Till My Last Breath

Fingering the fabric and tiny pearl buttons down my front, I was shocked to see myself in a dress. Good grief, what am I wearing? Disbelieving, I shook my head as I frantically looked around for anyone, and not just my grandfather. Half expecting a reasonable answer, from no one, in particular, I turned in a tight circle holding the skirt out and yelled, “Okay, people! Help me out here.” Through rushed speech, I yelled, “I don’t do calico.”

I recalled my grandfather appearing the moment I died, telling me he was taking me home with him. Then something about me being needed. Is this his home? Yelling into the early morning sky, “Is anyone at least going to tell me where I am?”

A nervous laugh escaped through my dry cracked lips. “I look like something out of Little House on the Prairie.” Closing my eyes, I silently sent a prayer heavenward. Please, God, if you’re listening, now’s the time I could use a little help. I need to find a way to get home. Where ever that may be.

Moving forward, something sharp pinched my toes. Pulling up my dress, and glancing down, gone were my comfortable clogs. In their place was a pair of narrow pointed high top button boots. “Really?” Was all I managed to say before dropping the fabric in frustration.

Cursing, “This isn’t funny anymore, old man.” Vexed, I turned my body in circles, raising fisted hands heavenward, “I demand to know what’s going on. Now!” As if I could will my grandfather to reappear, I continued with my tirade. My parents would not be pleased by my actions. But, I was dead after all.

No one answered. I was alone. Letting out a huff, I walked in the direction of the darkened building, noting a door half off its hinges. The place looked deserted. Beyond my wildest imagination, I knew I was no longer in my beloved Seattle.

Holding onto the door frame with both hands, I dropped my head forward, sighing heavily. Shuffling one foot in front of the other, I stood within the cabin’s entrance when the stench of mold and rodent feces made me cough. “Good heavens!” I needed fresh air. Certainly, this can’t be what my grandfather meant by home?

“Oh! I need to find that man and give him a piece of my mind. What was he thinking when he dropped me into this place?” Once outside, I was finally able to take in deep cleansing breaths. My main focus now needed to be on survival, and deal with the what and whys later. With new resolve, I straightened my shoulders and stepped back into the darkened building, calling out, “Hello, anybody in here?” My voice echoed through the small room as I caught the lingering scent of bacon and beans. Despite my nausea, my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Was that yesterday?

Guided only by the light of the rising sun, I moved cautiously forward, taking short steps to my left, bumping into something hard. “Ouch! If I wasn’t already dead, this place would kill me.” Rubbing my hip with one hand while reaching out with my other, I came in contact with a table that wobbled under my touch. Ha-Choo! Ha-Choo! Not having a tissue, I picked up a corner of my dress and wiped my nose. Everything I touched sent moldy plumes into the air.

Caught in the light streaming through a gap in the roof, was the corner of a make-shift bed covered with a faded wedding ring quilt. Running my hand over its tattered pieces, the hairs on my arm stood up as feather-like legs crawled up my arm. “Ewe!” Screaming, I recoiled, shaking it off. “I don’t even want to know what that was.” Sweeping my hands down both sleeves, I yelled out to absent ears, “Can this day get any worse?”

With each step I took crossing to the cabin’s only window, my footsteps churned up dust moats, sending them floating through the air. Leaning out the opening, I inhaled the cool breeze. Running a hand down my exposed throat, I enjoyed the moments of fresh air caressing me. Lost in my thoughts, I heard a low moan. Waiting silently, I realized it was my imagination playing tricks on me? Then I heard it again. Leaning farther out, I looked from side to side seeing nothing. Just as I was bringing my head back in, another, yet louder moan pierced the silence. It was coming from beneath the window. Looking down, I recognized the silhouette of a body slumped against the cabin wall.

Screeching, I almost fell through the window. “Oh, dear God.” Running back through the darkness towards the door, I tripped on my skirts, falling to my knees, cursing. Catching my breath, I stood up, holding my dress higher and continued running around the outside of the cabin. How I managed to make it without falling again was surely Divine Providence. Sinking next to the body, I ignored the pain of jagged rocks penetrating my already tender knees.

