Page 14 of Under Water

“How old are you?”

“Twelve,” he rasps.

God, he’s so small I thought he was maybe seven or eight. But I realize now the look in his eyes gives his age away. “Almost a teenager. I don’t think your dad is going to appreciate the heart attack you’re going to give him.”

He laughs behind his mask and tightens his hand in mine as we walk toward the ambulance. Zion and Hayes get him in, and then I climb up beside him as Zion goes for the door and Hayes starts to hook him up to the monitor.

“I should call your dad,” I tell him as the sirens start again. They’re much more muffled inside than they are in the truck, which I can appreciate. But even so, Elio’s eyes are wide and terrified.

“Do you have to?”

I almost laugh. “I mean, yeah. Unless you want me to call your…mom?” I hate to assume, but I also know next to nothing about Rune apart from the fact that he hates my guts, he works in IT, and that apparently he has a twelve-year-old son.

Elio shakes his head. “No. She doesn’t live here. I stay with my grandma mostly.” He’s starting to sound a lot better, even if he’s pausing to cough every so often. But coughing is good for now. “You probably have to call my dad.”

I shut my eyes for a beat, then say, “How about I wait until we get to the hospital so he doesn’t hear the sirens and freak out.”

A few more tears slip out of Elio’s eyes, and he reaches for my hand again. “I don’t like to scare him. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to fall in. I just wanted to feed the ducks. I really like them. I told him I hated ducks because I was mad at him when he took me to the park, and then I thought I hurt the ducks’ feelings, so I brought them grapes, and my wheel caught a rock, and I fell and knocked the wind out of me. It wasn’t that deep, but I was on my stomach, so I couldn’t lift my head up.” His voice begins to wobble, and suddenly, he’s sobbing.

“Hey.” I glance up at Hayes, who looks devastated, and I mouth, ‘This is Rune’s kid.’

Hayes’s eyes go wide with shock. ‘His kid?’

I nod as I stroke my hand over Elio’s wet hair, and after a moment, he starts to calm down. The peace is shattered by a violent coughing fit, and Hayes just manages to pull his mask off before Elio projectile vomits another wave of pond water.

“Sorry,” he says, voice weak and thready.

I ease him onto his side a bit as Hayes replaces his oxygen. “You throw up as many times as you need to, okay?”

He nods as Hayes snatches the blanket off him and replaces it with a new one. Everything kind of smells like swamp and stomach bile, but it’s hard to give a shit when the kid is alive, and I don’t have to tell Rune the worst news a person could ever hear.

My hands threaten to shake, but I squeeze them tight before taking Elio’s hand again. I don’t have time for my shit. I can break down later. Right now, I need to be strong because even though he’s fine, I don’t know that Rune will be.

“Approaching,” Zion calls from the driver’s seat.

Hayes starts to prepare the stretcher for transport, and I hold Elio’s hand until the doors to the ambulance open.

“Will you come in with me?” he begs.

“I will be right in,” I promise. “I’m just going to make that call.”

Elio’s eyes find mine. “Swear?”

I press my hand to my heart. “Swear.”

He doesn’t answer. I call four times in a row, but Rune doesn’t pick up, and that’s weird because he’s almost always on call. As far as I know, the man has never once turned his ringer off, so I have no idea why today is different.

It’s been nearly five minutes though, so I decided to head in. The last thing I’m going to do is break my promise to that kid. He was terrified and shaken, and I don’t want him to deal with that alone. I have no idea what he actually experienced while he was fighting to get his head above water.

I can’t imagine how it must have been for him.

Taking a breath, I make my way down the hall toward the doors for ambulance drop-off, and they swing open as I approach. I’m not as familiar with the hospital as some of the guys are. I don’t usually follow patients back.

Most of the guys work EMT shifts, but after the first incident with the kid, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it. Now I feel like a weak jackass for not making myself face that fear because what good have I actually been to people all this time?

I shake the thought off. It’s something I can discuss in therapy later because I am definitely going to need an emergency session after this. And probably a hefty dose of Xanax when I’m off my shift.

I turn the corner toward peds, and just as I pass through the second set of doors, a massive body is standing in my way.