WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THAT WENT BY IN A WHIRL.I jumped down the stairs to try to hold Mary’s head and stop all the blood from coming out. Conrad ran up, in his white pants, white coat, and shirt, and ripped off his coat, buttons popping, to wrap it around Mary. His coat was soaked red before I could blink my eyes.

Darnell and Tony ran down the stairs. Mrs. Byrne came running up to all of us, phone to her ear. She told Darnell, “Help me lift Mary’s head, gently, and put it on my sweater.” Then she lifted her blue sweater over her head, wrapped it in a ball, and put it under Mary’s head.

“Yes, breathing,” I heard Mrs. Byrne say into the phone. “But the eyes are flat.”

The blood was like a lake. I felt sick. Mrs. Byrne told me, in a low voice, “Hold on to her hand, Sally. Squeeze Mary’s hand.”

I found Mary’s fingers with mine and squeezed. I pressed the palm of my hand into her palm. I told Mary, “Mary, I love you. Mary, I’ll help you. I’ll do anything, Mary.…”

Mary just gurgled. A man and a woman in blue uniforms ran up the stairs, looked into Mary’s eyes, and put a mask over her nose and mouth. I heard a hiss of air. The man and woman mumbled numbers.

“I love you, Mary,” I said again. “Don’t leave, Mary.”

The man and woman in blue took Mary down the stairs. Mrs. Byrne said that I couldn’t come along, then put her arms around me and the next I knew we were in a taxicab.

All I could say was “I was in another cab just a few days ago.”

The hospital was close. It was just next to the park. I told Mrs. Byrne, “Mary just fell. She didn’t even trip. It was like…”

“I know, dear,” said Mrs. Byrne.

We went up to the desk, where Mrs. Byrne talked to the people while I sat down. I saw a man in the waiting room with his hand wrapped in a shirt. I saw a woman asleep on her elbow. And I saw a man who held his sides and coughed so hard into his knees that I thought his head might come off. Some doors opened, and Conrad ran in—really, he ran in—and I saw that Mary’s blood was spattered on his pants and shoes, too. But he had put a brown coat over his stained white shirt.

Conrad put his arms around me.

“Sal Gal. Sallie Gallie.”

Then Conrad went over to Mrs. Byrne and put his arms around her, too. I was frightened, and Conrad turned around to me, smiled, and raised his thumb.

The man coughed into his knees again. The woman began to snore into her elbow.

“I didn’t mean to hurt Mary,” I said out loud, and began to cry. Conrad ran back, and then so did Mrs. Byrne. She put an arm around me.

“You didn’t hurt Mary, Sally,” she said. “Something went off in Mary’s head. They call it a stroke, usually. That’s why she fell. That’s why she got hurt. All that—blood was from when she fell because of the stroke,” she said softly. “You had nothing to do with what happened to Mary.”

“You helped her with that scream, Sal Gal,” said Conrad. “You helped by holding her hand.”

But I still cried until my tears ran out and I felt them dry up on my face.

After a while, a doctor came out to the desk—she had a white mask pulled down over her throat and wore a light green coat and soft, squeaky shoes—and came over to where we sat when someone behind the desk pointed us out.

“You’re here with Miss Gerrity?” she asked. “Mary Gerrity?”

Mrs. Byrne introduced us all, reaching over to squeeze my arm as she said my name and added, “Mary’s very good friend. She was with her when—it happened.”

“Ah. Well, I’m Dr. Ramasamy,” said the doctor. “Mary is stabilized.” I saw Mrs. Byrne sit back and let out a long breath. “She’s had what we call a stroke. Blood was cut off in her brain. She’s breathing fine now—pretty well, actually—and we’ll just have to wait to see. To see how she is. Eventually.”

“Can I see her?” I asked.

“Maybe tomorrow,” said the doctor. “Or soon, anyway. She’s resting now. We want to keep her that way. Rest and sleep may help Mary get better.”

“We’re in the same room,” I told the doctor. “Mary rests better if I’m there.” The doctor just made a kind face. So I asked, “When will she get better?”

“Well, she’s better now,” said the doctor. “Better than when she got here. But she’s bleeding inside. That has to stop. She’s swelling inside. Inside her head. That swelling has to go down. It takes time. There’s no way to make it go quickly. Then we’ll see how she is, Miss—?”

“Miyake,” said Mrs. Byrne.

“Sal Gal,” I told the doctor.

“I’m Pari,” said the doctor with a slow smile. “A lot of people just can’t get ‘Ramasamy’ out of their mouths. I answer to Sammy, too.”

Dr. Sammy said she had to go back into the emergency room to help take care of Mary and other people who were sick.

“There’s not much you can do for Mary out here,” she told us. “You might want to go back to your Sunny-place.”

“Sunnyside Plaza,” I told her. “But what if Mary wakes up and I’m not here?”

Dr. Sammy looked at Mrs. Byrne and Mrs. Byrne looked at me.

“They’ll call us. But really, it’s best for Mary if she just sleeps.”

“I can wait for her to wake up, can’t I?”

“Conrad needs your help for lunch,” said Mrs. Byrne.

“We’ll be okay for lunch,” said Conrad. “Darney, Tony, and Pilar.”

“What if Mary needs my help?”

“That’s why doctors and nurses are here,” said Mrs. Byrne.

