Page 10 of This Love
I had no idea, and this made the panic increase. I should know my father. Why didn’t I know? My heart thudded hard in my chest, increasing the pressure in my head with each thump, thump, thump.
Something squeezed my shoulder, startling me. I scooted backward, trying to use my feet to move.
But there was something on my feet—shoes, I guessed, strange and spiky and hard to move in.
“Ava,” the first voice said. “We’re almost at the hospital.”
Hospital. That was for sick people.
Yes, that would be good. I was clearly sick. Nothing felt right, a hundred alarms sounding all over my body.
The itching was the least of my problems. My head hurt so badly that my stomach was revolting. I didn’t know what would come after this heaving, but it had to be bad.
I managed to roll over and get to my knees. I was trapped in layers of fabric. With my head facing down, I could open my eyes more easily. The floor was dark, with no light shining directly at me, no faces that made my stomach react.
But I couldn’t control my breath. The air rattled in my throat.
“Breathe, Ava,” the voice of the person claiming to be my father was gentler now. “You’re hyperventilating. You’re okay. We’re here. We will help you.”
These words soothed me, making my belly stop its lurching. I sucked in a long gulp of air.
I couldn’t talk. I had nothing to say. I didn’t know the questions to ask. I stayed on my hands and knees, shifting from right to left to adjust to the movements of the floor.
I lifted my head. We were inside a car, a big car. The seats ran along both sides, facing each other. A driver sat in the front, the window between his part of the car and ours rolled halfway down.
“She okay?” the man called.
“We’re stable,” the father person said. “Just pull into emergency.”
We drove past row after row of cars in every color. A brown building appeared with a huge red cross over the door.
The father kneeled in front of me. “Your name is Ava. You’re my daughter. You had a seizure. You probably feel very confused. We’re here to help.”
I stared at his face. He had brown hair mixed with gray and a thick mustache trimmed in a neat, even line.
My throat hurt, but I said, “My head.”
He nodded. “We’ll get you something for the pain. Can you sit on the seat?” He reached for my arm.
“I think so.”
He lifted me until I was upright and on the cushion. I realized I was in a long, heavy white dress. Three women were also in long dresses, all pink.
Another man with a mustache touched his forehead, chest, and shoulders. “Dios mío, I thought we’d lost you, Mija.”
I got lost?
The car stopped in front of a long wall of glass. “I’ll go ahead and tell them the situation,” the father said. “Tina, you and the girls wait here with Ava.”
I clasped my hands in my lap, realizing that if I squeezed tightly, it helped the pain in my head.
The four faces watched me intently. Even the driver was turned around, like I was something strange and foreign to be examined.
My head felt empty, the sights and sounds and words since I woke on the floor rattling around. I focused on each moment. The car. The light. The pain. The lace. The big, heavy dress. I didn’t know what any of it meant.
The father returned with two other men. “We’re going to get you out, Ava.” He ducked inside and took my hands to help me across the car to the door.
The world was so bright I had to close my eyes again. I allowed the men to seat me in a wheelchair.
