I pay the delivery man and the smell of hot meatball subs fills Tall's hallway.

"I'll set up the kitchen table for us," I shout. "Make your way here and, please, use your walker, or I will tell Ben." I clear today's paper from one of the chairs, grab a couple of plates and two glasses for us. I untie the plastic bag, unwrap the subs and put them on the plate. "They'll get cold if you don't hurry." I look at the doorway into the kitchen, waiting to see Tall any second now, but a minute later he's still not here. Probably started reading something and can't stop until he gets to the end of the chapter. I head back into the living-room and see his head above the chair.

"Tall, come on, the food's here."

He doesn't turn back and remains still. Dread trickles down from my mind into my chest. Something is wrong. I run to him and see his eyes glazed over but not with sleep, his hand on his chest.

"Tall?" I shake his shoulder and his head rolls to the side. This is not happening. I can't have this. What am I supposed to do here? I take out my phone and dial 911, but the stupid apartment doesn't have reception. I put my finger to Tall's neck, looking for a pulse. It's threadbare, but it's there and he is still breathing. I leave him where he is and run to the hallway and the black beast on the wall. My fingers tremble as I rotate 'nine', it clicks as it passes all the numbers backwards and it takes seconds for the dial to get back into place. The two 'ones' go faster. I wait for the beeps. I'm not sure it will even work, but it does. The operator answers and I tell her the address and that Tall's unconscious. The ambulance is on its way. I take five steps into the living room while the operator keeps asking me questions. The tangled cord is not long enough for me to reach Tall and I choose to hang up, open the door into the apartment and rush back to Tall.

Cold sweat runs down my back. I check the pulse and the breathing and I'm not sure either is there. CPR, I need to start CPR. I put my arm around Tall and under his armpits and try to move him off the chair. His height and weight made it difficult for me to assist him with getting in and out of the chair the first days at the hospital, now his body feels like it weights a ton and we both half-fall half-roll on the floor. I put him on his back and start chest compressions. I've never performed CPR, but I have done a class on first aid in my high school swim team days and seen enough public service announcements and movies to know to keep pushing hard and fast. One-two-three-four-five, one-two-three-four-five. Tall coughs and opens his eyes. Disoriented, he looks at me, his eyes stay unfocused and close before I see any recognition in them.

The paramedics arrive with a stretcher, check for a pulse and, while I tell them about my attempt at CPR, lift him onto the stretcher and take him out of the apartment. I follow them, shut the door behind us and keep asking if he's going to be all right. When we are out of the building and they load him into the ambulance. I try to hop in.

"Are you his relative?" One paramedic, a girl shorter than me with spiky purple hair, holds her hands out, not letting me in.

"I need to come with." That's not the reply she's looking for.

"D'you live in the apartment?" I nod. I did live in the apartment at some point. She waves me inside and I watch in terror as they hook Tall to lines and tubes and I don't know what's going on.

They shut the doors, the siren is blaring, and we are on our way to the hospital. I've been here before. The déjà vu is too much to bear. A man who's like a father to me is unconscious on the stretcher in the middle of the ambulance and I'm useless, sitting and watching the waves of his heartbeat on his monitor, unable to help or change anything of what's happening around me.

Tall's eyes open again, they find me and it looks like he's recognizing me. I reach for his hand and squeeze it; he squeezes back and I tell myself he'll be OK. Tall's healthy, he probably has a cold and low oxygen level, they'll give him antibiotics and send him back home, good as new.

"Amelie," Tall rasps. "I'm ready."

Ready for the hospital? Was there a bag I had to take, like the one Angie put together before Kora's birth? I can go back and grab it. "I—"

"And you will be fine." Tall coughs again, and this time he tries to sit up. The paramedic helps him and I see blood on Tall's lips. This is not not just a cold. What the hell is happening to him?

"Promise you'll take care of Ben—he loves you, even if he hasn't said it yet. Keep loving him too. He's worth it."

I know that about Ben, but Ben and I will figure it out. All I care about is Tall. "Shh," I try to have him lie back down. "You shouldn't be talking, it all can wait."

Tall's head is back on the stretcher.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask the paramedic.

"I'm afraid it's a blood clot," he says. "The hospital will give him the meds that should thin his blood and help with it."

"Amelie," Tall's voice is low and gurgly. "Don't you or Ben feel guilty. I knew what I was doing, remember that. I'm ready." He closes his eyes and I watch the line on the monitor go flat. I've seen that happen before. Dad's line did the same. It went flat and the waves never came back. I need to see the waves come back for Tall.