My heart thumped wildly in my chest, making it hard to swallow. Salty beads of sweat burned my eyes, and I wiped them with the back of my hand. “Focus, Emily, you know what to do.”

My hands raced over the warm body, searching upwards towards the jugular for the pulsing sign of life. Weak as it was, it was there. “Thank you, God.” Awareness dawned, and I knew that before me lay the victim of the gunshots I’d heard earlier.

You’ve got this girl. I always whispered to myself during an emergency. It helped me remain calm. Unfortunately, I didn’t hold out much hope of that now. I began running my hands frantically from head to toe to assess for injuries, not surprised when I came in contact with warm sticky moisture. The darkness from the shade of the building made it difficult for me to see the face of who lay before me. Thankfully, sunlight would soon peek over the hills, offering a better view of how much blood he’d lost.

As the minutes ticked by, his skin became cool and clammy under my touch. Definitely, not a good sign. He was in shock. If I could save him, and that was a big if, it was going to be one tough fight. I focused on his chest and abdomen, where major organs lay encased behind fragile tissue. Without scissors, I ripped the buttons of his vest and shirt free from their bondage, sending them flying through the air. “God, please help me,” I was doing a lot of praying lately. Despite the heartaches of my past, I still believed in the power of prayer. What else did I have at this point? Now, I just hoped He heard me loud and clear.

Trying not to panic, a surging power rushed through my veins, urging me on. Used to working with a team at lightning speed, I desperately needed more hands. But, it was just a scared me alone trying to save a man’s life. Moving my hands back up to his chest, I pulled out a dirty blood-soaked towel—his desperate attempt at staunching the flow of his own blood.

Feeling along his scapula, I felt a perforating wound. Grateful, I wouldn’t have to go probing for that bullet since the shot had been a through and through. His belly wound was a different story. Although far enough to his side that it didn’t appear to have hit any major organs, there was no exit wound. The bullet remained inside, and I would have to remove it before sepsis set in. Even so, I still might not be able to save him, given the primitive and unsterile surroundings.

Belly wounds could become deadly depending on the trajectory of the bullet once it entered the body. I wasn’t complaining now about the extra fabric as I ripped my petticoats into strips. Folding the cloth into a thick pad, I placed it over his abdomen and firmly applied pressure. Just as I did, he let out a pitiful moan. “Stop . . . leave me alone.” His hands moved futilely against mine as he slumped deeper into the gravel.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, continuing to apply pressure. “I have to press hard to stop the bleeding.”

“No . . . stop,” he moaned louder. “Get away from me. Just let me die.”

Grasping his hand, I placed it on his chest while holding on. “Please. You have to stop fighting me!” I didn’t mean to be harsh, but I had no choice. Looking heavenward again for guidance, I stared at the rising sun. “Lord, I don’t know where I am, but I now know why I’m here. I need your help keeping this man alive!” After remaining stoic for far too long, I let my tears run unbidden down my face. “Please, show me how to save this man.”

Despite the coolness of the early morning, sweat ran between my breasts and anger coursed through my veins. “I’m a doctor for heaven’s sake. I should be able to help this man.”

“Am I dead?” came his faint question.

“What?” Suddenly, my world shifted with those three words. I realized then, I needed to do everything within my power to save this man’s life, despite my friends not being able to save mine. So, I kept talking while gently running my hand over the side of his face to calm him. “No. No, of course, you’re not dead,” I answered, brushing back a lock of unruly dark curly hair that covered his right eye. “You’re here with me.” Wherever that might be? Leaning in close to his face, I said, “I’m here to take care of you.”

I could have sworn the right side of the man’s lips rose up in a feeble attempt to smile. I felt a strange stirring deep within my heart as I gazed down at the life I held in my hands, hoping my twenty-first-century skills could save a man in 1880.