As Evan slowly navigated the hospital parking lot, approaching every speed bump with the caution. His eyes darted around, scanning for an empty space like a hawk hunting for its next meal.
"Damn! This place is jam-packed! Where the hell am I supposed to park?" he grumbled, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Just pull up to the entrance!" his mom shouted from the backseat, her tone a mix of exasperation and urgency.
Evan sighed, softly cranking the wheel toward the entrance, only to be met by a sea of cars all fighting for the same spot. It was like a scene from a parking lot apocalypse. With no other choice and a line of impatient drivers forming behind him, Evan threw open the car door and bolted toward the hospital entrance.
Inside, the atmosphere was chaotic. The air was thick with the sounds of moans, groans, and the occasional wail of someone in distress. Nurses and front desk representatives were dashing about, each one looking more frazzled than the last. The front desk staff member, her hair a wild mess and cheeks flushed, seemed on the verge of a breakdown as she faced a line of at least thirty people, all impatiently waiting.
Evan tried to catch the attention of a nurse rushing past him. "Hey, ma'am, I-" But she didn't even break her stride. Did she not hear him, or was she just ignoring him?
He tried again and again. Each attempt was met with the same result-nothing but a blur of scrubs and determination. Frustration simmered until he finally grabbed one of the nurses by the shoulder, desperation spilling over. "Ma'am, can you PLEASE help me? My brother and my nephew are in my truck with serious head and neck wounds! They need medical attention, like, NOW!"
She gently removed his hand, her expression sympathetic yet firm. "I understand, and I'm truly sorry, but I have a critical patient I need to see right away. Our staff will attend to you as soon as possible."
Evan felt his heart race as she began to walk away. "It's a child, ma'am! Do you have no sympathy?"
She turned, her expression hardening. "With all due respect, I have a newborn with a head injury and a mother on life support. Worst-case scenario? If the baby survives, he might not have a mother. If the mother survives, she might not have her child. I understand your desperation, but please don't insult me by saying I lack sympathy. If you want, I can take you to the father in the waiting room, who's anxiously awaiting news about his wife and newborn. You can explain to him why you think you should cut in front of him."
Evan was left speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I... I'm sorry..."
Before he could finish, she was gone, her pace quickening as she melded back into the chaos.
Taking a moment to gather himself, Evan realized the hospital was a jungle of suffering. He glanced around and noticed an elderly man in front of him, his bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights and a long, scruffy beard that reeked of alcohol and cigar smoke. The man had a makeshift sling on his arm, and Evan couldn't help but ask, "What happened? An earthquake?"
"No shit, Sherlock," the old man replied, his raspy voice dripping with sarcasm.
"In Florida? That's insane!" Evan exclaimed, half-amused.
"Yup," the old man grunted, clearly not in the mood for small talk.
Evan scanned the waiting area, feeling the weight of the situation. He turned back to the man. "Sir, do you think I could-"
"Don't think so, pal," the old man interrupted, his eyes narrowing.
"Please, if you could just-"
"What makes you so special that you think you can cut ahead of me? Huh, buddy?" he shot back, twisting around, the smell of alcohol and cigars hitting Evan like a brick wall.
The old man poked Evan in the chest. "Look at you, young buck-not a scratch on ya. What are you even doing here?"
Evan, feeling his blood start to boil, slapped the old man's finger away. "Look, it's not me! My brother and nephew are outside! They got hit in the head-"
"Yeah, well, they ain't the only ones hurting," the old man retorted.
Evan snapped, "Hey, you old fart! My brother is unconscious and bleeding out, and my ten-year-old nephew is in the same damn boat! I think you've had enough beer to numb the pain in your arm long enough to let a kid with a serious head injury go ahead of you, you piece of old shit!"
The old man paused, turning slowly to face Evan, his blank expression almost comical. Evan felt a mix of anger and fear-what if this turned into a physical altercation right here in the hospital?
