag him up.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Hunter said. His words seemed fuzzy and indistinct and his eyes were unfocused. My stomach sank. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“What’s going on here?” Aunt Caroline asked.

Joel let go of his hand and answered. “Hunter fell.”

“It’s okay,” Hunter said. “Just a little scraped up.”

He showed us his arm. An angry red rash covered a few inches of skin on his wrist. I looked at the frightened expressions on Joel and Billy’s faces. This wasn’t just a fall. Something wasn’t right. My pulse pounded in my ears and the hair at the back of my neck stood up.

Hunter looked like a drunk man stumbling when he tried to stand up. He got up on one knee but when he tried to stand it buckled and he went down. I ran to him, taking his hand.

Even though I was trying to slow my breathing, my breath came in quick bursts. “What happened?” I asked, as calmly as I could.

His eyes were wide and panicked but he continued trying to stand up. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Hunter, it’s okay. Stay down for a minute. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Just help me get up.”

I eased myself under his armpit and strained to help him up. It was no use. His legs folded awkwardly under him and he was way too heavy to lift by myself.

I collapsed under him, panting.

A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He gulped for air like a fish out of water. The doctor had said Hunter’s next MS attack could be a lot worse. Was this it? From the look on Hunter’s face, I could tell he was thinking the exact same thing. I was on the edge of panic, my throat dry and thick.

Whatever I felt at that moment, I needed to get myself under control. I turned to my aunt. Her eyes were wide with concern.

“I think we need to call an ambulance,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“No!” Hunter said. “No. It’s fine. I just need to get to the hospital. I’m so sorry Ms. Perkins.”

His face was red. He kept trying to get up but he couldn’t. Watching him struggle sent hot spikes of pain searing through my heart. He was just as frightened as I was, maybe even more so.

My aunt looked at me for a second, her face full of questions, but thankfully she didn’t ask any. She jumped into action right away. “I’ll call Stewart and have him meet us at the hospital. Boys, get in the van.”

Joel and Billy marched dutifully to the family’s minivan, climbing into the backseat. Even though the situation looked bad, they had complete faith that their mother had things under control.

Once she was sure the boys had followed directions, my aunt turned to me. “Come on, help me move him.”

I nodded numbly and put Hunter’s arm around me again. Aunt Caroline took his other arm.

Even with the two of us, Hunter was very heavy. We half carried, half dragged him to the van. His legs dangled below him, unable to bear any weight. Eventually we got him into the middle row and put a seat belt around him. I sat in the middle row with him, while my aunt hurried around to the driver’s seat and started the car. Soon we were on our way.

Hunter leaned back against the seat mumbling. His eyes looked sunken and feverish, but he was awake.

Aunt Caroline called my uncle as she made her way out of the subdivision. I watched Hunter to see if there were any changes in his condition, but he was barely lucid. More than anything, he looked exhausted. His normally bright face had a gray pall to it as he lay there trying to keep his head up. After a while, he started to nod off.