The Year I Almost Drowned (36 page)

down the road. I slowly got up off of the ground. Firetrucks surrounded the diner.

Firefighters sprayed gallons of water from their long hoses, trying to put out the

flames. The entire diner was on fire–all of it. There was no way it could be saved

now.

I trudged through the grass, crossing onto the road, and pushing my way through

the cluster of onlookers gawking at the fiery mess. The ambulance made a dash

for the parking lot. Two paramedics exited, grabbing a gurney, wheeling it toward

someone,

but

I

couldn’t

tell

who.

Was

it

Hank?

Within seconds, they rolled the gurney toward the ambulance with an injured man

laying on top of it. It was Jesse. He was hurt. I ran as fast as I could toward him.

“Jesse!”

I

screamed.

“Miss, you need to stay back,” a firefighter said, but I ignored him.

He lay on that gurney, his left arm swollen and red. I swallowed some bile, my

throat burning. Layers of his skin had been melted away. An oxygen mask

covered his mouth and nose. His sleepy eyes stared at nothing. I touched him

gently,

afraid

my

touch

would

hurt

him.

“Jesse,” I whispered, my throat dry and hoarse. His light blue eyes blinked in

recognition to the sound of my voice. “What were you doing in there?” I cried.

The paramedics began to lift the gurney up into the ambulance before he had the

chance

to

answer

me.

“Let me ride with him,” I said and coughed. My chest ached.

“Miss,

you

need

to

be

examined,”

the

paramedic

told

me.

“No,”

I

argued.

“I

don’t

want

to

leave

him.”

The paramedic looked over my shoulder and moved his eyes to the right, giving

a signal to someone. I turned and saw another paramedic standing right behind

me. “We need to examine you,” this one said to me. Before I could protest, he

gently took me by the arm and led me to the other ambulance.

“No.”

I

tried

to

jerk

away,

but

I

was

too

weak.

He sat me down inside of the ambulance and began to check my vitals. I watched

as Jesse was lifted up into the other ambulance. The doors closed and then the

ambulance

rode

away.

“We need to take you to the hospital. What’s your name, Miss?”

“Finley Hemmings,” I answered. “Will he be okay?” I looked at him desperately.

“Will

he

be

okay?”

“He should be,” he answered. “You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke.” He pointed to the

gurney.

“I’d

like

you

to

lay

down

here.”

I did as he requested and lay down while they poked and prodded me with

needles and other medical equipment. An oxygen mask was placed over my nose

and mouth. The clean, fresh air was an instant relief.

I lay on a hospital bed, in a crowded room, surrounded by nothing but sick people.

The cries of toddlers and babies screaming at the top of their lungs, heart

monitors beeping in constant rhythm, doctors and nurses moving hurriedly to

each patient, and the agonizing sound of people in pain were all that I could hear.

My pulse beat rapidly. It was too difficult to relax with all of that commotion.

My head continued to throb; my chest ached. I was a wreck, a literal wreck. No

one had come to check on me. When the paramedics took me into the emergency

room, one of the nurses’ found me a bed and then forgot about me. I continued

to lay on that stiff, uncomfortable flat mattress for a long time.

A nurse finally came and checked my vitals. “We need to take you up to Radiology

to have a chest X-ray,” she said to me. She didn’t ask me my name. She didn’t

introduce herself. I was just another patient in a row of many.

“Jesse

Quinn.

Can

you

tell

me

how

he

is?”

I

asked.

“Who?” She checked the monitor and then looked at me with a confused

expression.

“Jesse Quinn,” I repeated. “He was in the fire, too. He was burnt.”

“I don’t know. Sorry,” she said in a curt tone. It really bothered me that she

apologized, but was being insincere about it. What’s the point? Why say sorry if

it’s

not

sincere?

A few minutes later, I was wheeled up to Radiology and I still didn’t know anything

about

Jesse.

***

After sitting through a series of X-rays, I was wheeled back down to the

emergency room. They wanted to keep me there for a few more hours to monitor

me and to take more blood tests to check my oxygen levels in my blood–which

they said were low. I’d have to go through another series of chest X-rays, too. I

had inhaled a lot of smoke. Too much smoke, they said. It all seemed so

insignificant when I thought about what happened to Jesse–his skin’s layers

ripped away. The incomprehensible pain he must have experienced. Why did he

go

into

the

diner?

I couldn’t get anyone to pay attention to me. I wanted to talk to my Nana. But in

the sea of chaos, I was just a part of the daily problems they had to deal with, and

as

problems

go,

mine

were

minor.

It could have been an hour or even longer, I’m not sure. I lay there and watched

as nurses and doctors rushed to patients’ bedsides trying to save their fragile

lives.

The minute I saw the look of frenzied worry on both of their forlorn faces, I sobbed

hysterically. The tragic events and the uncertainty of what had happened to

Jesse,

were

too

much

for

me

to

handle.

Nana leaned into me and gently stroked my face. Her warm, soft fingers felt good

against my clammy skin. “Finn,” she whispered. “Thank God you’re okay.”

My dad took my hand and held it. “We didn’t know what happened to you,” he

said and frowned. “We’ve never been so scared in our lives.”

