The Most Painful Things

Six

After what seems like an eternity, we finally arrive at the hospital. I rush up the steps before them, but the EMT I talked to earlier stops me. John's lifeless body rushes by me. I try to run after him, but the EMT holds me back. 

"No!" I scream. "John! No, let me go, that's my best friend dying in there!" They were useless things to scream, and the medic knows it. Instead of letting me go, he drags me back into the waiting room and sits me down. 

"Listen," he says, "you're friend was medically dead for a few minutes. But we got him back!" He exclaims hastily at my horrified expression. "He swallowed a fatal amount of water, and his body couldn't handle the combination of that and all the swimming he was doing. Thankfully, the lifeguard pulled him out just in time and called us. He's probably going to have to stay here for a while. We need you to call his parents."

Of course! In the rush from the pool, I completely forgot that I need to call Mrs. Marlow and tell her that I found John. She is certainly not going to be happy with me. I nod.

"Okay, thanks. You just wait here, and when Mr. and Mrs. Marlow get here, keep them out here too," the medic says, standing up. "My name's Richard. Just call me if you need anything."

I make an attempt at a smile, but can tell that it looks more grimace, because Richard pats me on the shoulder sympathetically. "He's going to be okay."

When he leaves, I call Mrs. Marlow. 

She picks up instantly. "Please tell me you found him!" she cries, desperation creeping into her voice. 

I hesitate, wondering how to word this in a gentle way. 

"Aiden?" She cries. 

"John's in the hospital!" I blurt out, startled. I wince. So much for gentleness. 

"WHAT?!" She shrieks. 

"We're at the one nearest to the freeway," I mumble, feeling guilty. I'm not sure why; it's not my fault. 

Mrs. Marlow hangs up the phone. 

As soon as she's gone, I dial my mom, knowing that there won't be much time for me to talk on the phone with her once Mrs. Marlow arrives. 

"Mom, I'm at the hospital," I say as soon as she picks up. 

"What?" Mom exclaims. 

"No no no, I'm not the one in the hospital." I cut in quickly. "It's John. He's okay though. Just had a little. . . mishap at the pool. I'm just here with him. I'll try to get home soon but who knows when that will be?"

"Okay," Mom says, "Next time you need to tell me you're in a hospital, make sure you emphasize who is actually in the hospital, and who isn't." 

"All right, Mom," I smile, hanging up.

A few uneventful- well, at least as uneventful as anything can be in the waiting area of the Emergency Room- minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Marlow arrive, bursting in through the door. I stand up as soon as I see it's them.

They ignore me and run straight to the front desk. "Where's my son?" Mrs. Marlow nearly shouts. I sit back down. 

"Name, please," the woman at the front desk says in a bored voice. I see that her name plate reads Debbie Walker, Front Desk, Assistant Nurse.

"Marlow-" Mr. Marlow tries.

"Where. Is. My. Son?" Mrs. Marlow cuts in, desperation, almost madness, in her every syllable. Several of the other waiting room guests pretend to be sleeping or reading their magazines, but crack open an eye to watch the new exciting couple get worked up.  

"Johnathan Cade Marlow?" Debbie asks.

"Yes," Mr. Marlow says over his wife's hysteria.

"Okay, and now you just need to fill out some paperwork-" Debbie begins.

"Paperwork?!"Mrs. Marlow shrieks. Everyone is outright staring at her now. "You expect me to sit here and fill out paperwork while my son could be dying in there?!"

"With all due respect, ma'am," the woman at the front desk says acidly, clearly fed up with Mrs. Marlow. At this point, who could blame her? I'm fed up with her and I practically grew up with the woman. "We have a lot of people who have someone who 'could by dying in there,' but you don't see them screaming at me, do you? That girl over there-" Debbie pointed at me, and I cower behind the magazine that I was pretending to read "- she came in with your son, and she's just sitting there patiently waiting!"

I wince, thinking about how I was screaming just as much, if not more, than Mrs. Marlow. Must've been before Debbie's shift started. 

"We'll just take the paperwork over there," Mr. Marlow says quietly, coaxing the steaming Mrs. Marlow away. They sit down next to me.

"What. Happened," Mrs. Marlow practically growls at me. 

I hastily explain what happened between the time of my first call and my second, skipping over the part where I lost it in the hallway. 

Mrs. Marlow seems to have decided not to talk to me anymore- as if this were all my fault- but I am greatful for the silence. 

I guess can I understand where she is coming from. I would want someone to blame too, if I were in her shoes, just so I could feel as though it wasn't my fault. I'm sure she is blaming herself just as much as she is blaming me.