And then it happened. The old man erupted into a fit of raspy laughter, his body shaking as he howled, "BAHAHAHAAAA! Well, shit, son! I think you're right, hahaha!" He coughed violently, a smoker's cough that echoed through the waiting area, then pulled out a flask and took a swig as if to wash down the laughter. "I probably don't have much longer on this earth anyway. Hell, let that little boy go ahead of this old turd!"
He stepped aside, but not without a sly comment. "Shit, son, you look like you need some of this more than I do. And uh, not beer, by the way. it's whiskey." he offered, holding out the flask.
"N-no thank you," Evan replied, politely declining, though a part of him found the offer strangely tempting.
A few people nearby had caught wind of the heated argument between Evan and the bald old man. A younger man nursing a similar arm injury shot Evan an amused look, but letting him pass. While two women-one with a heavily bandaged leg and the other with gauze covering her eye-exchanged glances that hinted at a mix of fear and empathy, also letting him pass. Most bystanders, though, regarded Evan with understanding, allowing him to cut ahead in line.
Despite the small victories, Evan soon realized that even after cutting in front of at least eight people, there were still more than twenty ahead of him. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his eyes landing on a short woman with vibrant red hair, an overwhelming scent of cherry blossom wafting off her. She rocked back and forth impatiently, understandably so.
Just as he was about to tap her on the shoulder to repeat his earlier plea for help, a chilling realization struck him. Peering over the woman's shoulder, he caught sight of something nestled in her arms.
"Oh God, is that... a baby?" he thought, dread pooling in his stomach.
He leaned in slightly and confirmed his fears-a tiny baby tightly wrapped in a blanket, with gauze encircling its head, crimson patches shyly peeking through the white fabric.
"Oh, dear Lord," he accidentally murmured aloud, the weight of the moment crashing down on him as the nurse's earlier words about the mother and baby on life support echoed in his mind.
The woman turned around, her big blue eyes brimming with tears, the lipstick smeared across her lips and eyeliner running down her cheeks. "M-my baby," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I was walking down the steps when it happened. I tried to keep my balance, but... I fell on top of him. I... I..." Her words trailed off as she broke down into sobs.
Evan's heart ached for her. "Oh my goodness," was all he could manage to say, instinctively placing a hand on her back, his own troubles momentarily forgotten. He glanced ahead at the long line and thought, *This woman needs medical attention right now.*
Raising his voice, he shouted to everyone in the vicinity, including the front desk representatives, "THIS WOMAN HAS A BABY WITH A SERIOUS HEAD INJURY! SHE NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION NOW! RIGHT NOW!" The room fell silent, heads turning in his direction. The woman looked at him, a mix of grateful shock washing over her as she implored the crowd, "Please! My baby!"
One by one, the line began to part like the Red Sea. Evan guided her forward, a firm hand pressed against her back, trying to maintain a sense of urgency and purpose. Yet, as he advanced, a nagging thought invaded his mind-*Am I skipping ahead, taking advantage of the situation?* But he shook it off, focusing on the priority at hand. "Please, everyone, make way! The young are top priority!"
They reached the front desk, where the administrator, wide-eyed and flustered, immediately called for a doctor. Within minutes, the woman and her baby were handed a clipboard with paperwork while whisked away to the other side of the hospital, the entire waiting area watching in silence.
Suddenly, a voice shouted from behind, "Hey! You can't skip the lin-" But before the complaint could fully form, Evan's voice rang out, drowning it out. "I HAVE A FATHER WITH SEVERE TRAUMA TO HIS HEAD AND NECK, AND A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY WHO IS BLEEDING PROFUSELY! I NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION-RIGHT NOW!"
"Okay, sir," the desk administrator stammered, her hands trembling as she handed him a thick packet on a clipboard. "If you could please fill this out..."
Evan's blood began to boil as he glanced down at the paperwork, feeling the heat rise in his chest. "ARE YOU SHITTING ME? I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! NONE OF US HAVE TIME FOR THIS! I HAVE A CHILD BLEEDING OUT OF THE HEAD! CAN'T THIS BE DONE LATER?!?"
