If this is your first time reading part of my unpublished novel, please jump back every Monday until you get to Chapter 1.
Chapter Eight – Just Waiting
|Dinnertime, 2006. Me, Scout, Sport and Crafty|
We stayed with different neighbors until Aunt Julie got off work and came over to stay with us. Then we went home and the cleaning began. The paramedics had made a big mess with muddy boots and plastic and stuff. Not that it was all that clean before, but it was a relief to get rid of some of the reminders of what had happened to Kiy.
We still hadn’t heard anything from my parents. We knew they were at the hospital because Mom had called one of the paramedics while they were waiting for the helicopter. We kind of figured that no news was good news. If she had died, we would have heard about it already.
One hour later, Grandma arrived. Her drive normally takes two hours without construction, but it only took her one and a half hours this time. Aunt Julie and Uncle Mike left and we waited with Grandma for a call from Mom and Dad.
That call didn’t come until nearly dinnertime. When I heard Mom’s voice on the other end of the line, all I could say was, “I’m so sorry, Mom,” then the tears just started to pour out of me.
Mom was crying too. “Kira,” she choked out, “It’s not your fault or Neal’s fault, or Nathan’s fault. Nathan didn’t know. He was just trying to help.”
I sobbed quietly for a minute, then I managed. “Did Kiy die?”
Mom sighed. “No. They moved her to the Intensive Care Unit and they have her hooked to all kinds of machines. She’s still very cold and even if they get her warmed up without damaging her internal organs or giving her a raging fever, she could still have brain damage or physical damage.”
Mom was actually very calm as she told me all these things that could go wrong. “Do you think she’ll be OK?” I pleaded.
“I do,” whispered Mom. “I just feel like everything will be OK.” After I hung up, I felt better too, but I was worried. It still sounded like we needed a miracle.
The neighbors were worried too. They kept coming over with all kinds of treats and goodies and hugs. They cried a little with us and tried to make us feel better. Then I helped Kinsey and Kiyna finish wrapping their presents. We cried again as we put Kiy’s presents under the tree. We didn’t know if she would ever get to open them or play with them. Kinsey and Kiyna wondered what Santa would do with all of her toys if she never came home. We hugged each other and cried some more. If Kiy died, how would we ever celebrate Christmas again?