And You Call Yourself A Christian (5 page)

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Authors: E. N. Joy

BOOK: And You Call Yourself A Christian
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Chapter Seven
Lorain sat in the hospital emergency room lobby twisting the engagement ring around and around her finger. The longer she sat there, the more antsy she got. Not only that, but the battle going on between her heart and her mind was starting to physically exhaust her as if she'd been in a boxing match.
She looked down at her watch. “Geez,” she said after realizing she'd only been waiting a whole five minutes. “Jesus, give me strength,” she began whispering to herself until her whispers were drowned out by a loud voice.
“We've got three African American males coming in now,” a nurse said as she dashed through the lobby to the huge double doors. She was followed by about five or six other staff members. Lorain couldn't be exact on the count. They were all going by so fast it was like one big blur. “They said the boys look to be around the ages of six, seven, and eight ... five, six, or seven even. It looks like they're victims of heat stroke, and they're not breathing,” was the last thing Lorain heard before the hospital staff was outside of the double doors.
“Oh my,” Lorain said. She then felt guilty that she was sitting in the ER stressing herself out over nothing but pure obedience to God, while there was a family being traumatized by something much bigger and much more serious than what she was going through. She looked around the ER room at mothers with sick babies. There were mothers that were sick. Mothers are the glue that keeps the household together and running properly. So when Mama was sick, down, and out, that was a big deal.
There was a grown man sitting in the ER moaning and clutching his stomach. He wore a thick, heavy brown work uniform. He was probably a father; the head of the household. It was probably his duty to bring home the money necessary for the family's livelihood and essentials. Yet all that was about to be jeopardized because he was sick in the ER.
Coming to that realization, instead of sitting in that ER and allowing her mind to drift into doubt, Lorain began to pray for others. She began to pray for the mothers, the babies, the fathers, and their loved ones. She'd barely got two sentences out when the same staff that had exited the hospital doors came zooming back in. This time they were joined by several paramedics helping them wheel in three stretchers with tiny, little bodies on them.
Closing her eyes, Lorain extended her hands toward the hospital doors and began to pray harder. First, she prayed in English, and then she began to pray in unknown tongues.
“They're not breathing,” someone yelled frantically. “None of them are breathing.” That voice faded as it cut across Lorain's path. This only made her begin to pray even that much harder.
“Where's the mother? Where's the father? Is anyone here with them? Did anyone ride in either of the ambulances with them?” a male voice asked.
“I don't think so,” another male voice replied. “They were alone. They were all alone.”
Within seconds, the tornado that had just spun through the ER lobby was gone, but little did Lorain know, it would leave more destruction in its path than she could have ever imagined.
 
 
“I know those kids. I know those boys,” Jim said as each stretcher was whizzed by him, headed toward its designated room.
“Well, good, that's all the more reason for you to help save them,” a woman, appearing to be the head nurse in charge, replied. “Don't just stand there,” the nurse spat off to Jim. “Jump in and help.”
Jim turned to the nurse's aide that was standing beside him, ready to assist in any way needed. “What room is Wright in?” he asked her. Not even giving her a second to answer, he yelled, “What room is Dr. Wright in?”
“There,” she pointed nervously. “Where they just took one of the boys.”
Jim's eyes followed where the aide's index finger was pointing. He then ran into the room. When he arrived, Nicholas was at the sink finishing up scrubbing and drying his hands. When he turned around, there was a nurse on each side of him with a rubber glove in hand. Each woman eagerly, and with precision, placed a glove on each of Nicholas's hands.
“What do we got?” Nicholas asked, walking toward the motionless body lying in the middle of the room.
“Dr. Wright,” Jim tried to warn, but it was too late. The two nurses that had just assisted Nicholas in putting on the gloves had to assist him in standing. For just one second, two seconds tops, Nicholas felt as though his knees were going to hit the ground. Upon seeing the tiny, little body before him, his knees had buckled.
This was the part about being in the medical field that most medical professionals detested; a sick child . . . a helpless, sick child. Something about their innocent little selves made a medical staff member work just that much harder. It made them research just that much more to find cures, solutions, and antidotes. Nicholas had his own personal viewpoint about why God would send a child into the ER with a serious condition every now and then. He felt it was just to remind him why he was doing what he was doing.
“Dr. Wright, are you okay?” he heard a voice ask him. It was so faint, like it was in the background.
“Yes, yes. I'm just fine,” Nicholas assured his comrades. “What do we have?” Nicholas immediately went into 100-percent doctor mode.
“Male, African American boy who has suffered from . . .” a nurse began to rattle off as everyone began to move in sync to do whatever needed to be done to save the boy's life. This was the exact scene in two other rooms in the ER. And the results, in each room, would be the same.