"Tall, come back to me," I shout and lean to grab and shake him, but the paramedic pushes me away and pulls up Tall's polo shirt, and attaches the defibrillator pads. The device shocks Tall's chest, but the lines are still flat. Again and again it happens with the same result and I pray the next shock wave will do it, it surely must.

It doesn't.

The ambulance stops, the doors fly open and they wheel Tall through the automatic doors of the hospital. I run after him and want to follow through the doors past the waiting room, but arms stop me, voices tell me I can't go any further and I whispter, "I have to stay with him. It's not happening. It can't be happening. I must, I must follow."

More hands and arms are on me and I'm in a chair now, a nurse leaning over me with a clipboard and papers, extending a pen my way. I know I should be listening and helping her with whatever she needs from me, but I'm not able to. The waves that didn't re-appear on Tall's monitor in the ambulance are crashing ashore in my head, and it's all I can hear. The whoosh or them breaking against my skull. The wet escapes the confines of my head and travels onto my face and I'm crying, but I don't hear myself. Another wave breaks and more liquid is coming out. I drown in the salty water and it feels like the only way ashore is through these waves, through the heartbreak and through the hot hurt in the middle of my head—the outside world arrives with a buzzing of my phone in my pocket.

The vibrations rewind me back from the hospital and into the ambulance and to me performing the CPR and to me making the call to 9-1-1 and to the conversation about Ben. Ben. I need to tell Ben. I slap my leg, looking for the way into my pocket and find the phone, take it out and struggle to unlock it. There is a message on it, it's from Angie asking if I can come over this week-end. What day is it today? What time is it—I look at the top of the screen and it's not even eight. Why does it feel like midnight, like hours, not thirty minutes passed since the time I found Tall and now? Ben. My thoughts circle back and I dial his number. It rings twice and goes to voicemail. I hang up, try him again and leave a voicemail this time. "Tall's in the hospital. Call me when you get it."

I text him the same. Then text it to Angie and to Mike and Marguerite and even Linda. I don't know who else to text who knew Tall. I don't know who I need here now, who cares, who can do something. I know nothing. Someone needs to tell me what to do.

Angie and Mike show up first. They fill out the paperwork. They talk at me and I nod and take the cup of coffee they bring me and stare at the house decorating show playing on silent on TV in the corner of the waiting room. The coffee gets cold.

Someone in light green scrubs comes over and Angie, Mike, and I move to a different room. We wait some more. There's no more talking. Angie and Mike are on their phones and I stare into space, listening to the waves in my head whooshing and the invisible hands strangling me, rationing the air into tiny gulps. Another scrub-clad figure, this one in darker green.

"According to the paperwork you filled out, none of you are related to him or have a power of attorney." She is not asking. She's waiting for one of us to contradict, to tell her she's wrong and we are his next of kin. I want to lie and say I'm his daughter, granddaughter, niece, but the tightness around my neck allows no talking. I look at the big brown eyes of the lady who wants me to lie to her and I wince, as another wave of hurt crushes and shatters my thoughts. I shake my head and look away.

"Ok, then. We'll have to wait for next of kin. You can stay here."

"He'll be here. We contacted him," says Angie. But it's a lie. Tall has no next of kin. Benny died. His sister died, and she never had children.

"I'll have the nurse come talk to you when he arrives." She turns for the door.

I lean forward and try to stand up, but Angie's arm comes in front of me and keeps me in my seat. I want to stand in front of this cold woman who doesn't understand I need to see him and that we aren't of the same blood, but he is my kin. I'm going to explain to her.

"Talking to a nurse would be lovely," says Angie, and the woman in the scrubs hurries out.

"She's an intern. She probably is scared more than you are. We'll see Tall soon." Angie is calm and I don't know why she's not crying and shaking like I am. She is Tall's friend too. These people have no emotions, they are robots who haven't experienced death up close. I'm the only one who understands and feels it. The chasm that opened up in my head hurts and the liquid of the waves leaks through, no longer in drips but in a stream of salty water. I'm not crying. The swill leaves me with no effort on my part to push it out. I'm a mess of hurt and wet and love and fear. Angie hugs me . Her arm, so real around me, is the first solid thing my body registers. Her warmth and strength are more powerful than the bony fingers of dread that were closing around my throat that let go, releasing me into Angie's embrace.

3.30.21

As promised, this was a hard chapter.

Also, as promised, it's an extra chapter becuase I've finished a new one between yesterday and today. I really, really need to finish the story this month. Fingers crossed. These hard chapters took me forever to write and I am happy I'm through with them.

I will be talking to a paramedic, to see what actually happens, and will fix things up if I am misrepresenting things, but if you know the medical stuff, please let me know and I'll make the changes. My knowlege is based on TV and Internet research.