"I... I'm s-sorry, sir, it's protocol," she stuttered, her face flushed with panic, looking as if she might faint at any moment.
Just as the corners of his vision began to darken, a tight grip on his shoulder brought him back. He turned to find the familiar face of the nurse he had encountered earlier, the one who had been with the mother and baby in critical condition.
"Do they need a stretcher?" she asked, urgency lacing her voice.
"Yes!" Evan exclaimed, relief flooding through him.
"WE NEED TWO STRETCHERS!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"Give me that!" With a swift motion, she snatched the paperwork and clipboard from him, letting the pen fall to the floor.
Moments later, two male nurses arrived with stretchers instructing them, "Take them to the room where the paperwork will be waiting" With a quick nod of thanks to the front desk administrator for her hard work, she spun on her heel and dashed away.
Evan half-ran behind her, the two male nurses following closely as they all raced to the truck. As he rounded the corner to the bed of the truck, he stopped dead in his tracks, a wave of disbelief washing over him.
There, sitting up against the truck's side, was his nephew, wide-eyed and alert.
"OH THANK GOD, FINALLY!" his mother exclaimed, her voice a mix of joy and relief. "Essaya is awake!"
"Essi-"
"Is the adult male the one with the neck injury?" one of the male nurses interrupted, his tone brisk but focused.
"Y-yes," Evan stammered, the urgency of the moment tightening his chest.
"Okay, let's load him up first. Be extra careful," the nurse instructed, his partner nodding in agreement. Together, they gently lifted Donovan onto the stretcher, their movements precise and practiced, as if they were handling fragile cargo.
"Follow us," they told Evan and his mother, after loading up Essiya leading them back into the bustling chaos of the hospital.
As they re-entered the crowded waiting area, Evan felt his mother shudder beside him. "Oh my goodness, Evan, we need to pray for these people. It's absolutely jam-packed!"
"Yeah," he replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I basically had to make a fool of myself to get us where we are now. If I hadn't, we would still be halfway through that long line."
As they passed the ever-growing queue, Evan caught sight of the old bald man again. Their eyes met, and the man chuckled softly, raising his flask in a mock toast before taking another swig. Evan couldn't help but nod back, a sense of camaraderie forming in the chaos.
Finally, they reached their designated room. One of the male nurses swung the door open, ushering Evan and his mother inside just as Donovan was wheeled away to another part of the hospital.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the noise of the wild hospital felt slightly muffled, but the tension still hung thick in the air. "Okay, now thats everybody is slightly relaxed," the nurse said, placing Essiya on the examination table as he gently moved the stretcher out of they way. "I'd like to say the doctor will be with you shortly. But as you can see, we are extremely overwhelmed and understaffed. Many of our employees have also been hurt. All I can say is the doctor will be with you as soon as possible. In the meantime, please fill out this packet; it might help the process move a little faster."
"Okay, thank you," Evan and his mother replied in almost perfect unison, their voices tinged with anxious hope.
Once the nurse left and closed the door behind him, Evan picked up the clipboard, ready to tackle the paperwork. As he began to fill it out, his mother walked over, kneeling beside Isaiah to comfort him, her voice soft as she began to pray.
As Evan focused on the forms, he tilted his head back, running a hand through his hair. Suddenly, a strong whiff of body odor assaulted his senses. *Looks like I forgot to put on deodorant,* he thought, grimacing at the realization.
"Gosh darn it!" his mother exclaimed, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"What?" Evan asked, momentarily distracted.
"I forgot my purse and my phone! I wanted to call some of our family to make sure they're okay."
"I think I brought mine," Evan said, reaching into his pocket, only to find it empty. "Damn it! I must have left it in the truck. I'll be right back."
"Okay, honey," she replied, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.
As he turned to leave the room, the weight of the situation once again pressed down on him, hearing the chaos on the hospital. but he knew he had to keep moving.
Closing the door behind him he turned to make his way to the exit but suddenly he felt someone Forcibly wrapping their arms around him, stopping him from leaving.