Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“Oh thank god you’re here!” she cries. “He’s right over there.”
“Who called it in?” Rob asks.
“I did,” she replies. “It was crazy the way it happened.”
“Did you see how he fell?”
The woman shakes her head, her lower lip trembling. “I only heard the sound of him hitting the floor.” She shivers. “It was awful.”
Rob doesn’t do well with comforting civilians, so I give her a smile. “You did the right thing, ma’am.”
Some of the color comes back to her cheeks, and she gives me a shy smile. Then, Maggie directs us to a small crowd that’s gathered around the fallen man. We push our way between the bodies, and people make way so we can crouch next to the patient. He’s male, maybe in his sixties or so with straggly pure white hair and a long beard to match.
“Sir,” Rob says, touching the patient on the shoulder. “Can you hear me?”
The old man lets out a grunt.
“Sir?” Rob asks again patiently.
“Y-yes,” he mumbles, stirring faintly. On the ground next to him are a pair of glasses. They’re twisted at the bridge and sit at an odd angle on the shiny maple wood floor.
“Great. What’s your name, sir?”
The elderly man opens his eyes a crack.
“Chuck. Chuck Staples.” He blinks up at the ceiling, dazed but coherent at least. Rob nods.
“Good to meet you, Chuck. I’m Rob, and this is my partner Sam. We’re EMTs. How old are you?”
“Sixty-two, and doggone it, if this isn’t going to be the last year of my life on this beautiful Earth.”
Slowly, Rob and I help him to his feet and guide him into a chair. The way Chuck tells it—and we later confirm this with those who saw what happened—he tripped over his own two feet when it was his turn to bowl and conked himself on the head with the ball. It doesn’t sound like it should be physically possible, but Chuck managed it somehow. The good news is that if he’s this coherent, then he probably didn’t hit himself too hard.
We take the elderly man’s blood pressure and flash a light in his eyes. His hands are trembling, but he doesn’t seem to be seriously injured. There aren’t any signs of a concussion, but you can never be too careful with these things. As a result, I ask if he wants to go to Prescott General Hospital, but Chuck shakes his head ruefully.
“No, no. Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m embarrassed enough as it is that you boys had to come out here just to check on me.”
“It’s no trouble, sir,” I say, “But if you experience any dizziness or nausea later, take yourself to emergency room. You can never be too safe, and you did get a pretty hard knock there on the head.”
He nods. He and his family members thank us, and then Maggie comes by to give Chuck a tall glass of water and an ice pack for his noggin. Our job complete, we head for the exit, but before we get there, there’s a quick tap on my shoulder. When I turn, our middle-aged waitress stands there with a sassy smile.
Now that the crisis is over, she’s pulled herself together. Maggie isn’t bad looking. She’s wearing the bowling alley uniform of a peppermint striped uniform with a red cap, black slacks, and black sneakers, but she wears it well, even if she’s a bit dumpy. A strawberry blonde ponytail sticks out of the back of her cap, and her lips are glossed with pink.
Her brown eyes shift from me, to Rob, and then back to me before blushing. Then, she sticks something in my general direction, which turns out to be two cards with Chester’s Bowling Alley printed in cursive on the back.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” she rushes. “I wanted to give you both coupons for the bowling alley.”
I glance at Rob. It’s not the first time someone has tried to give us a gift while we’re on the job, but it’s the first time we’ve received coupons. I don’t think there’s a rule against accepting coupons, but I want to be sure. Rob shrugs back, and I turn back to Maggie.
I smile kindly. “Thanks, Maggie. We’ll take them. Bowling is a great sport.”
The middle-aged woman’s eyes sparkle and she nods before waving goodbye.
“Y’all have a good night now!” she chirps. “Hope to see you soon! But not for the same reason!”
I chuckle while slipping the coupons into my pocket and follow Rob outside. It’s even colder and darker now, but my partner doesn’t seem to notice the chill.
“So,” he says when we get to the ambulance.
“So, what?” I ask. I can’t wait until we get inside and turn on the heater.
“Did she give you her number?”
I pshaw. “No, she wouldn’t. She’s cute and all, but that woman was at least forty.”