| |
Earl (Earl & Wilma) Saturday, 6:40 p.m.
Within minutes of Julie’s call, we had cop cars and emergency vehicles everywhere. The EMTs found the empty pill bottle, so they figured out what pills Wilma had been forced to take. “We’ll get them out of her system,” a woman who didn’t look old enough to vote assured me.
“Will she be okay then?”
“It hasn’t been long, so if we get her stomach pumped, she should be fine.” She put a hand on my arm. “It’s a good thing you got here when you did.”
I can’t tell you what it’s like to see the person you’ve spent most of your life with pale and still on a gurney. It was nice of the girl to say Wilma would be okay, but that’s the kind of thing those people always say. “Can I ride with her?”
“Of course. We’ll let you know when we’ve got her ready to go, but the police would like a word with you.”
The officer wanted to know what had happened, but I couldn’t tell him much. I didn’t know who the guys were or why Wilma had gone into Al’s place. In the end, the cop wrote down my name and where I’d be, and I climbed into the ambulance with Wilma. Looking worried, Julie promised she and Ron would follow as soon as possible. Then the doors closed, and we were off.
