¡°Bring whatever medical supplies you might have,¡± he said. ¡°Anything. Thread, gauze,
anything. And meet us at the Tavern. Please.¡±
¡°Medical supplies¡? Isaac, I¡¯m a veterinarian. What is going on?¡±
¡°Samantha. I need you.¡± I could envision his serious green eyes staring at me, begging
me to help without asking questions. Glancing over my shoulder in the direction of my
dad¡¯s room where he was sound asleep, a pang surged through me. Once again, Isaac said,
¡°Samantha¡¡±
¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll be there soon.¡±
Quickly, I searched through all my work bags, desperate for any medical supplies. I
had no idea what I was going on, let alone what kind of stuff I may need. Luckily, I had a
first aid kit handy with a few extra tools. It wasn¡¯t much, but I was a half-asleep
veterinarian. What more did they expect?
Throwing the kit in a black backpack and slipping on a black sweater and pants, trying
to be as camouflaged into the dark as possible, I snuck down the steps. Right as I was
slipping on my shoes, the living room lamp flicked on and I froze. Stirring from the sofa
was followed by my dad¡¯s footsteps and eventually, him confronting me at the door.
¡°Sammy?¡± he asked sleepily, as if wondering if he was dreaming. ¡°What are you
doing?¡±
¡°Umm¡ why are you sleeping on the couch?¡± That was not the correct answer.
My dad¡¯s eyes perked and more alert, he said, ¡°Because after today, I was worried
you¡¯d go sneaking out again.¡±
¡°Dad, I¡¯m twenty-seven, it¡¯s not sneaking out.¡±
¡°Then tell me where you¡¯re going if you¡¯re not sneaking around.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have time¡ª¡±
¡°It¡¯s four in the morning, Sam. What could you be in a rush for?¡±
I didn¡¯t even have an answer to give if I wanted to.
¡°Something is wrong with you, Sammy, you¡¯re not acting like yourself.¡± His voice
turned more concerned. ¡°If¡ if you¡¯re seeing someone and they¡¯re making you act like
this, then¡ maybe it isn¡¯t¡ª¡±
¡°Dad, stop,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not like that.¡±