Matters of Faith by Kristy Kiernan

be Meghan, telling her it was going to be okay.
    The driver left her ministrations of Ada as another EMT from the fire truck took over, and as they slid the stretcher in Cal handed me up into the back, saying, “I’ll meet you there,” before the doors closed and the ambulance raced off, sirens, finally, blessedly, going now.
    There was less room in the ambulance than I would have thought, and I made myself as small as I could while they continued to work on Meghan and talked to the hospital on their radio. I gingerly snaked my hand onto her ankle, the only place I could reach, the only area of her bloated body they didn’t seem to be working on.
    â€œIs she breathing?” I finally asked, my voice breaking on the words.
    â€œWe have a pulse,” the paramedic nearest me said. “Right now we have to be thankful for that. They’re ready for us, we’re almost there.”
    As we pulled into the emergency room drive there was a sea of people in green and blue scrubs waiting, and they swarmed over her and ran her in through the automatic doors with the paramedics while a nurse guided me behind them and asked me about Meghan’s medical conditions.
    I lost sight of her and answered rapid-fire questions as Cal finally arrived, Marshall padding silently behind him, Ada limping ten paces behind him, blood running down her leg. A nurse rushed over to her and she was led away while Cal joined me. Marshall hung back, silent, his sunglasses still on.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Cal asked, his voice hoarse. “Where is she?”
    â€œThey’re doing everything they can for her right now,” the nurse answered soothingly. Cal was in no mood to be soothed, and he grasped me by the upper arm and started down the hall, the nurse hurrying to keep up.
    â€œWhere is she?” he asked when the hallway split.
    â€œMr. Tobias, please, let me see what’s happening and I’ll be right out to tell you,” the nurse said. “There’s a private room right here. Please, have a seat, I’ll be right back, I promise.”
    Cal looked in the open door of the room, then looked at the nurse. “If you’re not back in five minutes to tell me what’s going on with my daughter, I’m turning this hospital upside down.”
    â€œCal,” I cautioned him. “They’re doing everything they can.” And was immediately ashamed. I should have been turning the hospital upside down. But I needed to follow the rules, be courteous. If I did, if I did everything right, everything would be okay. Let the doctors work, let the nurses work, let the drugs work. Stay calm, cooperate, stay calm.
    â€œGo!” he said, and the nurse went, flying on her soft-soled shoes. Cal finally let go of my arm and stepped into the waiting room, falling heavily into one of the low, burgundy chairs. A muted TV flashed news across the screen in the corner. I beckoned to Marshall, still watching us silently from the corridor, and he slowly joined me, following me into the room and sitting in the chair next to mine.
    â€œWhere’s Ada?” I asked, suddenly remembering her bloody legs. He shook his head. “What happened, honey? Did Meghan get stung?” He shook his head again, and Cal and I exchanged glances.
    â€œWhat happened, Marshall?” Cal asked.
    Marshall looked at his father and started to shake his head again, but Cal stood and, covering the space between them in a split second, ripped the sunglasses from Marshall’s face. I flinched and nearly cautioned Cal again, but this time I was more afraid of Cal than of not being courteous, and my hand landed on Marshall’s arm instead, keeping him from shrinking away as his father loomed over him. “What the hell happened, Marshall?” Cal said.
    â€œI—I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know. It was okay, I mean, we, Ada, I mean—”
    â€œSlow down,” I said.