“But what if she needs me to hold her hand?” I said. “Like… like she did before…”

I felt myself crying again—long, hot drips and dribbles on my cheeks and chin. Dr. Ramasamy looked at all of us and said, “If you sit out here for a little while, Sal Gal, I’ll come out now and then to keep an eye on you. Have you had breakfast?”

I shook my head no.

“I think we can get you some cereal.”

“She likes Cheerios,” Conrad told her.

“I’ll stay a while longer, Sal,” said Mrs. Byrne. “If you will.”

A nice nurse brought me some Cheerios, and a glass of milk, while Conrad went back to Sunnyside Plaza, and Dr. Sammy went back through a door on the other side to take care of Mary, and I sat in the long room with the woman asleep on her arm and the man coughing into his knees, and lots of beeps and lights and voices crackling and gurgling numbers and names of doctors and nurses, and “Code Blue,” or “Code Yellow,” in the hard green hallways. The nurses watched me but were busy.

“I’m here, Mary,” I murmured to myself. “Right here for you.”

I waited for a while, ate my Cheerios, and watched people come and go. Mrs. Byrne called lots of people and talked in a low voice. Sometimes she got up and walked around to talk. There was a screen on all the time, right over our heads. I learned that there was a backup on the Stevenson. May cause flushing, headaches, and muscle pain. Where can you find the best pork jibarito sandwich? We’ll hear from you! Calls from the IRS may be a scam! “Tom, I’m glad to see you, I’m worried about Ludmilla.” “Ludmilla? But I saw her just yesterday.…” The Board of Trade opened the same year as the Mexican-American War. Can anti-inflammatories treat Alzheimer’s? We put the good in Good Morning! Use only as directed. Overnight temperatures will drop. Say bye-bye to wrinkles.

The doors whooshed open once again, and then Esther Rivas whooshed in, too.

She saw me in the chair, next to another chair with my empty bowl of Cheerios, and walked over in just a few long steps and leaned down to put her arms around my shoulders.

“Sal Gal,” said Esther Rivas.

“Mary,” I began, and started to cry again. It seemed that as soon as I ran out of tears, I’d save up some more, and then they’d overflow.

“I know,” said Esther. She lifted up the empty bowl from the chair next to mine and sat down.

“I heard. You helped her. You, Darnell, Tony. Conrad. You—all of you—did good.”

The bright lights got painful through the drops in my eyes, so I closed my eyes and put my head against Esther Rivas’s shoulder. It was nice to smell roses and jasmine.

“I’m going to see the doctor here, Sally,” she told me.

“Dr. Pari,” I said.

“Maybe. Yes,” said Esther. “Pari Ramasamy. You are always learning, aren’t you, Sal Gal? Always paying attention. Taking things in, making notes. And that’s why I want to ask you something. We—Detective Bridges and I—need your help.”

I lifted my head from Esther’s shoulder. Mrs. Byrne had come over.

“Laurence. Julius,” Esther said. “They died. And now, Mary.”

“She’s not dead!” I said, and began to cry again. “Mary’s not dead!”

Mrs. Byrne took hold of me, and Esther said, “No, she’s not. Let’s hope for the best. But you see, that’s a lot to happen in Sunnyside Plaza in just a few weeks,” said Esther. “One life lost—that happens. A second person—could be. But when Mrs. Byrne called us about Mary…”

Esther had problems speaking, too. She nodded at Mrs. Byrne.

“Well, that’s just a lot.” She was able to get it out finally. “And that’s why we need you, Sal. You and your friends.”

“I’ll do anything to help Mary,” I told her. “I’ll do anything to help you.”

“And Detective Bridges,” Mrs. Byrne said as she smiled.

“Yes, maybe,” I told Esther, and smiled back.

Esther leaned in even closer.

“I need you to think,” she told me. “To look around Sunnyside. To try to remember. Anything. Anything unusual, or out of place. Or sometimes, things you look at every day, but don’t really look at, because you look at them every day, and they don’t seem unusual. So sometimes, you don’t really see them. I need you and your friends to think about that, too. So we can figure out if something is going on at Sunnyside Plaza. If something there…”

Esther stopped and leaned in even a little closer.

“…someone there… or from outside who comes there… has done something that’s not good. We have to find that out. We have to find that out soon. Sunnyside Plaza is a wonderful place, Sal Gal,” Esther said. “But if these things happen and we can’t find out why…”

Her voice ran out again, and it was a moment before Esther could find it to speak.

Mrs. Byrne had wet eyes, like a street after rain, and just said, “Well, the authorities will have to do something.”

I didn’t know that word.

“The city. The state. The police,” Esther explained. “Sunnyside Plaza is a wonderful place, Sal. But if it’s not safe for people…”

Esther Rivas’s voice ran out again.

“My mother would have to come get me,” I told her, and Mrs. Byrne squeezed my shoulder very tightly. She smiled again, straight into my eyes.

“Maybe,” she said softly.

Esther stayed a little longer, but then Detective Bridges called and she had to leave. On the big, bright screen above, I saw a man get rid of dandruff, and a woman ride over a highway in a new red truck with a V8 engine. I watched a man melt marshmallows and milk chocolate over graham crackers in a red pot, and pop it all onto a plate with no mess, no fuss, and no messy cleanup, fast, fast, fast, like the pill you take for headaches and stomachaches. Works fast on tough stains. May cause constipation and nausea. Spicy, smooth, and satisfying.