The burn of salt in my throat makes me cough a lot, but I don’t mind. I’m alive!
Ann is holding on to her chest kind of funny, and she can’t seem to catch her breath.
Oh man, I hope she’s OK.
“My daughter has a serious heart condition,” Dad says. “She needs an ambulance.”
Dad has a cell phone on him, so he calls nine-one-one. The nearest ambulance service is in Seaside; they tell him they’ll be here in fifteen minutes. Dad gives the address of our beach house, and then he scoops up Ann in one motion and carries her all the way inside.
The rest of us follow, not bothering to pick up our towels on the beach.
In the house, while my parents tend to Ann on the couch, Bree puts on a T-shirt and shoes.
“What are you up to?” Mom asks her.
“I have to tell Tanner.”
“That can wait.”
“No! I have to. This is my fault and…and he would want to see her before they take her away.”
I know what she really means: He would want to see her in case she dies.
“Please,” says Bree, begging.
“Well, you can’t go alone.”
“I’ll go!” I shout, just wanting to do anything to help.
Mom thinks about it for a moment, then agrees.
I throw on a dry shirt, grab my sneakers by the door, and then Bree and I tear off down the street toward the center of town. In a matter of minutes we’re at the candy store. Tanner is behind the counter with an older man, who must be the owner.
“Ann needs you!” Bree says right away.
The man and Tanner seem startled at first. Then Tanner realizes that this isn’t an ordinary visit. “What’s wrong?”
“She saved me from drowning,” I blurt out, “and now her heart is hurting. They called an ambulance!”
In one giant step Tanner flies around the corner of the candy display. “Where is she?”
“At the house,” Bree says, panting.
Without waiting to find out more, Tanner is gone.
Bree and I are both out of breath, but we chase after him. Out on the sidewalk, we can hear the sound of a siren heading through the middle of town.
“Tanner! Wait!” Bree calls before he can get too far.
He slows down so we can catch up.
Bree forces out her words between gasps for air. “I need you…to do something.”
“Anything.”
“My sister needs…her first kiss,” she says. “Don’t let her die…without that.”
Tanner tries to smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” He takes off running again.
“Promise me!” she shouts.
“I will,” he yells back as he bolts across the busiest intersection. I can tell that the ambulance is very close, probably just around the corner, and approaching fast.
All of the cars on the cross street are pulling to the side of the road to let the ambulance through. Bree has a longer stride than me, so she’s maybe ten yards ahead. When she reaches the intersection, she follows Tanner’s lead and goes straight through.
No! Stop! “Bree! Look out!”
The next few seconds are the longest of my life—even longer than nearly drowning.
When Bree rushes into the road, she doesn’t see that not all of the cars got out of the way of the ambulance. But I can see perfectly, and I know immediately what is about to happen.
It’s not fair that I can’t stop it.
It’s not fair that the driver of the red car doesn’t get out of the way when he hears the sirens.
It’s not fair that he speeds up to get through the intersection before the other cars, and that he doesn’t see Bree until it’s too late.
It’s not fair that I have to see it happen.
Life is not fair.
I don’t know why, but as I shout at Bree, my focus is on her feet, and my eyes somehow stay glued to her shoes. Unfortunately, her shoes don’t stay glued to her feet. On impact, one shoe flips up over the back of the car, and the other is whipped at least forty feet away, in Tanner’s direction, on the opposite side of the intersection.
With the horror in front of me, I freeze. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t move my feet. I’m the closest person to the accident, but I’m stuck at the edge of the sidewalk.
I want to puke again, like I did back on the beach.
From the sideline, I watch as Tanner turns and runs back to the scene. He is the first one to reach Bree.
The ambulance slows to a stop; its siren is still blaring as a paramedic jumps out of the passenger side. He kneels beside Bree, on the opposite side of Tanner, then signals something to the driver and the siren cuts off.
I stay for a minute as they begin working on her. Then my feet thaw and I take off running for home, leaving Tanner and Bree there in the middle of the road with the paramedics.