There Was an Old Woman

Chapter Thirty-eight


“Easy does it,” a woman’s soothing voice said. As Mina was turned over and lifted onto a stretcher, she gasped for breath. The pain in her left side was excruciating. The world around her shorted out and went dark.

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” The same voice pulled her back. Mina blinked up at the figure who was blocking a pulsing light. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Mina managed to gasp out. She could feel the woman gently wiping grit from the side of her face.

“Good. Hang on now.” A sheet was tucked under her arms. “You’ve dislocated your left hip. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

Something was being wrapped around her upper arm. Tightening. A blood pressure cuff.

“You’re going to be fine.” The woman’s voice again as the cuff was removed.

They were moving now. Into an ambulance? A hand came down over her face. Mina fought it. Pushed it away.

“It’s oxygen. It will help you breathe.” That woman, this time with the pressure of a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Your blood pressure is dropping so we want to be sure you’re getting enough. Don’t worry, I’ve got your purse and your cane.”

Mina grabbed the woman’s arm. She tried to say, “My glasses.”

“Excuse me?”

Mina stared up into the face bending over her, just able to make out the features. She tried again. “Glasses. Please.” She could feel the woman’s long hair tickling her face. “I can’t see.”

“Hold on.” The woman raised her voice. “Hey, watch where you’re stepping. Anyone find this woman’s glasses?”

After a pause, Mina heard a man’s voice growl, “Yo. Got ’em.”

A few moments later, Mina’s glasses were slipped over her face, and she could see sky. There was a small break in the clouds and the fresh, unlined face of the young woman standing over her. Long dark bangs hung over her eyes. Mina resisted the urge to push the hair back. How could the girl see? Mina craned her neck to find the waiting ambulance. A police officer was standing by its open doors, talking to Brian.

Mina didn’t struggle this time when an oxygen mask was fastened over her face. The stretcher she was on started to roll. Every bump felt like an electrode jabbed into her hip.

Through a blur of pain, Mina could hear Brian’s voice. “Y-e-t . . .” He was spelling her name for the police officer. “Ninety.” She was ninety-one, but she didn’t have the strength to correct him.

The stretcher stopped at the back of the ambulance. The sky and parking lot disappeared as Mina was lifted inside. It was warm and dry and quiet, and she could just hear Brian’s voice. “No, I didn’t get the license plate, but I saw it peel out of here. I don’t think the guy even realized he’d hit her.”

The policeman’s response was barely a rumble.

Brian’s voice again: “I got a pretty good look. It was a dark red Dodge minivan.”

“But it wasn’t,” Mina said, the words caught in the oxygen mask. It had been a truck, a black pickup truck that was parked next to the red van.

The EMT was crouched beside Mina. She put her hand on Mina’s arm. “Shhh. Just try to relax. We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes, and soon you’ll be right as rain.”

The ambulance doors slammed shut, and a moment later, the siren started to wail, and they were in motion.