After working for over forty-five minutes nonstop on the little boy, Nicholas was relentless. He was giving the child mouth-to-mouth. He was trying to pump life back into the little boy with his hands; his hands that were placed on the little boy's chest going up and down. He was trying to breathe life back into the little boy with his mouth; his mouth placed over the little boy's exhaling. All this had more than likely been done in the ambulance, Nicholas knew. It had been the EMTs' first resort, but now it was Nicholas's last.
When the boys had been brought into the ER, none of them were breathing. Breathing tubes had been tried. Nicholas had placed paddles on the boy's chest, hopeful the shock would have jump-started his heart. He'd closed his eyes and instead of the boy lying underneath him, he pictured his old Toyota he'd driven throughout the better part of medical school. He remembered how it would always lose its juice, but after a jump start, it never let him down. It always came back to life. This little boy had not come back to life.
“Come on, God. Do it,” Nicholas said in between the pumping and the breathing. “I know you can do it, God. I've seen you do it before.” Nicholas knew the chances of his act getting the boy breathing again was small, but God was big. He could use any method. He'd seen God do some unexplainable things before in that ER. “Do it now, God!”
Nicholas pumped some more. Nicholas breathed some more. Yet, the child remained lifeless. Nicholas pumped some more, and then breathed some more, realizing he was now the only one in the room doing anything to try to save the boy. The nurses just looked from one to another, knowing in their hearts that Nicholas's efforts were in vain—that he was just going through the motions out of pure desperation. They'd already tried everything medically possible to get the boy breathing. His heart was dead. His brain was dead due to the long period of time it had gone without oxygen.
“Why are you all just standing there?” he yelled at the top of his lungs at his staff that appeared to be standing in the background allowing him to do all the work. “Help me! Help me!” he ordered. “Help me!” Nicholas repeated to his staff, but in essence, he was really talking to God.
The staff looked at each other, but nobody moved.
“Did you all hear what I said?” Nicholas yelled before an expletive jumped off of his tongue.
“Dr. Wright. Dr. Wright.” Jim solemnly walked over to Nicholas and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Get off of me, man,” Nicholas spat. “It's him that needs help. It's the boy that needs help, not me.”
Jim, once again, and carefully, placed his hand on Nicholas's shoulder. “Dr. Wright? Dr. Wright?”
Nicholas looked over at Jim with bloodshot eyes. Jim didn't say a word at first, he just shook his head. Finally he spoke. “He's gone, Dr. Wright. He's gone.” Jim was right. The little boy was gone. Technically, he was gone the minute they wheeled him into the hospital. He was already gone when Nicholas and his staff had begun their efforts to try to revive him; all efforts were in vain.
Nicholas turned his attention from Jim and back to the little boy. Everything in him wanted to break down right there in the middle of that room. It was the hardest thing for Nicholas to stand there and keep his composure and remain professional. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked at Jim and said, “Take me to the other two.” He felt as though there were still a chance he could help save the other two.
Maybe he couldn't save that one, but that didn't mean he had to give up on the others. That wasn't God's mentality, and neither was it Nicholas's.
Not waiting for Jim to lead the way, Nicholas brushed past him and out of the room. In the hallway he was greeted by a thick sheet of grief. His eyes met those of his comrades who had exited the rooms of the other two little boys just minutes before. By the look on their faces, Nicholas knew they'd had the same result with their boys as he'd had with the one assigned to him.
“The boys,” Nicholas started, “did either of them make it?”
When he saw the head nurse wiping a tear and then rushing off before anyone else would notice, he knew the answer. It was when someone verbalized it by saying, “No, neither of them made it,” that Nicholas's knees, once again, buckled. This time there was no nurse at either of his side to catch him from falling. Fortunately for him, though, just like when Jesus had died on the cross, God was there. God was there.
Chapter Eight
“Just calm down, Ms. Gray,” the female officer said to a hysterical Unique. “Would you like something to drink?”
Unique shook her head as tears fell from her eyes. “No. I just want to go home. I want to go home, and I'm pissed that your partner is trying to play with my mind. He's trying to get me to admit to something that I didn't do. Since I won't tell him what he wants to hear, he's going after my son's father. This is crazy. I mean, what's his deal? Why is he being such a jerk?” Unique wiped her tears away with her cuffed hands.
“Oh, don't pay him no never mind.” The female officer shooed her hand at the door as if Officer Givens was still standing there. “He's really a big softie.”
“Oh yeah?” The sarcasm in Unique's voice could be well detected.
“Yes. It's just that he gets tired ... We get tired of seeing young ladies like you taking the rap for their boyfriends. I mean, you wouldn't believe how many women choose to do the time for their man, rather than just tell the truth.”
“But I
am
telling the truth. I promise to God I am. Why won't you believe me?”