Having my family with me made it better. I wasn’t as afraid.

“Jesse?”

I

asked.

“Is

he

okay?”

“I don’t know. They only mentioned you, and we came as soon as we got the

call,”

she

answered.

“Jesse

was

hurt?”

“He was in the fire,” I started and then the tears began to fall again. “I don’t know

why he went in there, Nana. It doesn’t make sense. I’m so afraid,” I confessed,

peering

into

her

eyes

and

searching

for

comfort.

“I’ll go see what I can find out,” my dad said. He gave me a “don’t you worry”

expression and walked toward the nurses’ station. It was the first time I’d ever

seen

him

take

charge

of

a

situation.

“I’m

so

worried,”

I

fretted.

“I know, honey. I’m sure Jesse’s going to be fine,” she said.

I think deep down she was just as uncertain as I was. I couldn’t get the image out

of my head–his arm burnt beyond repair. Every time I thought about it, my insides

hurt and my heart ached. Jesse was somewhere in that hospital, in pain, and I

couldn’t

help

him.

I

felt

so

helpless.

No one would tell my father anything. They told him that since he wasn’t related

to Jesse, that meant no disclosure. They didn’t realize that Jesse was a part of

our family and that we had the right to know what was happening to him. I was

desperate to know something and considered getting up off of that bed and

pounding my fists on the table and shouting until I got my way. That’s what they

do in the movies. It always seemed to work. But, I knew that wouldn’t get me

anywhere, and I was still a little weak from the fire. The oxygen was helping. My

breath was becoming more even, and the rattle in my chest had all but subsided.

Nana and my dad continued to sit by my side as I lay there slowly going crazy

wondering when I was going to know something about Jesse and when I would

be released from that awful hospital. As I lay there, I questioned why I ever

intended to be a doctor. I hate hospitals. I hate the smell–the horrid disinfectant

that permeates the stifling sterile air. I hate that everyone is either sick or dying–

that people are taking their last breath in an environment that isn’t welcoming,

that isn’t home. But that was the old Finn–the Finn who wanted to be a doctor

because her mother told her that was what she should be. I wasn’t that Finn

anymore.

“Does Matt know about Jesse?” I asked. Matt was one of the few relatives he had

in Graceville. His Uncle, Matt’s father, was a truck driver and wasn’t in town that

often.

I

had

never

met

him.

“I’m

not

sure,”

Nana

said.

“You should call him,” I said. I realized I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t have

anything

in

my

purse.

All

of

its

contents

were

now

ashes.

“I will, honey. I need to call Sidney, too. I left the house in such a hurry and didn’t

leave

a

note

for

her.”

“Call them both,” I ordered and then watched as her face became crestfallen. I

kicked myself internally for being so inconsiderate and impatient. She was in just

as much shock as I was. Her husband’s diner had just burned to the ground and

it was one of the few things left living that was a part of him. Now it was gone–

with

all

of

its

memories.

“I’m

sorry,”

I

said

remorsefully.

“It’s fine. You’ve had a bad night,” she said to me, giving a half smile. “Pete,” she

said to my father, “get Finn and me a Coke, will you please?”

“Nana, I didn’t mean to be so...,” I started. I hated that I had hurt her.

She interrupted, “Finn, don’t. Let’s just try to get through this night.”

***

Finally, after waiting around for several hours, I was cleared to be released from

the hospital. Nana, Dad, and I filled out the numerous stacks of seemingly useless

paperwork and exited the emergency room in search for the front desk, hoping

that a hospital employee would tell us something about Jesse. To my right was

an open waiting room, covered in olive green carpet and maroon chairs.

Wallpaper with fruit baskets bordered the olive green walls. A large flat screen

television played the news. The room was full of stressed people who were

waiting to hear any updates about their loved ones. Hannah, Meg, Matt, and an

older man with salt and pepper hair and light blue eyes, who must have been

Jesse’s uncle given the resemblance, sat in that crowded waiting room with

stressed

expressions.

“Meg.”

We

held

onto

each

other

tight.

“We

were

so

worried,”

she

said

with

a

sigh

of

relief.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We didn’t know what happened,” Hannah added. They

both huddled around me and held onto me with firm, tight grips, as if this were

the last time we were going to see each other. I flinched, feeling a little smothered.

They both let go of me. “Finn, oh my gosh, we saw the diner and thought the

worst,”

Meg

said

with

a

sad

expression.

“I’m fine,” I lied, giving them a plastic smile. Physically I was better. Mentally, I

was

a

mess.

“What

happened?”

Meg

asked.

“How

did

it

start?”

Hannah

asked.

I felt surrounded. I was being inundated with questions that I wasn’t prepared to

answer. I didn’t want to tell them how the fire started. I didn’t want to relive that

moment.

I

just

wanted

to

know

about

Jesse.

“Has anyone heard anything about Jesse?” I interrupted them.

“They haven’t told us much of anything,” Matt answered in a frustrated tone.

“We’ve only asked them a million times,” he said with annoyance and loud

enough for the hospital employee to hear. He glared at her. Hannah touched him