Echo Response

Echo 1

Prologue

The chair launched backwards as the girls legs propelled the dinner table upwards, sending the hot creamy pumpkin soup that her father had only placed there a minute ago, flying in stream-like patterns that splattered over the worn beige carpet in an art-like disaster.
The father moved with a swift and purposeful motion to prevent his daughters head from impacting on the floor. It a slide-like motion similar to a baseball dive to the plate, he tucked his hands under her head just before the collision; but there was no sweeping gesture from the imaginary baseball umpire to declare safe. The situation was far from safe as the girl convulsed violently and started foaming at the mouth.
"No, no, no!" The father cried as he dashed over to the couch to retrieve his mobile phone.
His sweat licked palms made the phone difficult to hold as his first attempt to dial 000 (911) failed. A quick wipe on his jeans and he tried again.
"What?" he exclaimed in a bewildered disbelief.
The reception indicator on his phone was fine, but no dial tone was heard as he desperately tried to call again.
Beep Beep Beep. Nothing!

Moving back to his daughter, everything in the room seemed to move in slow motion. Her white cotton blouse and soft brown hair had traces of the yellow pumpkin liquid. Her knees jerked as her back arched and her once innocent soft chocolate eyes rolled backwards for a seemingly infinate time.
Placing his right hand under his head, he dialled feavourishly on his phone to contact the emergency services.
"No, no, no! What the hell!!" he cried in painful wails as he tried to make his daughter as comfortable as possible. He'd seen the fits many times over her years with her epilepsy; but he knew a crisis when he saw it.
And right now he needed crisis help.
Dialling, dialling... Fading, fading...

He sat.

His daughter body slowly stilled with a tired wanting.

"My baby..."

Her eyes gazed at him with a look like she had just waken up and was expecting him to make bacon and eggs in a smiley face on the plastic plate with tomato sauce hair.

The phone dropped to the floor and he smashed his fist into it, then he cradled her head with both hands. "will just be a minute my little pigeon, just a minute... gotta heat the pan and whisk the eggs... "

The tears fell.