“I believe you.” The female officer reached out and grabbed Unique's hand. “I really do, and I want to help you, Ms. Gray. In order for me to help you, though, you are going to have to help me.” She leaned in closer and began to whisper, as if there weren't three officers watching the entire thing going down on a television camera in the next room. “We really don't want any of the worker bees in the game. We want the queen bee. Well, in this case, the king bee, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean, and if I had a name to give you, I would, but I don't. I'm telling you, I'm not into the dope game. Yeah, I hit a joint once in every blue moon, but not since I've been saved. I try to do right by my kids.”
The officer stared at Unique without saying a word. It was as if she almost wanted to believe her. It was as if she almost felt ... felt ... felt sorry for the young, single mother. “So you said you have three sons, huh?”
“Yes, three beautiful sons who I'd never jeopardize being away from, especially by getting caught selling drugs.” Unique sucked her teeth. “You think I don't know that a drug dealer gets jail time? Please. I'd never risk being away from my boys.”
“Speaking of being away from your boys, while you were supposedly seeing about child support from your baby daddy, where were your three boys?”
“They were with my ...” Unique's words trailed off. She wasn't quite clear if she'd left them at home with her sister, if they were at Lorain's, or what. That bump on the head had mixed her up a little bit, but not enough to sit there and let someone accuse her of being a dope dealer. A dope dealer she was not; that much she knew.
After thinking for a moment, Unique jumped up so fast from the table that the officer drew her gun and aimed it directly at Unique.
“Freeze!” the officer warned Unique. Not two seconds later, the door flung open and two other officers stood with their guns drawn.
Unique didn't freeze though. She hadn't even comprehended the officer's direct order. Her good sense had left that room and went back to the last time she'd seen her boys' faces.
“Y'all stay out here. I'm not going to be but a second,” Unique had ordered her children after parking her car a few houses down from the one her son's father hustled out of.
“But it's hot out here, and I want to see my daddy,” her oldest son had countered.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Unique had to agree that it was indeed hot outside. “The windows are down, and I won't be but a second, I promise you.” Unique got out of the car and closed the door. No sooner had she done that than some young thug came down from the porch of the house she had parked in front of.
“What you need?” the Li'l Wayne wannabe asked her.
“Excuse me,” Unique replied.
“Man, she don't want nothing,” another young guy from the porch called out to the young thug.
He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes at Unique. Then he turned around and walked back to the porch while mumbling, “Witch, made me walk all the way down here for nothing. I oughtta ...” he looked back over his shoulder at Unique with a crooked lip and threatening look in his eyes, but then kept it moving back to his spot on the porch.
“On second thought,” Unique said to herself, quickly going back to the car and rolling up the windows, “I'll only be a half a second,” she promised the boys, locking the door, and then hurrying to the house her baby daddy was at. She didn't want that young thug retaliating against her by using her boys. She didn't want anyone having access to her boys in that neighborhood.
Making a split-second decision, Unique had weighed whether it would have been better to take the boys to the crack house with her or leave them in the car. Having no idea the police would have raided the place, she was glad she hadn't had her boys in the house caught up in that drama. Besides, the police would have probably attacked them too. And by now, they'd been down at Franklin County Children's Services scared to death. But as she stood there with three guns pointed at her, she was willing to take all the bullets they could fire off to find out just where her sons were.
“But my sons, my babies ...” Despite the orders the female officer had shouted out to her, and despite the three guns pointed at her, Unique charged at the door. “I have to go back and get my sons. My boys. They're at the house. They're still back at that house.”
“Ms. Gray, settle down,” the female officer ordered. “I gave you a direct order to freeze. Don't make me have to use this weapon, Ms. Gray.” She nodded to her two fellow officers. “Don't make any of us.”
“Go ahead, shoot me, but I'm going to get my boys. My boys!”
One of the officers tucked away his weapon and decided to physically restrain Unique. She was in cuffs. He knew he could take her.
“Please, please, let me go.” Unique kicked and screamed until the second officer who had entered the room assisted in restraining her as well.
The female officer put her gun away. “Ms. Gray, we searched that house. We turned it upside down. Your boys are not there. No one is there. Anyone in that house was arrested along with you, so trust me, your boys are not at that house.”
“The car,” Unique cried as her body, weak from fighting the officers, went limp. “I left them in car while I went to the house. I was only going to be a second. I told them I would be right back. So you see, I have to go back. I have to go back to get them. I have to go back to get my boys. I promised them I'd be right back. I promised them.”
Unique began to weep uncontrollably. It was no good. Every ounce of strength she might have had just ten seconds ago was now depleted.
“Officer Crouse, can I talk to you for a second.” The voice came from Officer Givens who appeared in the doorway.
“Sure,” the female officer replied to Officer Givens. She then addressed the other two officers as she exited the room. “Keep an eye on her. I'll be right back.”
“Bring my boys back with you, please,” Unique cried. “Please bring my boys back to me. They're probably scared. I told them I would be right back. I told them I would be right back.”
With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Unique lay on the floor thinking that her boys being down at Franklin County Children's Services might not have been so bad after all.

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