The Between Years

fumbled it then snapped at it to regain a firm grip. Given the circumstances, I needed to pause, take a deep breath, and calm myself enough to punch in the numbers.

    Luckily, the phone rang only twice before a nasally voiced operator answered.

    “ 9-1-1 Emergency, my name is Rhonda. Can you tell me the nature of your emergency?”

    “ My baby, I think he's . . . I dunno, but I don't think he's breathing. He wasn't moving when I checked on him.”

    “ Has anyone tried to administer First Aid?”

    “ I think so. My husband's doing something to help him. I think it's First Aid.”

    “ I want you to listen to me carefully, Ma'am.” Nothing could have changed Rhonda's steady tone. “If your husband has started First Aid, I want you to tell him to keep doing it and not stop until an ambulance arrives. And be prepared to take over if he gets tired.”

    “ You're going to send an ambulance right away, right?”

    “ Yes Ma'am, we're sending an ambulance right away.”

    “ You need an address, right?” I stopped to catch my breath. “God, I can't even remember if I gave you my address.”

    “ It's okay Ma'am, take your time, and tell me where you live.”

    Take my time? How in the blue fucking hell could I afford to? I sucked in another deep breath. “I live at 479 Parkridge Avenue. Good luck getting here.”

    “ Okay, I'll dispatch an ambulance right away. The weather's been nasty, but your son is going to be our top priority. In the meantime, I want you to remain calm no matter how hard it'll be. And be ready to take over for your husband if he becomes too tired to continue First Aid.”

    “ I will, I will.”

    When Rhonda clicked off the line, I felt like a handful of dirt had been tossed onto my coffin. She'd said all the right words and had kept me calm, but how the hell was I supposed to believe her? I couldn't perform First Aid without any training either. And worst of all, there was no way paramedics could reach us in weather like this.

    “ Did you call them?” Randy's voice boomed from the living room. “Is an ambulance coming?”

    “ They're sending one!” I shouted back. “Are you going to start First Aid?”

    “ Already started. Who knows how long an ambulance will take to get here.”

    “ The lady says we've got to keep doing it until the ambulance arrives. Just tell me if you're getting tired and . . . I'll take over and do the best I can. You can coach me through it.”

    In the living room, Randy had stripped off the layers of blankets, the winter jacket, and extra shirt we'd used to bundle him up, and left his bare chest exposed. Wouldn't he freeze? I thought. Randy pressed his ear to Kenny's chest, tilted his head back, and blew air into his lungs. Then he used his index finger to pump his chest cavity. He counted to eight while he pumped then repeated. That he had remained composed throughout amazed me.

    My head swam. Everything that had happened seemed to last an eternity, but I knew the 9-1-1 call itself and my scramble to the living room had all taken less than five minutes. Maybe that sounds clichéd, but it's the best I can tell you.

    My legs folded beneath me, so I sat cross-legged on the floor, hugging my knees, my bottom lip pushed out, and ready to cry. I didn't want to act like a marshmallow, and I wouldn't give up. Kenny needed my strength, but I felt paralyzed. Maybe you would too had you been in my shoes. I couldn't gaze into the bassinet while Randy worked on Kenny because I knew the sight would suck up the last of my strength. Whenever I glanced out the window, I wondered how the paramedics would reach our house. Would they even come close? Or would they get stuck half-way like others had? What the hell would we do then?

    I dragged myself to my feet because I couldn't stand to sit on the floor and feel sorry for myself a minute longer. If I wanted to save Kenny's life, I knew I would have to be proactive, and take over for Randy if he grew tired. I too had taken a First Aid seminar at the college, but I barely remembered a thing. Why would I have expected to actually use it? I worried I would make matters worse by getting in the way, so I did what I could to help. First, I gathered up the clothes, shoes and toys that cluttered the house, and shoved an armchair out of the way to create a clear path for the paramedics once they arrived.

    I spent the between time chewing on my fingernails so intensely that I could have torn one of them off. Kenny was