“MO-OM! COME QUICK!” RUDY CRIED. “HARPER DOESN’T FEEL GOOD!”
“I’m coming!” Cora called back, throwing off her covers and almost knocking over her bedside lamp as she tried to find her glasses. She pulled her robe around her, hurried down the hall, and found Harper curled up in a tight ball, moaning.
She knelt next to her. “Baby, what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know,” Harper whimpered. “My whole chest hurts.”
“Can you straighten out and lay on your back?”
“Noo,” she moaned. “It hurts too much.”
Cora’s heart pounded. “Rudy, get the phone!”
Rudy hurried down the hall and came back with the phone, and Cora dialed 911. “Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance—I have a little girl with chest pains. . . . Yes, she’s ten years old. . . .”
“Nine,” mumbled Harper.
“What? Yes . . . no, nine.”
“I can’t breathe,” Harper cried. “Please help. . . .”
“She’s having trouble breathing!” Cora cried. “Oh, Lord, send someone right now!” She gave them her address, looked up, and saw her boys standing in the doorway, their faces drawn and frightened.
“Mama, what’s wrong with Harper?” Joe asked softly.
“She doesn’t feel good, baby.”
She turned to Frank. “Go wait outside and show them where we are.”
Frank hurried outside. He could already hear the siren whining in the distance.
“It’s all right, baby,” Cora soothed, rubbing Harper’s back. “They’re almost here.”
Frank waved to the ambulance driver and he stopped behind Cora’s car. Two EMTs hopped out, and while one hurried inside, the second one unloaded a stretcher. It was raining, and the red and white lights splashed eerily across the brick buildings, shining on the curious faces peering around curtains and people stepping out into the rain to watch the commotion. Moments later, the EMTs bumped the stretcher out to the ambulance with Cora hurrying along beside. Harper reached out her hand, her eyes wild with fear.
“Cora!” she cried, but her voice, muffled by an oxygen mask, was barely audible.
“I’m comin’, baby. I’m comin’,” Cora said, squeezing her hand. She let go as the stretcher was lifted into the back of the ambulance.
Just then, Janelle Williams, Cora’s next-door neighbor, came up beside her and put her arm around her. “Cora, who’s that?” she asked in her lilting Jamaican accent. “Is she a friend of Rudy’s?”
“She is Rudy’s friend, but she’s also a foster child who shouldn’t be staying with us. Lord, I am going to lose my job.”
“Mama, is Harper goin’ to be okay?” Rudy asked, coming out into the rain.
“Go back inside, Rudy,” Cora said sternly. “Harper’s going to be fine. They’re taking her to the hospital, and they’re going to find out why she doesn’t feel good.”
“You want me to stay with the kids?” Janelle asked.
“Would you, Janelle? Just till the morning? Then Frank can take over.”
Janelle nodded. “You go. We’ll be fine.”
“I have to change,” Cora said, looking down at her nightgown and robe. “C’mon inside.”
Cora’s mind raced as she tried to think of everything she needed. She quickly changed and then they all watched, wide-eyed, as she hurried about, grabbing her bag and keys and phone.
“Here, take this, too, Mama,” Rudy said, thrusting Harper’s teddy bear into her arms.
“Be careful, Mama,” Frank said in a worried voice.
“I will—don’t you worry. Be good and go back to bed.”
They nodded.
“Thanks, Janelle,” Cora said, turning to her friend and giving her a hug. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothin’, girl,” Janelle said. “Now, go.”
“I’m goin’. I’ll call you in the morning.” She looked at the clock. “The real morning.”
They watched her pull away, and Janelle closed the door. “I know you three are wide awake,” she said with a gentle smile, “but I bet if you lie down, you’ll fall back asleep.”
Reluctantly, Frank and Joe shuffled to their room and closed the door, while Rudy lingered, looking out the window. Finally, she wandered down the hall, too. Every light in her room was on, illuminating the hurriedly thrown-off sheets and blankets. She gazed at the cot where her friend had been just minutes before, and sat down—it was still warm. She folded her hands to pray, but then dissolved into tears and buried her face in her hands.
Janelle heard her crying, peered into the room, and sat down next to her, making the cot groan. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered, putting her arm around her. “Everything’s goin’ to be okay.”
“Why does everything have to be so hard for Harper?” she sobbed. “Nothin’ ever goes right.”
“I don’t know, baby,” Janelle said softly. “All we can do is pray.”
“I been prayin’, but it doesn’t help.”
“Would it be okay if I prayed, too?”
Rudy nodded, and Janelle held her hand and whispered a prayer for healing and for things to go better for her friend Harper.
“Thanks, Janelle,” Rudy said, wrapping her arms around her wide middle.
Rudy curled up on the cot, and Janelle pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.
“Things will be better in the morning, Rudy. You’ll see.” She gently wiped away Rudy’s tears and kissed her forehead. A moment later, Rudy was sound asleep.