Kenny sat looking at the Whopper. He nervously picked up the Coke and took a long swig through the straw.
Maybe if I eat the fries and drink most of the Coke first, the reaction will be less.
He squeezed the ketchup over the fries and ate them one at a time, warily eyeing the Whopper. Five minutes later he had finished all the fries and half his Coke, and Kenny sat looking at the Whopper. The door opened and the tattooed man with tree trunks for arms poked his head into the room,
‘You done yet kid?’
‘Not yet. I’m about to eat my burger.’
‘Hurry up kid.’
‘Come back in ten minutes and I should be done.’
‘Jesus! Jerry! Jerry!’ The tattooed man rumbled into the room and knelt beside Kenny. He swore as he glared at Kenny.
‘What is it?’ A slender black guy strolled into the doorway. ‘What’s all the racket about? The boss warned us to make sure to keep the noise down.’
‘It’s the kid. He seems to be sick.’
‘What the hell?’ The black guy trotted into the room and stooped beside the tattooed guy. ‘Do you know what’s wrong with him?’
‘How the hell would I know? Am I a doctor?’
‘Hey, I was only asking. Is he breathing? He looks kinda blue?’
The tattooed man put his index finger under Kenny’s nose. ‘Yeah, he seems to be, but …’ He put his ear to Kenny’s chest and then close to his nose. ‘He seems to be having trouble breathing. His heart is racing like he was in a race or something.’
‘He looks a lot fatter than he did earlier, like he’s swollen up, like a mud-fish,’ Jerry commented.
‘Jesus! You don’t think he was stung by a scorpion? I hear people swell up when stung by scorpions?’ the tattooed guy asked.
Jerry jumped up on the table. ‘Scorpion? You see a scorpion?’
‘No. Do you?’ said the tattooed guy also jumping up and climbing less nimbly onto a chair.
‘No, fool!’ Jerry exclaimed, slapping the tattooed guy on the shoulder. Jerry climbed off the table and stooped beside Kenny. ‘I thought you … oh never mind. What do you think is wrong with him?’
The tattooed guy gingerly got off the chair, looking suspiciously around, and knelt beside Kenny. ‘I don’t know, but it sounds like he is having trouble breathing. I think we should call the boss and ask him what we should do.’
Sighing, Jerry reached for his phone. He paced from side to side as he gesticulated while speaking into the phone. He hung up and looked down at Kenny, ‘The boss says we should leave him.’
‘What? He could be dying?’
‘Boss says we should pack up our stuff, wipe the place clean and get out.’
‘But, but, he’s only a kid.’
‘You want to call the boss and tell him that?’
The tattooed guy looked down at Kenny. ‘No. I guess not.’ Slowly, he rose to his feet. ‘I guess we better do what the boss says.’ The tattooed guy headed for the door.
‘Where you going?’ Jerry asked, as he started wiping down the surfaces of the room with a handkerchief.
‘Got to take a leak. I’ll be back in a second.’ As the tattooed guy left the room and hurried down the corridor, he was reaching for his phone. ‘Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance at the Flagler Dog Track. A boy has collapsed and seems to be having trouble breathing.’
‘He’s in here,’ the police officer called from the room. The paramedics wheeled in the cart and knelt beside Kenny.
‘Do you know what happened here?’ the first paramedic who entered the room asked. He was a tall black guy in his thirties.
‘No. There was a 10-38 call, about a boy who was having trouble breathing and collapsed. It was deemed suspicious because it was anonymous. I was asked to come and case the premises to make sure that you guys were OK, and had backup.’
‘D, his esophagus appears to be swollen,’ the second paramedic said as she examined Kenny. She was Hispanic, broad-hipped and in her early forties. ‘His vitals are very weak. His system seems to be shutting down.’
‘Looks like some kind of allergic reaction,’ D said as he opened Kenny’s shirt and noticed the red blotches on his torso, the swelling of his lips and around his mouth.
‘If we don’t do something he could be dead in a few minutes.’
‘Yeah, but the problem is that we don’t know what antigen to use because we don’t know what he is allergic to.’
‘You see any bees around? Scorpions? Ants? Anything that can sting him?’ the female paramedic asked as she looked around. The police officer shone his flashlight around Kenny, searching the floor, under and around the table and the chair. They all crawled around on their knees searching. ‘Anyone see anything?’
‘Nothing,’ D offered.
‘Naw. Only these food wrappers,’ the police officer called.
‘What food wrappers?’ D asked, quickly turning towards the officer.
The police officer reached into the trash bin and took out a brown Burger King bag and a red and white Coke cup. D and the female paramedic exchanged a glance.
‘Sesame seeds!’ they said in unison.
‘But surely with such a violent reaction he would know that he had this allergy and not eat sesame seeds?’ the female paramedic offered.
‘J, it’s our only clue. Do you have any other ideas?’
J played with her brunette ponytail for a few short moments and shook her head. ‘Let’s go for it. Call it in.’
D reached for his radio handset, ‘Mercy General, we have a boy possibly in his early teens; appears to be suffering from anaphylactic shock. BP thready, breath shallow, oesophagus closing, and allergic dermatitis. Please advice stat.’
‘What’s the cause?’ a crackly voice asked.
‘Possibly sesame anaphylaxis.’
‘Possibly?’
‘We don’t have a lot to go on here. That’s our best guess.’
‘Heartbeat accelerated and lips swollen?’ crackled the voice.
J put her stethoscope to Kenny’s bare chest and nodded.
‘Affirmative.’
‘Hook up the patient to a heart monitor. 0.3mg of epinephrine and monitor.’
‘Roger.’ They worked rapidly to put Kenny on the stretcher, placed white discs on his chest and arm, with cables running to a heart-monitoring machine. J quickly took his blood pressure while D prepared the epinephrine injection. D checked with the female paramedic, ‘You ready J?’
J nodded without looking up from the heart monitor. D injected Kenny. J watched the monitor intently and after a minute took his blood pressure again.
‘No improvement in his BP.’
Suddenly, Kenny started convulsing violently.
‘Violent convulsion!’ shouted D into the radio.
‘One milligram of epinephrine!’ crackled the voice.
D quickly prepared the new dosage, while J held Kenny. D applied the injection. Kenny coiled into a foetal position as the convulsions subsided.
‘BP is settling. Heart rate is falling.’ J placed the stethoscope on Kenny’s back and listened. ‘Breathing is improving.’ J allowed herself a smile.
‘Mercy General, we are heading in with the patient. He has stabilized.’
‘Roger. Good job.’